#harry stylesxreader
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If you Love Something
A/N: this has been an idea sitting in my drafts for a while. You and Harry had a brief but intense relationship as teenagers, were forced to make a serious decision then, and it’s aftereffects have lingered for the rest of your lives. It deals with some heavier topics so read with caution (alcoholism, depression, unwanted pregnancy etc). I’d describe it as sad but hopeful.
Part 2
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Age 17.
It started in secret. We’d found each other on the roof of a house party. Truth be told, I saw him sneak out of the window where people were crowded around the TV watching some controversial music video I hadn’t heard about. And I’d followed.
I knew who Harry was. Had him in English, Maths, and Biology last year. He was well spoken, thoughtful, and silly. I never spoke to him once though. Only admired him from afar.
Tonight I had my first drink and then another. I was feeling buzzed and despite being painfully shy for most of the time I’d known everyone here, I was suddenly gripped by the realization that we were approaching the last year we would all be together. Why had I waited this long to pursue someone I thought was cute?
I snuck out after him, when my friends weren’t looking. I even tilted the window more closed than usual so no one would suspect anything; I had the attic room at home so I knew how to maneuver the angled roof to get comfortable.
“You need any help?” Harry’s voice is clear in the silence.
“I’m alright.” I stand up to peer at him. He’s climbed near the top.
“Sure? You don’t seem steady.”
“Oh I’m steady,” I prove it to him by climbing up to where he was. “See?”
“I’m mistaken. My bad.” He holds out a hand to help me sit beside him and the night sky flashes brighter for an instant when I grasp his hand. My stomach is in knots.
“Harry. Styles.” I don’t know why I say his full name but I was nervous.
He repeats my full name back to me. I don’t know why I’m surprised he knows it. It’s not like we went to a big school.
“What brings you out here?”
I try to be bold about it, “You?”
“Party was getting too much.” He says. I stare at him in confusion while he complains about something his friends had gotten up to.
I replay my answer and realized it sounded like I’d skipped answering his question and asked the question back. Bugger.
“You know my name.” I interrupt him, forgetting he was telling me a story. Awkward.
“Yeah? Of course I do.”
“We’ve never talked.”
“We talked. Once in Maths. We had to grade each other’s answers.”
Oh yeah. I burn when I remember the 4/10 he’d given me with a smiley face saying that maths was masochistic.
“Barely.”
“I know you though,” he says with a softness that makes my heart stutter.
“Do you?” I look to him, resting my chin on my shoulder. He gazes down at me and I swear I could taste the colours around us.
His eyes draw me deeper as he inches closer. Was he going to kiss me? Oh my god.
I look back out to the roof and he jerks away. Omg.
“I do.”
“Oh,” I don’t know what to do after that awkward moment.
“I know you’re really quiet and shy but your smile is so loud you can see it from across the room.” He says and my breath catches as he continues. “You’re yourself with your friends, you really like Harry Potter and field hockey. You would kill Mal Adams if you could get away with it and you hate Maths just as much as you love art. You’re dating Oli Graves but your smile is only ever shining half as bright when you’re around him. Can I go on?”
I stop breathing completely halfway through his declaration of knowing me. All this time I had my eye on him, I didn’t know he was watching me too.
“I didn’t ask you for your opinion on my relationship.”
“You didn’t. I didn’t give you one either.”
I glare at him. He was right. He smiles knowing he was. I’m mad that I’m not mad at him. That he was right.
“What are you doing with a guy like that?”
Oli and I had been dating for 7 months now. He was loud and fun in a way I wish I could be. That’s why I liked him so much. That’s why I was at a party like this to begin with.
“He’s a good guy.”
“That’s all?” He asks. I look over but he’s looking up at the sky. I follow his gaze and get lost in the great expanse of nighttime.
“I think you deserve someone who sees you. Don’t you?”
“Did Ally see you?” I ask with a hint of aggression I didn’t mean to have.
“Ally and I broke up during Easter. So there’s your answer.” He’s unbothered.
“Well what do you want?” I ask.
“Right now? Or in life?”
I shrug. “Both?”
“I want to explore the world and meet all kinds of people. I wanna make the world a better place by being in it. It’s cheesy as shit so if you ever said I said this I’ll deny it and you’ll look like-“
“My lips are sealed.” I turn his way to promise him that. It makes me laugh at how serious he looks saying it all and when I do his face relaxes.
“You laugh is nice too. I forgot to mention that.”
That quiets me very quickly.
“And right now,” he continues. “I’d really like to kiss you.”
My ears ring. Did I hear him right? Could you get so drunk you hallucinate? I swear the cold air had sobered me-
“Did you hear what I said?” Harry’s moved in closer to me. Did I? I don’t know.
“What d-“
“I’d like to kiss you.”
I nod, afraid to talk and realize I’d hallucinated him saying that.
The world melts away when he kisses me. It’s tender, nothing like Oli and his jagged pushy kissing. In the nighttime air it’s warm, and soft, and easy.
“I know you,” Harry says when we part. I’d nearly climbed into his lap and I try to edge away, embarrassed, but he keeps a hand firm on my thigh.
“I know you too Harry,” I breathe. He smiles and it crinkles his luscious eyes.
I think I was falling.
***
We keep it a secret after I break up with Oli. For months, until mid-August when I invite him over for dinner after my mom insists on meeting “the boy I was all doe-eyed over”. The night with my family goes so well—Harry is the picture of a courteous gentleman that even my sister is swayed by him despite saying boys were gross. I ask him to hang out, in public, the next day. He doesn’t hesitate to say yes.
