It feels unfamiliar. I know the place, if someone asked where something is located I'd probably know the answer to nine out of ten of those things. I lived with Niall and Niall's friends equaled my friends, which equaled knowing Seth's apartment like the back of my hand.

         So why does it feel so weird? I'm looking around the walls, knowing I look interested in them, even though it's been long since the last time they were interesting to me; I'm also standing cemented in my spot in the hallway, as if I don't know my way around.

         "Come on in, then."

         Oh, yeah – I've been forcing the idea to stay in the back of my head, but the feeling of being out of place might be caused by my ex girlfriend, that's standing merely a few feet in front of me, fidgeting her hands as she looks at me. And, well, everyone knows our story, no need to emphasize it anymore.

         It would've been more bearable if there was someone else with us – I don't even know what happens to me when I'm alone with her.

         "Alright," I mumble, nodding, "Do I need to take my shoes off?"

         "No."

         "Okay."

         I clear my throat, pulling at the collar of my shirt as I watch her walk to the kitchen; all she's done so far is walk, and I'm already sweating, all the little voices in my head gathered to throw the party of the year. I'm aware that it's a little comical- my own neurosis is entertaining me.

         "Want a drink?"

         "Uh, yeah," I reply stupidly, starting to make my way down the hallway to the kitchen myself.

         "Beer?"

         "Nice joke." Kirsten looks up at me from the fridge, frowning a bit – she has no idea. "I don't drink. Only on special occasions. I didn't drink at all until a year ago."

         I hope my anxiousness doesn't make me go on a rambling spree. I've already had one in her presence, and that's enough as it is.

         "Is that a lawyer thing?"

         "No, it's a recovering alcoholic thing," I tell her, nodding casually while her eyes are seconds from falling out of her head. Yes, humor. Humor is good. "I got my 'four years sober' badge a couple months ago."

         She leans against the fridge at my confession, not even closing it first – I don't wanna sound vain or something, but she's not completely clueless as to why I went through that unnecessary period in my life. She knows it's got something to do with her- hell of a lot to do with her, and she's shocked. I'm actually enjoying the look on her face.

         "Um, well..." She trails off, when she feels her voice start cracking- that's even better than the look on her face. "Congratulations?"

         "Thanks," I give her a smile, and boy, she can't even look me in the eyes. This is what I need to do, I need to remember I jeopardized my own life because of something she did, and it'll get these supposed reawakened feelings away. "You know what? I'll actually have that beer, it's bourbon that got me off the wagon anyway."

         "Like hell you'll have that beer," Kirsten whispers, getting something out of the fridge and throwing it at me- a juicebox. Cranberry apple. "I don't want to live with being the reason you went to rehab again."

         "Yeah, being the reason it happened the first time is enough, innit?"

         I tilt my head to the side as she turns her sharply in my direction, her eyes widened at me in disbelief- and I know what's going through both of our heads – when did I get so cruel?

         Not even a few seconds later does she turn away from me, running a hand through her hair as she slowly walks to sit at the counter. My comeback has clearly paralyzed her a little, as she's sitting there staring at her hands and more than obviously trying to steady her suddenly heavy breathing- okay, that's enough cruelty for one day.

         I walk over, opening my juicebox, and lean on the counter opposite of her, watching her. Waiting for her to look up without me having to call her. It takes her a full minute to actually do it, and when she does, at first she gives me an insecure, apologetic, remorseful look, that could probably be described with another thousand words.

         But then, she unintentionally snorts, surprising both of us; and just now I'm realizing how I'm standing. I'm leaned on the counter with my forearm on the surface, sucking on the straw of my cranberry apple juice, and I don't know how, but I've managed to raise one eyebrow at her. I haven't been able to do that in my twenty eight years of life, but it apparently just happens.

         "What are you doing?"

         "Seducing you," I mumble the first thing that comes to mind, the straw still in my mouth, "Is it working?"

         She laughs for a few short seconds, putting her chin in her hand afterwards. The smile slowly fades from her face as we're looking at each other, and she eventually looks away from me. Alright, I'm starting to think that was too much cruelty for one day.

