Enticing (50) (Patreon)

Author's note: Here is a new chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Love youuu all! 

word count: 2.0K 

Y/N and Delilah's relationship had once been close and unstrained. They shared a tight bond growing up, and even when Y/N went off to college, they remained connected. Y/N would frequently pick up Delilah, and they would spend time together in the city, especially when Elizabeth, their mother, was occupied. However, the dynamics shifted dramatically during a Christmas break when Y/N stayed over for the holidays.

On a particular day, Y/N woke up later than usual, unconcerned due to being on vacation. Initially, the house felt empty, with her mother leaving a note in the kitchen explaining that she had gone out to handle something at the office. The note also requested Y/N to wake up Delilah if she was still in bed and to start defrosting the chicken for Christmas dinner.

She followed her words with precision, fetching the chicken and arranging it on a tray before ascending the stairs to awaken Delilah. As she approached Delilah's door down the hallway, the sound of giggling reached her ears, indicating that Delilah was already awake. Nonetheless, Y/N proceeded to enter her room. Since childhood, it had been a customary practice for either of them to join the other in bed upon waking, sharing a moment to cuddle and watch a show.

However, everything took a stark turn when Y/N walked into Delilah's room only to find her engaged in drug use with her boyfriend. It wasn’t marijuana, but Y/N could tell that they were doing pills and cocaine for the tiny residue of white powder on her nightstand.

Y/N was furious, unable to believe what her eyes had witnessed. Swiftly, she ushered Delilah's boyfriend out of the house, delivering stern words to her sister. Despite Y/N's attempt to approach the situation with politeness and understanding, Delilah's primary concern was the potential revelation to their mother. It was clear – Y/N had to inform their mother, Elizabeth, to put a stop to the escalating situation.

Without a second thought, Y/N disclosed everything when her mother arrived through the front door. However, Elizabeth's unexpected reaction caught Y/N off guard. She vehemently denied every allegation, as if she had witnessed the entire incident firsthand.

In a state of denial, Elizabeth refused to believe Y/N's account. To her, Delilah, though not perfect, had been raised in the same manner as Y/N. The accusations seemed like a fabrication.

As tensions escalated with everyone shouting, Y/N pointed out that Elizabeth's leniency toward Delilah was a ticking time bomb. This declaration led to Y/N being expelled from the house, a decision she agreed with for the best.

Months later, Elizabeth received a call from the school reporting that Delilah had passed out due to drugs found in her system. Faced with the possibility of her daughter being expelled and the embarrassment of a doctor's visit, Elizabeth took drastic measures. She forbade Delilah from seeing her boyfriend and imposed stricter rules.

"You get to live here with your boyfriend while I'm not allowed to see mine. How is that fair?" Delilah cried in front of both her mother and sister.

"My boyfriend doesn't use drugs, Delilah. It's as simple as that," she calmly stated, her hands gently caressing her tummy.

"That's bullshit! I should have a say in who I can date or not. Both of you are just assholes," she shouted, tears streaming down her face. Elizabeth, about to respond, was interrupted by Y/N, who pressed her hand against Delilah's shoulder.

"Calm down. This isn't your home and stop yelling at us. When you turn eighteen, you are free to do whatever you please. If you want to leave home and move in with him, then go ahead; we won't stop you. You are still seventeen and under Mom's guardianship. Grow up," Y/N dryly said, tired of the conversation already. She felt like she was talking to a wall.

"Now, go to sleep," Elizabeth added, earning a slamming door to their faces. "I am sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to cause trouble or bring it into your home."

"Mom, this has nothing to do with you. She is just being a brat. Eventually, she'll realize that what we did was just to help her and with the best intentions." Elizabeth nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. She felt embarrassed, and it was a relief to finally have someone on her side after more than a year of constant struggle. "Now, get some sleep. I love you," Y/N smiled, kissing the top of her head.

The journey to Anguilla proved to be quite arduous, especially for Y/N, who, being pregnant, found the nearly five-hour flight exceptionally uncomfortable. However, as soon as they set foot on Anguilla, the exhaustion seemed to dissipate in the face of the island's breathtaking beauty.

Anguilla, cradled in the warm embrace of the Eastern Caribbean, mesmerized with its awe-inspiring charm. Endless stretches of pristine white-sand beaches unfolded, caressed by the gentle touch of the turquoise Caribbean Sea. Palms swayed gracefully in the balmy breeze, orchestrating a natural symphony in the serene surroundings. Beneath the crystal-clear waters, vibrant coral reefs beckoned for exploration, revealing a mesmerizing array of marine life. Quaint villages dotted the landscape, their colorful buildings adorned with bougainvillea, creating a postcard-worthy scene against the azure sky.

Y/N successfully persuaded Harry to opt for a resort instead of renting out an extravagant mansion for their week-long babymoon. She even convinced him to choose a regular suite over a presidential one. Initially resistant, Harry relented when Y/N expressed her desire for a tranquil and ordinary babymoon, and he, in his eagerness to give her the world, agreed to her wishes.

"Thank you for choosing to stay with us, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. We're delighted to have you here, and we hope you thoroughly enjoy your time," the receptionist warmly greeted them, handing over their electronic keys. Harry offered a quiet acknowledgment before intertwining their hands, leading Y/N towards the elevators.