That’s what I love about Harry—yes love. He’s not pushy, he lets me go at my own pace. He respects me and sees me for everything I am and loves me anyway. I wanted to spend my whole life with him.
It was so intense and relaxed at the same time. It felt like no relationship I’d been in before. I felt different being with him, even my friends noticed.
When final year started, Harry and I were official but we didn’t flaunt it. We didn’t need to. My friends knew about us and they were happy for us, they told me I was more me. Whatever that meant.
Life was phenomenal and I was living in a dusky haze. Nothing could touch us.
Until one day in February. I was out with my sister, mum didn’t want to take her out and since I recently got my driver’s license with plenty of lessons from Harry, I was driving her to the mall. She needed Valentine’s Day cards.
“I thought you said love is stupid.” I remind her on the way.
“It is.”
“So why the hell am I driving you to buy cards for a made up holiday?”
“Because!” She crosses her arms and stares out the window. I flick her arm at a red light.
“You have a crush.”
“I do not!”
“Do too. Who is it? James? Mattie? Hamid?”
“Ew! They’re freaks.” My sister continues staring out the window.
“Why do you want to buy cards so bad!?”
“I just want them! For my friends!”
“Okay then,” I didn’t believe her. But I couldn’t bring her home crying or mum would ground me.
A lot of places have slim pickings. Wandering the aisle of Waterstones I catch sight of a family friend. She was my dad’s uni friend’s daughter, a few years older than me but by the time I got to secondary she had dropped out after getting pregnant. I remember the buzz when everyone found out.
I avoid her and find an aisle to occupy myself.
Harry and I were always careful, mum had already given me the talk and he never pressured me to do anything I didn’t. I imagine Harry as a dad. He would make a good one I think.
As one thought leads to another I go cold as I realize something. My last period was during the holidays.
I feel like I’m walking in a swarm of locusts as I walk to the edge of the aisle, scanning for my sister. Maybe I can pop into a pharmacy before she’s done. Maybe…
This was crazy. It was probably just a missed period.
But if it isn’t, another voice asks. I felt it in my gut. I had to do this.
I don’t remember getting home. I don’t remember anything about the rest of that day except two faint lines, and then two faint lines again, and a third time. I fall asleep before dinner that night and shut the world out.
***
“I know something’s wrong.” Harry’s walking me home after school. It’s Valentine’s Day and he’d been nothing but sweet. He bought me chocolates, flowers, and we planned to cook dinner together after school. I had bought him chocolates too, and had written him a heartfelt note with a bunch of photos of us weeks ago. The box was in my room, waiting for tonight. “Do you not like the flowers? Or is it dinner? We can go out somewhere instead?”
“No everything’s lovely.” I’d never heard Harry this desperate before. It gets under my skin even though part of me knows that’s not really it. But having him hover over me all week trying to figure out what was wrong was too much.
I’d spent every night this week with a hand over my belly. Thinking about it. I hadn’t told anyone. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. All I can think of was Jenny and I didn’t want that life. I couldn’t. I couldn’t be a mother.
“Please. What’s the matter.” Harry asks again, tugging at my hands but I pull them away.
“I just need some space!” I shout and he flinches. “I’m sorry Harry. I just need space right now.”
“Right now like…” he scratches his head. “I don’t get you. It’s Valentine’s Day, we’ve been talking about this day for weeks what do you mean you want space?”
“I can’t do this right now. Please.”
“Are you-are we…”
“I’m not breaking up with you.” I look at Harry with tears in my eyes, I didn’t want to cry out here. But every time I look at him I remember the reality. What’s growing inside me. I can’t take it. “I just can’t do today.”
I go inside my house. Leave him without further explanation. I feel awful, I can’t hold the tears in long enough to get to my room.
***
“Hey love?” My mum and dad knock on my door at half past 5. I lay in the dark, having cried myself dry. “We’re worried about you. Can we talk.”
“I can’t.” I say, voice stuffy.
“I thought you and that boyfriend of yours had plans,” dad says. He liked Harry but he rarely called him by his name. “Did something happen?”
“No!” I wanted them to leave me alone. “I just. I had to cancel. I’m fine.”
“Don’t sound fine to me love,” I feel the mattress dip as mum sits down. Dad strokes my hair. They whisper something I can’t hear and a pair of footsteps pad out of my room.
“Mum just leave me alone.” I try again.
“I’m not.” She pushes me further into my bed and leans down, tugging my blanket down. When I finally look at her she smiles kindly and kisses my forehead. That fills me up enough to start wailing again. “Oh love, what’s wrong?”
“Everything!” I sob into my blanket. Mom lays down beside me and I let myself be cradled like a child. God, I had a child. This was so fucked.
“Talk to me. We can figure it out together.”
I don’t know how my parents would react. They were never particularly strict, especially after what happened with Jenny I remember them always being sympathetic. We even visited her in hospital with a gift.
Mum strokes my hair and whispers that it’ll be okay. Slowly my sobbing eases into light sniffles. I had to tell her. She would know what to do. And if she hated me for it, I would just have to deal with it.
“Mum don’t be mad-“
“I won’t honey I-“
“No. Mum.” I cut her off. She moves back on the pillow so she can see my whole face, moving a strand of hair so I couldn’t hide. “Something…messed up. Happened. And…I was careful. We were always careful I don’t know what happened but I-“
I watch her face changed. Like she knew. She knew what was coming but she waits patiently as I muster up the courage to say the words that felt too real once I said them.