         "Harry, I'm..." She shakes her head, staring at something unspecific intently, "I'm sorry."

         Ah, the word I'd wanted to hear for literal years. It seems so small now.

         "I appreciate that."

         She glances at me after ungluing her eyes from whatever she was looking at, but looks down at her lap sooner than I'd expected, and rubs the back of her neck with her hand. "He likes you."

         It takes me zero seconds to figure out who she's talking about. "He does?"

         "Yeah. He liked that strawberry juice you gave him. And he liked how comfortable your couch was for napping. And he's excited that you're gonna play catch with him when he turns five. Plus you bought him an entire raspberry pie."

         She's smiling fondly while talking about her son- and I'm over here with the biggest and stupidest grin I've probably ever had on my face in my life. I'm genuinely going to be smiling at this for the next few days.

         "Did you take the test yet?"

        And just like that, my smile falters; she's still staring at her lap, not even smiling anymore. Talking about that paternity test really gets her in a bad mood, and I have several ideas for why that might be.

         "Yeah, Niall's gonna do it for me," I tell her, and she unexpectedly gives me a look; I really need to start picking my words better. "I mean, I gave him the toothbrush because of Delaney, and then I figured I'd give him mine too, so he can take it to a lab for me."

         "Because he knows where you can get a paternity test?"

         "...What are you implying?"

         "Nothing." Kirsten licks her lips, looking down again. "I'm just asking."

         I shrug at her words, deciding to ignore her basically suggesting that Niall needed a paternity test at one point. It's funny how I always sound protective over him in my head, when in reality there was a time where he had to take care of me the way he needs to care for his newborn son now. I was such a mess. God.

         "No," I finally answer her question, "Freya's a medical resident, so... she knows people for that kind of thing better than any of us."

         "They have three kids?"

         "Mhm."

         "Jesus," She mutters, shaking her head, "I had one and had to put my whole life on hold."

         "Well, you know Freya," I shrug, talking quietly as I inspect the surface of the counter. "The ultimate multitasker."

         I notice Kirsten nod from the corner of my eye, but frown when I look at her and see her looking down at her lap again; okay, I don't want her to be like this when I'm around. I don't wanna be friends or hang out with her either, but for the sake of the boy that's sleeping soundly a few rooms away, I'm gonna control my emotions and words. Whenever I think of a witty comeback, I'm gonna keep my mouth shut and then tell it to Niall. He'll laugh at it for sure.

         "Does he have a lot of friends?" I speak up after a minute, deciding to end the silence by saying something pleasant – and talking about Conrad always brings a smile on her face. Same goes for me.

         "Not really," She shrugs, but smiling as I'd predicted anyway, "Elijah is pretty much the only constant friend he's had. He's too young for school, plus now I have to take him with me wherever I go-"

         "You don't."

         "Harry-"

         "You don't," I shake my head, dead serious but I know it'll be a while before she takes me seriously. "I'm not kidding, Kirsten, if he turns out to be mine, there is nothing I won't do to be with him."

         I sounded too poetic there, even for my own liking.

         She's leaned her head to the side, giving me a small, humorous smile but with her brows raised; I'll have to get used to her looking at me with that disbelieving expression when we talk about this. "Are you completely sure about that, Harry?"

         "Would I be saying it if I weren't?"

         "What about Delaney?"

         There it is – the exact same question I've been dodging in my head for the past week. "...What about her?"

         "What if she has a problem with it?"

         Come on, Harry, you're a lawyer, you're supposed to be good at talking.

         "Do you really think I'd pick anyone or anything over my own child?" Yes, that's good. Even she is giving in to what I just said. "I mean, she might... feel weird or something, since he's a little bigger than she would've expected, but... she won't dismiss him, or break up with me because of him or anything like that, really."