As the elevator doors closed, sealing them in a private moment, Y/N couldn't help but question the unexpected title bestowed upon her. "Mrs. Styles? Really?" she queried, her curiosity peeking through. It marked the first time she had been addressed as such, and she pondered whether it was a deliberate decision by the receptionist or an innocent oversight. The realization struck her—she liked the sound of it, even though they weren't married or engaged. It carried a certain charm that resonated within her.

"What?" Harry responded, arching his eyebrow with a mischievous smile playing on his lips. A nonchalant shrug followed. "I didn't feel like correcting the man. He was just doing his job."

Y/N couldn't help but tease him, "You usually love correcting people. What's different about this scene?" Harry chuckled, shaking his head at her. "Was it intentional or a mistake?"

"Don't worry about it," Harry reassured her, sealing his response with a kiss on the top of her head and a brief peck on her lips just as the elevator doors opened to reveal their floor. "I'm starving. Let's grab some food and head to the beach."

After a quick shower to refresh themselves, Y/N and Harry headed down to the restaurant. Y/N had chosen a white bikini beneath a sandy-colored beach dress, her hair pulled up into a bun to combat the effects of the hot weather. Harry opted for a loose button-down shirt and swim trunks.

As they settled at a table overlooking the ocean, the cool breeze from the sea kept them refreshed. Y/N perused the menu, sharing, "I'm craving a cold fruity drink. The Benedict eggs sound good." When met with silence, she looked up to find Harry gazing at her with an affectionate expression.

"What?" she inquired, lifting her sunglasses so their eyes could connect.

"Nothing. I just love you endlessly," Harry confessed, his gaze lingering. "And you're glowing with your pregnancy."

Nervously, Y/N ran a hand across her pregnant tummy, savoring the habitual connection with her unborn daughter. The gentle movements beneath her fingers served as a comforting anchor, grounding her in the reality of impending motherhood. The uncertainty of what kind of parent she would be lingered in her thoughts. Y/N desired a close relationship with her daughter yet also envisioned instilling the same discipline her father, Harry, embodied.

"I'm nervous. What if she doesn't like me?" Y/N candidly shared her doubts. "What if she hates me and dreads coming home for the holidays because she can't stand me?"

"Darlin', she hasn't even been born. I'm sure she's going to love you just like Oliver does," Harry reassured, a warm smile lighting up his face. "And trust me, nothing can be worse than my parents, and you're nothing like them." He chuckled, attempting to alleviate her concerns with humor.

Before Y/N could utter a word, a disinterested waitress approached to take their order.

"Room number?" The young woman mechanically recited; her lack of enthusiasm evident. Harry exchanged a glance with Y/N, both sensing her disinterest, though neither chose to comment.

"805," Harry replied, "We'd like one watermelon juice, one mango juice, eggs benedict, and French toasts, please."

The waitress, seemingly uninterested until now, finally glanced up from her notepad as she reached for the menus. It was at that moment she noticed Harry.

"Oh, hi!" she exclaimed, instantly drawn to his charm. Harry, unaware of her attraction, offered a kind smile. "Would you like the juices turned into cocktails?"

"I wouldn't," Y/N interjected, feeling uncomfortable with the waitress's persistent gaze.

"Neither would I. I'll be supportive of you," Harry added, emphasizing his decision not to drink in solidarity with Y/N during her pregnancy. He wanted to ensure she didn't feel left out when others enjoyed a drink by the beach.

"Supporting who?" The waitress bluntly asked, catching the couple off guard with her straightforwardness.

"To me. His pregnant girlfriend," Y/N replied with a tinge of bitterness, finally prompting the waitress to acknowledge her presence.

"Oh, right. Sorry. I'll be back with your order," she responded, her gaze momentarily shifting to her stomach before returning to Y/N's displeased expression.

"Look at you marking territory," Harry playfully pointed out, observing the unexpected assertiveness. "I've never seen you so aggressive."

"Shut up," Y/N quickly retorted, putting an end to his teasing. "She was literally asking for it. Kept looking at you as if you were naked." Harry burst into laughter as she continued to pout.

"She is quite perky, isn't she?" The woman from the couple sitting beside them remarked, prompting Harry and Y/N to turn toward them, realizing how close they were to their table. "The waitress," she clarified, noticing their confused expressions.

"Oh, right!" Y/N nodded in understanding. "She clearly wants to be working." The couple chuckled, appearing a few years older than them.

"I'm Paige, and this is my husband, David," she introduced after a brief silence. "We noticed you from the moment you walked into the restaurant. You two are a great-looking couple. It's kind of hard to look away."

"I'm Y/N, and that's Harry. Thank you. That's really sweet," Y/N responded, though she could sense Harry's subtle discomfort with the presence of the other couple.

"Are you two married?" the woman asked, her eyes curious. "I mean, you look very much in love," she clarified.

"No, not yet," Harry responded with a warm smile.

"Better hurry up, buddy. Someone could snatch her right from under your feet," David warned, injecting a touch of humor into the conversation. Y/N felt a sudden unease at the thought, her gaze momentarily shifting to Harry, who chuckled but seemed to share a hint of discomfort.