“Mum I’m…I’m pregnant.”
Her eyes fill with tears and she bites her lip. What was she thinking? Was she crying for me or with me? Why wasn’t she saying anything!?
“Mum-“
“C’mere.” She wraps me in her embrace again and kisses the top of my head. My body feels drained and limp. I finally told somebody. It was real. This living thing inside of me was real.
“What happened?” She asks next. And I tell her what I think happened. When. How I found out. She listens, holding my hand in hers. When I’m done and it’s poured out of me she smiles supportively. “This isn’t a bad thing okay? It’s okay. Any decision you make is up to you. I’ll talk to your dad but just know you call the shots okay? I love you.”
This is what carries me. The love.
She asks me it I told Harry yet and I tell her the truth. She urges me to tell him. I tell her I wanted to so bad but I was scared.
She leaves shortly after that, I hear her talking softly outside my room. Nobody calls me for dinner until 7, a soft knock on my door. My sister would never be so soft, I assume it’s dad so I tell him to come in. I was scared to face him.
It’s Harry instead.
“Harry!” I cover my splotchy face with my blanket, why was he here? Did mum invite him? This was soo embarrassing.
My heart pounds and Harry is silent until he takes a seat where mum had previously been.
“I came over, your mum invited me. She explained.”
She did what? For a moment I feel betrayed.
“She said you weren’t doing so well. Stressed? I could make you some tea if you’d like. But I told you y/n, you’ll get into unis. You don’t have to worry so…”
I sigh. Mum had told him a half-truth. But he had come. Of course he had.
I couldn’t even think about uni right now because that lead me down a road of what if I couldn’t go because I had a baby. And that life felt so bleak it made me depressed.
“Harry.” I inch my blanket down a little and his eyes go round when he looks at me.
“You look…awful.”
“I know.” I cover my face with my hair but he brushes it away and kisses my forehead.
“No. I’m worried about you. I brought dinner-“
“Oh Harry.” I spot the bag he brought with him.
“I made it all for us. With my mum’s help but mostly me. I packed it to bring to you.”
I didn’t deserve him. And I had to tell him. And he was going to break up with me. What high school boy wanted a child?
“Harry it’s not uni.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I was carrying another living thing. It was the size of a seed but I was carrying it inside me. Like a living breathing pot. I was a potted plant.
“Then what is it?” His brows crinkle. “Is it us?”
“No!” I rush to tell him. “I…I don’t know how to say this. And I don’t know how you’re going to react but it’s okay either way.”
“What are you talking about?” His hands slide up my lap. “What is it?”
“Harry. I’m um, I’m pregnant.”
I watch him freeze and stay exactly how he is, his brows pinch ever so slightly. I knew this look. He looked still on the outside but his mind was racing. And I was scared what was racing through it.
“Pregnant?”
“Yeah. From…the holidays.”
“How did-I thought we-“
“I guess it’s not foolproof.” I whisper. Mum had told me to go on the pill, and I hadn’t listened because all my friends told me it made them gain weight. If only I had listened. Now I was gaining weight anyway.
“What are we going to do?” He asks next. And I never realized six little words could weigh the world. If I could cut those words out and surgically implant them into my heart I would. Just to remind me the equal parts relieved and comforted they made me.
I hold his face in my hands, new tears springing to my eyes. He was in this. With me.
He kisses me and pulls me into a hug. I cry into his shirt again and he holds me so tight I swear I could break.
“I don’t know if I can keep it Harry,” I finally whisper to him.
His hands fist in my shirt, he holds his breath and after a long minute he lets me go with it.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Was he really okay with all this?
“It’s…I can’t make you keep it.”
“You’d want to keep it?” I couldn’t believe it.
“It’s…” he swallows his sentence and keeps his gaze on my stomach. I tug his hand and lay it over it. When his eyes meet mine I see a hint of heartbreak. We were going to break our hearts either way I think.
Not once did I think he might want to keep it.
“It’s okay.” Harry finally says. “We’re so young right? How would we keep a baby and go to school, and do everything we always talk about?”
“Yeah I don’t…I don’t know.”
“I love you.” He says with such a sudden passion. I wrap my arms around his and return the sentiment.
Eventually we lay down and just talk about everything. Truthfully, my head was telling me not to keep the baby but everything else felt dead thinking about it.
Maybe that’s why it took me until April to finally make a decision. It was the size of a plum by then, and a tiny bump was starting to show but only when I stood naked in front of the mirror. With clothes on, nobody was the wiser. But the longer I kept it, I think the more Harry fell in love with it. The idea of it.
We have a long talk during our Easter holiday. We talked in my bedroom until the sun comes up. I tell him I was sure of my decision.
I’d gotten accepted to Cambridge by then. Harry was staying in London. We knew it wasn’t feasible. To live the life we always wanted, we had to get rid of this new life we never knew could happen.
I don’t know why but I don’t tell him the day I go to do it. I go with my mum. Mum drops my sister off at school—she didn’t know. Mum said she had a big mouth.
We drive in silence. When we park mum asks how I feel.
“Sad.” It was the truth. I knew this was right. But it felt like shite.
“Yeah.” She rubs my hands. “Want to go in?”
“I just want to sit here for a bit.” I tell her.