         Kirsten smiles, wider, that same fond smile adorning her face- my God, she's beautiful. She doesn't look a day over 19, and she's as close to 30 as I am. I wonder if I ever knew how lucky I was to be seen with her, back when we were together – I always thought she was the prettiest girl in my class and even my school, but I wonder if my schoolboy mind has ever absorbed the fact that she was probably the prettiest girl on this, and several other planets.

         Assuming there's life on other planets.

         "You've got a good girl there," Kirsten nods, pulling me out of my thoughts, "Keep her around if she accepts Conrad."

         "Of course I will," I lick my lips, feeling a little bad that, here I am, staring at my ex girlfriend, thinking how stunning I once thought she was. Hell, I still think she's stunning, luckily I have my dignity to keep me away from doing something stupid.

         "Can I see him?"

         "What?"

         "I wanna see him," I shrug, speaking in a small voice, "If he does end up leaving with you tonight, I wanna spend as much time with him as possible. Even if he's asleep."

         A look of sadness flashes through her eyes, before she quickly nods. "Uh, yeah, down the hall, second room on the right. Elijah's room."

         I nod and, without saying anything else, walk away from the counter, not even waiting for Kirsten. But I can hear her soft footsteps as she catches up to me, and keeps walking behind me until we get to the room with the navy blue walls and yellow stars sprinkled over them, and in the middle of the room – there he is, lying on the bed. His arms on the pillow as he drools on it. I've never seen anything more beautiful.

         With a smile that I can barely contain, I carefully pad to the bed, and at first I watch his peaceful face and full cheeks as I sit on the edge of the mattress. A minute into it I decide to get my legs up, in a half-lying position, where I can caress his entertainingly curly hair- but as soon as I touch his head with my palm, his left hand twitches toward it, until he's managed to wrap his small hand around my index finger without looking or anything. I'm noticing this is just something he does.

         Then, he somehow pulls himself from his pillow, trying to crawl closer to me, still asleep; he's clumsy and bumps his head on my ribs, but eventually he's lying on my stomach, his grip around my finger now more firm.

         And of course, I'm too scared to even take a breath, fearing it would get him to return to his pillow. And I don't want him to ever go back to his pillow, no, I don't want this moment to ever end.

         I start breathing again at about the same time I touch his hair, and he doesn't move at all, indicating he's fast asleep again; what he did a minute ago, those must have been reflexes. Boy, am I happy about those reflexes.

          "He's lovely, isn't he?"

         I look over at Kirsten, who's now sitting on the edge of the bed, closer to me than I would've liked her to be; I nod to her whisper nevertheless, grinning like an idiot. "He got it from you."

         She looks up at me, giving me a look that makes me realize – I only turn my charm on when I'm not thinking about it. And in this case, when I don't even want it to be turned on.

         "Well, he got your eyes."

         I love how we're talking about this like we already know he's mine. "He got your hair."

         "He got your talkativeness."

         "Okay, that's not fair, I don't know enough about his personality to say- what-what are you doing?" I cut myself off to ask the question, a little wide-eyed as she takes off her flats, shifting closer to me- oh, this won't be good. This is not going to be good.

         I'm quite proud of myself when I don't let out a single peep, let alone a scream when she lies down, her head a little under my right collarbone; her actions do make my breathing irregular as well as my pulse, but I physically end up doing nothing that could've ruined this beautiful moment. Well, it's beautiful because I have Conrad on my left side – her suddenly deciding to lie on my chest is debatable. I mean, sure, her hair looks as soft as I remember it and there's also the familiar scent of cinnamon and roses is there, not to mention her body that makes it hard to believe she's ever given birth-

         "He got both of us," She says suddenly, further nuzzling her head into my chest- it's actually good that she spoke, or else my thoughts would've taken me down a road that I'd have quite a bit of trouble returning from.

         However, when I absentmindedly place my hand on her back, rubbing it down to the base of her spine and back up, Kirsten looks up at me- and I realize I'm already halfway down that road.

*

I REALLY LIKED WRITING THIS PART

THEY WERE MY ULTIMATE OTP UNTIL I FUCKED THINGS UP

(PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT ASDGHHJDF)