“Okay. I’ll go sign you in.”
She takes my purse and hers and leaves me there. I take the moment to ground myself. Say goodbye to the other future.
When mum knocks on my window I jump.
“Yn? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah yeah I’m coming in.” I open the door.
“You know you’ve been sitting here half hour?”
I pause, one leg out the door and one still in. “I…I must have got lost in my head. Sorry mum-“
“Look. Do you want to do this?”
“I don’t know…I have to.”
“There are other options love-“
“But how can I give it up and live my whole life like that?”
“We can help raise her. You can go on and live your life-“
“I’d be a horrible mother.” Mum and I had this row so many times before. It always ended in me storming away but I couldn’t here.
“You don’t need to make the decision today.”
“But I do.” I tell her. “Otherwise it’ll drive me insane.”
I tuck both feet back into the car and rest my hand on my belly. I’d allowed myself to do that only in my room, when I was alone. Doing it out here made it feel even more real. Suddenly I couldn’t imagine going through with the decision.
“I can’t do this.” I tell my mum.
She smooths my hair down and kisses my temple. My door closes and a few seconds later she climbs in beside me.
“Think about it.”
“I can’t. But I can’t keep it either.”
“Okay.” Mum pulls me into her and I think I should cry but I can’t. I’m calm, maybe I know I’d made the right decision. Or just a decision. I was going to stick to this.
“I can’t raise it. I’m just a child I…maybe someone out there wants a baby and can’t have one maybe-“
“I’ll look into it for you.” Mum promises. “You set the rules remember?”
And that’s how it goes. Mum looks into it, we decide to go for adoption. We go to the hospital on the first warm day of the year. By then I’d taken to wearing jumpers over flowy dresses and been thankful for the first time in my life that I wasn’t skinny like other girls. At most angles you couldn’t tell my belly was so perfectly round.
By then too, Harry had accepted the decision. He seemed relieved. Thinking aloud he’d said maybe he could raise it, but quickly turned around when I asked him what he’d do about uni.
“Someone out there can take care of it better than us. Someone will love the baby like we do.”
During the summer, I tell all my friends I was staying with family in midlands. And I do go up there, that’s where the couple who was adopting lived. Harry and I meet them with my mum and his. It’s awkward, we run out of conversation fast. But their house is big and they already have a 2 year old from an adoption last year. My baby was going to be loved here. And have a sibling.
“We did want to discuss one last thing,” they’d said before we left. We all listen intently. “We…find it best when it’s a no contact adoption. We’ve had a lot of friends who keep contact open and it gets messy-“
“What?” I hadn’t really thought about this until now. Hearing I’d have to give the baby up and go on like it didn’t exist felt wrong. Harry’s hand slips into mine.
“This is typical,” Harry’s mum says from his side. “Let’s hear it out.”
“Right. So just to prevent future complications, we do no contact. Of course when baby’s older and wants to seek out the real parents we can’t stop them. But until then…”
“Thank you.” My mum steps in when it goes silent. I could hardly wrap my head around what they were saying. When it gets older?
Pretty soon mum is ushering me out and Harry’s hand is still clutching mine. We don’t let go until we reach my Uncle’s where we were staying until August. The baby was due in September. I was going to miss the first week of class.
“I can’t do this.” I tell them later. “How can we just have no contact.”
“I thought you knew.” Mum says. “I explained that some parents want this when they adopt.”
She might have. Ever since I hit the third trimester like my doctor said, I’ve had a hard time listening and understanding what someone was saying after they spoke too long. I was glad school was done—for obvious reasons, but also for not having to sit in a class and learn.
“We have no other choice.” Harry says from beside me. He rubs my back and slowly, I zone back into the conversation. “We can find another family but they might want the same thing.”
“What if the baby never looks for us?” I turn to him, our heads press against the other’s. “What if we go our whole lives just wondering?”
“What’s the other option?” Harry whispers. He was right. I just didn’t want to get it.
Acceptance slowly creeps into me over the course of the summer. It was always hot carrying another person around, I was always hungry and thirsty, and very cranky. Harry came up to see me every other weekend when he could, mum stayed with me and that summer was one I could never forget.
It was September 1st, a particularly hot day. Rain fell in the afternoon and by the time the unforgiving sun set, the cool air was heavenly.
I sat by the bedroom window, moisturizing my belly like mum had shown me, talking to the baby. I wrote it a letter last week all about me, that I loved them and hoped the best for them. I told the baby about my family, how Harry and I met, and then I sealed it in an envelope with a picture of Harry and me. It was taken last Halloween when we’d both dressed up as each other. I tell mum to give it to the new parents. In case the day came the baby wondered about who we were.
As I spoke softly, I felt a gush of something wet down my leg.
“What?” I stand up, confused. “I…”
It takes me a second. I was going into labour.
“Mum!” I shout. “Mum! Come here!”
She rushes in and confirms it. It was happening.
“But it’s supposed to be next week!” I try not to panic but that’s all I can do as mum grabs our things and my aunt rushes to the car. “Does this mean something’s wrong? Is the baby o-“
I freeze as a contraction forces me to fold. I’d felt the kicking and the nausea and everything in between but these. These were a bitch.
Somehow we make it to hospital. Somehow I lay on a bed and push when the doctor tells me to. I nearly pass out. I just wanted Harry here with me. He didn’t know his kid was being born.
With a final push that felt like I was ascending my body and leaving it behind, I hear a wail and I cry. The baby was out, they cried and everything was okay.
“Okay congratulations mummy,” a nurse crouches down to me. “We’re going to clean you and baby up. She’s healthy and looks okay.”
“What?” I can barely see with my hair in my face and the nurses around me. It was a she? I had a baby girl?
We were never told the gender, so we wouldn’t get attached. But I had a baby girl. The nurse just called me mum.
I feel the tears on my cheeks, I was crying too. I try to look around me but a new nurse is talking in hushed voices to the doctor.
“…outside…call…adoption…shouldn’t or….contact-“
“What’s going on?” I can barely get the words out. “What?”
“Oh my love,” suddenly mum’s in the room and things are a bit better. A bit better.
“Mum what’s going on?”
“The baby’s born. The parents are outside they’re going to meet her soon.”
“What?” I look at mum’s face and it’s shining with tears. Why was she crying?
“Oh she’s beautiful love, she’s perfect. But your job’s done now. You should rest.”
“Mum,” I cry. “Where is she? Can’t I hold her?”
“No love,” mum moves my hair out of my face. I feel something break in half inside of me. I couldn’t even hold the baby? The baby girl? Mine and Harry’s baby girl?
“Why? Mum why? I just want to see her-“
“I’m sorry,” mum says through tears. “It’s just the way it is. She’s going to a loving home okay? She’s good. You’re okay.”
I can’t stop crying. I was going to lose her last April and I stopped that but I lost her anyway. My baby, I was never going to see her.
I remember when my sister was born. I was 5 and I was angry she’d taken the attention away. But when I saw her with her perfect toes and angel face I was obsessed with her. I even remember her first steps, she’d taken them at a park with mum and dad and me together. I was never going to know these things about my own baby. I was never going to know her.
I must pass out soon after. I remember waking up to the nurses instructing me about something. I’m half asleep and barely remember what I did when I get up. When I do wake it’s morning and there’s a figure on the chair beside me.
“You’re up.”
Harry. Relief washes over me knowing he’s here.
“Harry they took her,” I tell him.
“I know. I know yn.”
I move aside and he crawls into bed with me. I must look disgusting but he watches me with love brimming in his eyes. I can tell he’s been crying.
“I feel empty,” I whisper. Like someone had carved me out like a pumpkin. Something I’d had with me all year was gone. “How can I just move on? Start uni and all that when I…they just took her.”
“I keep thinking that.” Harry says. “Khalil invited me to a party to meet some blokes from uni and I just sat in my car the whole time. I couldn’t even go in. She…she was never going to be ours.”
“I feel awful.” I burrow into his neck as he strokes my hair. “A baby girl.”
“A baby girl,” Harry echoes.
***
I head to uni a week later. My body still feels like it fought a war and lost. It’s like it still thinks there’s a baby there. I produce milk for a few days, continue to have contractions, my belly is saggier than usual and I can’t stop crying about everything.
My dad drops me off to uni. He tells me he was proud of me, that I was always his baby girl. I cry then just like I cried at home when I said bye to mum, or when my sister hugged me which she never does. I can’t stop crying.
When I move into my dorm I feel like a completely different person than I thought I was going to be. My dormmate fills me in on everything she’s learned, complains about a boy and a party and it just feels so irrelevant to me. Did I used to care about those things? I had a baby. And now I didn’t.
By October, Harry and I are in different worlds. We hadn’t broken up but we talk weekly. Each week there’s less to talk about. When I visit home in October, being around him just makes me sad. He tries to cheer me up, make it like old times, but I know he’s hurting inside too.
I decide to do the breaking up. And at first he’s angry, insisting we could make it work. He actually refuses and walks away. We don’t talk for a whole day.
But at a house party in South where his uni mates were from, he accepts the end.
Through tears we kiss each other one final time, we whisper sweet nothings, we pour into each other all the hopes and wishes we had for each other.
When he hugs me for the last time I leave something behind. It’s similar to waking up the morning after my delivery and knowing something was gone. I really feel the shape of the loss. It sits in my sternum, a hole that grows smaller with time, but not just yet.
I fall into a depressed state for most of my first semester but my dormmate doesn’t give up on me and eventually I go to my first uni party. Eventually my brain fog clears and I actually go to all my classes. Eventually my life, on the outside, looks like it could be back to normal but inside I ache with the loss. So much that it becomes part of me. I don’t know where it ends, and I begin. It lives in me.
Age 23.
“The first of many hey?” Mal clinks his bottle to mine. I barely knew Mal but we were both friends with Khalil and therefore both at his stag.
“Before you know it we’re all going down,” one of Khalil’s friends joins in. “Stag after stag, suit after suit, it’s gonna be a blur man.”
“Let’s enjoy it while we can!” Someone cheers and everyone raises their beers. I toast with a smile; blokes loved to act like being in a relationship was the last thing they wanted when I knew most of them were mush in their girlfriend’s hands.
I also smile knowing I bought an engagement ring a few weeks back. I wanted to propose to Shannon, we met on her 22 when a friend invited me along. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the birthday girl. We’d been together since.
“Who do you think’s next?” The bets start going and nobody bets on me. Everyone always thought Shan was too good for me, they were counting on us breaking up. I was going to prove them all wrong.
The night gets sloppier until we all head back to the air bnb we’d rented for this. Tomorrow we were all supposed to go play golf like we were cosplaying old money bastards when we all knew we were just broke blokes from East. But I guaranteed they’d all be too hungover. We would get to the club and just drink the hangovers away.
And I’m right. I update Shan that I’m right when the boys stay in the dining area of the club. They decide on lunch and I step out to talk to my girlfriend.
“No birds allowed this weekend,” someone pipes in when I excuse myself.
“That’s just cuz you’re miserable Eli.” I brush past as the boys laugh. At me. And him.
I catch up with Shan. It was a bright day for September and I stay a little longer after the phone ends. Shan was in med school, she was always stressed or sleep deprived. I tried to support her the best I could—right now she needed moral support that she was going to get an internship she was applying for.
“Mummy doesn’t like when I have sweets,” a small voice says to my left. I look at a father with his daughter. He’s crouched down zipping her sweater up while she rambles on.
“Well it’s going to be our secret.” The dad says. “Sundays are for sweets aren’t they?”
“I love sweets.” She responds.
The father catches my eye and I shoot him a smile.
“Her mum’s going to hear every detail when we get home,” he says as he stands. “Can’t keep a secret to save her life.”
I laugh. The way she was rambling on, I didn’t think so. “How old’s she?”
“6.” He says, smiling down at her fondly. My heart aches.
“Almost 7.” She corrects her dad.
“Birthday’s in the spring.” He says more to me. “But almost 7 sure.”
I see them leave with one more shared smile, like we’re in on something. I imagine that’s how it would feel to be a parent. Always knowing something your kid doesn’t.
My daughter was 6. Wherever she was.
Thinking about the daughter I never had, the girl I lost always leaves me a little winded. Today’s no different.
Yn and I both made an agreement and it had been the hardest thing I’d done. Letting her go. It took me a proper year to even think about moving on.
I liked to think about yn, doing everything she wanted to do. But when I thought about the baby I spiralled into a dark pit. Sometimes when I drank too much, it pulled me in too deep to get out of. That’s what Shan liked to call my depressive drinking. She’s limited me to 3 drinks since.
Before I go in I take a minute to think about yn, where she might be. I hear from friends in high school random facts about her life. But I wonder how she’s doing. If she thinks about our baby like I do. How life would have been if I’d been here, calling her on the phone instead, asking if our baby girl was doing alright.
Age 29.
I stare at the nape of the man in front of me. It couldn’t be, but I’d memorized the back of his head—amongst other things, nearly 2 decades ago and I would bet £1000 I knew who this was. But I continue staring until the cashier rings him up.
In the same voice I remember, the one from my memories and my fantasies, I hear him say: “debit.”
I wait for him to pay before saying, “Harry?”
He turns so quickly he drops his card, wallet, and keys.
“Hi!” I laugh awkwardly and crouch down to help him pick his things up. There’s an awareness that the people in the queue behind me are witness to a moment that feels more intimate than a grocery store chat and it makes me shrink a little in my shell like a spooked turtle.
“Hi I-uh,” Harry short-circuits in front of me as the bored cashier holds his receipt out and stares at him with eyes that have worked one shift too many.
“I’ll just bag-“
“Yeah we can talk later.” I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile but it feels watery. I couldn’t believe of all the places I’d run into him, it was a grocery queue. How intense in such a mundane place.
As I watch my total rise on screen I risk a glance at Harry. His hand hovers over a white reusable bag, I wonder if that was his. Or his wife’s. If they did their weekly shop in a mismatch of bags that looked like that or they were the type of couple to have a set.
His eyes are on me though, somehow here and not here. I feel the same way.
I look back to the cashier asking me how I was paying. She glances between Harry and I. I don’t look back at him. Or the growing queue a few feet away.
I take my groceries—just some items my mum asked me to pick up, and stuff them into the tote I’m wearing. Harry waits for me by the exit.
“Hi.” He says as his eyes scan my face. I do the same, taking in all the ways time had spent with him. It must have been good—he looked good. “I can’t believe-“
“A Whole Foods of all places.” I laugh. A grin splits his face but his eyes stay on me.
“That smile, that laugh. God I’ve missed you.”
“I…missed you too.” How I could miss someone I’d known for one year and then never again for nearly two decades…I didn’t realize it was possible until now.
“Are you busy?” He asks. “Maybe we can grab a drink or?”
“I don’t…drink.” I hated that I had to announce it to people. I was still at the stage where I was figuring out how to say it confidently, or find a way around saying it.
“Oh.” Harry glances down at my belly and I realize he’d misunderstood but it’s too unspoken to correct him. “Cafe?”
“Yeah. That sounds lovely.” Honestly going anywhere with him sounded lovely right now. I wanted to cancel all my plans for the day and just sit with him. Stare at him and catch up. I couldn’t believe he was here.
We walk in a comfortable but waiting silence, like taking a cold drink out to a park with the anticipation it’s going to be good , and no desperation to open it as soon as you get it.
“Usual? Tea?” Harry asks when we step into a nearby cafe. It’s big for a cafe but has enough students working on laptops to not feel empty. I nod, unsure how to feel that Harry still knows what I order at a cafe. Or that my order hasn’t changed since 17.
I find us a booth and pretty soon he’s sliding into the seat across from me. The two of us can’t stop smiling.
“Hi,” he says again.
“Hi…”
“You look good, the same but better.”
“I was going to say the same thing about you!” I exclaim. More smiling.
“How’s…I mean, how are you? How is everything? What-“
“There’s so much to ask-“
“I don’t even know how to ask what I want to know!” Harry laughs and I’m warmed from the inside out at the sound of it.
“This shouldn’t be hard!”
“No.” He scrubs his face. “I’m really buzzing that we’ve run into each other.”
“Me too. It’s a bit unbelievable.”
“I know.” He continues gripping his cup and not taking his eyes off of me. It’s the exact way he used to look at me when we were teenagers. It nearly takes my breath away. “You look good—but I already said that. Sorry.”
“No,” I laugh. “That’s all that’s running through my head.”
“Oh—I remember hearing you were engaged a few years ago-“
“Yeah.” I turn my hand so he can see the ring. “Married now. You?”
“Yeah,” he looks down at his own hand. He had so many rings on I couldn’t tell from a glance. “Coming up to 5 years now.”
“Wow. It’s only 1.5 for me but Tatum and I—my husband, we’d been since uni.”
“Took him a while.”
“Mhm,” it had been a sore subject way back then. Harry says it casually but he studies my face. I know he wants to ask more but he’ll politely maneuver around it.
“Are you happy?”
I let out a breath. “That’s more complicated than anything else you could ask!”
“Is it?”
“Yeah I-“ I shrug. “I don’t know if I am. But I also have no idea what I could do about it. So. There’s that.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” My stomach curdles with his words. I didn’t want pity, least of all from Harry. Harry. I can’t believe he was here. “I get it though. Everyone says your 30s are even more glorious than your 20s. We’ll see soon enough if they’re right.”
I meet his eye, they always intimidated me to look too long into. Even now, I glance back down at my drink. When I look up again he has a wry smile twisting his lips. He knew.
I was sorry to hear life hadn’t been as good for him. And then I understand, it wasn’t pity he was giving me. He truly was sorry like I.
I thought about Harry often. Of course I did. I liked to imagine him living out his dreams like he always talked about. I liked to imagine him happy and thriving.
“Do you ever think about us?” I have to ask. “If we did it all differently?”
“We would have had a 12 year old with us.”
Hearing him say it feels like someone had taken a screwdriver and opened me up. Raw and exposed. But looking at him I know he thought about her as much as I had. Both of us were apparently mourning a future neither of us had fought for.
“Yeah,” I breathe but I just sound winded.
“We were trying, at one point—Shan and I.” Harry fiddles with his ring. “Did all the tests and the trials and the shite. But no kids. It put a real strain on my relationship. I think we cracked instead of bending. And I don’t think either of us know how to make it right again.”
I grasp his hand and squeeze. “I know what that’s like. It’s hard. I…a couple years ago. I lost a baby. A baby boy. I felt like it was a punishment for-“
“Don’t.”
We hold onto each other, our drinks long forgotten. He holds my hand and it feels like being known again, like I wasn’t such an awful person. That someone could see everything I’ve done and still choose to have love for me.
“I’m sorry.” He tells me.
“Me too.” I bite my lip. With a sigh I let him go and lean back. Here we’d been so excited to bump into each other but we’d both been carrying sorrow and grief. It wasn’t very hopeful.
“So I guess you’re not drinking because you’re-“
“No.” I say, surprisingly without feeling awkward. “I’m just sober right now. Trying to figure out life without a drink.”
“Sounds like torture but I respect that. Sounds hard.”
“It was at first. I like the feeling now of thinking clearly. But I miss a glass of wine I do sometimes.”
We smile at each other.
“So do you live around here?” Harry broaches talking again after both of us had lapsed into silence for a while. I blink away the fog of the past.
“Yeah. You?”
“Nah. Shan’s out of town and I was feeling lonely. Came over to visit my sister. I’m just staying with her for the week.”
“Lucky me then.” I smile.
“Lucky me too.” He smiles back. It’s soft. We’re soft. It felt impossible to me after all this time the tenderness was still the strongest thing between us.
We chat a bit more, much about nothing. What we did for a job, anyone we still kept in touch with from school. Nothing that meant a lot.
“I need to head off now,” I say when my phone buzzes for a second time. “I was on my way to my mum’s. She keeps calling me.”
“Yeah. Don’t want to keep you.” Harry says but he stays seated. So do I.
We continue just studying the other until my phone rings again and I laugh. “It was…I really loved seeing you.”
I slide out and Harry mirrors me. I still come to his chest, he still smells the same and stands the same and looks just as handsome.
“How about uhm, how about dinner some time?” Harry asks. I knew it was coming, it’s still painful saying no.
“I…can’t. I…we can’t just do dinner, can we?”
“No,” Harry bows his head. We had too much history to just do dinner. From what he said—and I knew, both our lives were too complicated to add the allure of each other into the mix. I couldn’t do that to my life as tempted as I was. Especially not sober.
“Yeah.” He stands straight again and gives me space to head to the door. “Good seeing you. Give your mum my best if she doesn’t hate me.”
“She doesn’t.” I assure him. We stand awkwardly not sure if a kiss, a hug, or a wave was appropriate. We settle for a hug.
I remember the last time I was enveloped in his arms, tucked away into his tall frame. When we said goodbye forever, agreed to live our best lives separately. We’d both been too scarred to be anything together. Too much grief.
“Maybe we’ll run into each other again.” Harry smiles at me when we part.
“Maybe,” I say knowing full well I wouldn’t do groceries on the weekend anymore.
With a final wave we both part ways again, this time it doesn’t feel as much like closure.
Age 35.
“Graduation’s graduating, what a mouthful.” I say to Andie. We sit in the parking lot of a local pub back home. Both of us had avoided reunions after going to the first one 10 years ago and being reminded of how much people liked to remind you of who you used to be. But this year Andie found out an old flame was going and single. And this is the first year I saw that Harry had checked off going. So we’d decided to go together.
I could have easily reached out to him. Asked him about meeting up there. But I didn’t want to come across any way. I remember our run-in 6 years ago. We felt the same way—we would do anything for each other, and I didn’t want any affect over him coming. Last I heard he was still in a relationship. Just cuz I was didn’t mean I had to ruin another.
“Okay. We going in?” Andie passes me her flask.
I’d taken to drinking again. Originally I stopped after a particularly bad night when I was 28. It nearly cost me my wedding back then.
I stopped to get sober. To feel what it felt like not to rely on alcohol to keep from feeling my emotions. I had a lot of grief I never processed. And unfortunately being sober, and processing the grief and depression, had ultimately cost me my marriage. But I was better for it. I knew what unconditional love and support was. I didn’t want to settle for someone who only loved me at my best.
Now I felt in control when I drank. I knew when to stop.
“Let’s go!”
“Do you think he’ll remember me?” Andie asks as we walk up to the place.
“You comment on so many of his posts. I think he does.” I tease.
“Gah. It would have saved me so much heartbreak if I just told him back 18 years ago how I felt.”
“Maybe,” I think about my confessed love 18 years ago and the heartbreak that ensued.
“Well at least I would have gotten him outta my system. Oh god I see him-“
“Hi ladies,” we’re stopped near the front and given name tags, making small talk with the girls working the booth. I vaguely remember them from a club but I have to read their name tags to pretend I remembered them at all.
Andie ditches me pretty quickly but I don’t mind. I find some friends I saw a couple times a year. Guess this was the couple time this year.
The whole time my eyes scan the room. People had brought their partners and I wondered if Harry would do the same. Deep down, I prayed he didn’t. I just wanted to see him.
I spot him halfway through the night. He’s leaning against the bar talking to Khalil. I remembered they used to be friends, he was always nice to me while Harry and I dated.
I watch him talk and drink. I lose him for a bit and then catch him leaving. Shite.
I excuse myself and rush out but nearly trip over myself slowing down. He was just outside for a smoke break.
“When did that habit start?” I ask. He nearly jumps out of his skin.
“Fu-y/n you scared me.” He shakes his face dramatically, like he’s getting something off of it. I bite back a smile, he was pretty drunk. “When did you get here? I didn’t know you came to these things?”
“I don’t.” I correct him. I couldn’t tell him I came for him. “It was just the name of this reunion, Graduation’s graduating. How could I pass it up?”
This earns a laugh. Eases the air between us. “Did you see Oli in there? He’s gotten bald.”
“He looks like his dad actually,” I remember his dad was always coming to Oli’s football matches, screaming at his son to run faster.
“Glad you didn’t end up with him?” Harry smirks.
“Oh yeah. I heard last reunion he just kept going up for the karaoke sober. If I want my bloke to embarrass me, at least give him the excuse of being drunk.”
“Shit,” Harry laughs. “I remember that! I remember! Wish I could forget!”
I laugh with him. “Harry you’re getting pretty close to drunk yourself.”
“Ah yeah. More than 3 drinks that, I’m being naughty tonight.”
I scrunch my nose, no idea what he’s talking about.
“I can’t believe you’re here tonight,” Harry says again. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you again for another 12 years after our last time.”
“Thought I’d halve the time.” I watch Harry squash out the butt.
“Glad you did.” He looks at me and I’m 17 again. Why couldn’t we both be single? Why did I come here knowing I couldn’t have him.
Maybe I was as masochistic as the person who invented maths.
“Yn?” A voice calls out to me. “Oi! It is you I thought I was dreaming you up! What a sight!”
I’d been avoiding Oli all night. Not anymore.
I glance at Harry and he hides a smirk. Oli notices Harry then and his face hardens a little.
“Oli! Long time!” I go in for the hug he’s reaching for, unsure why he was so sweaty on an autumn night. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he grins at me. “You look good! Not a day over 25.”
“Don’t flatter me Oli,” I roll my eyes. “It’s not going to get you anything.”
“I’m not looking! I swear it!” He says earnestly. “I’m just paying you a compliment. It’s good to see you. Hey, I’m actually in a good relationship. Gonna propose to her.”
“Are you? What’s she like?”
I stand in the brisk evening as Oli tells me about his girlfriend. I’m happy for him, what we had in high school wasn’t really a relationship but I never wished him bad. He was a good guy, I was glad he found his person.
I change the subject when he asks about my love life, tell him I was getting cold. We head back in and I tell him I’d catch up to him later. I’d lost Harry and wanted to find him again. I had more I wanted to talk about.
“Khalil,” I interrupt him playing pool. He goes in for a hug and I engage in polite small talk until I tire of it. “I’m looking for Harry.”
“Of course you are,” he wags a finger at me. “I saw him leaving ten minutes ago?”
“Jeez really?” I couldn’t believe I missed him! After coming here just for him. Maybe he had to get home, maybe he had a kid by now. Had to tuck him in.
“He’s not doing so well since the divorce-“
“What?” I stare at Khalil like he’s spoken gibberish. Why hadn’t I heard about that?
“Ehm yeah. He’s pretty private about it.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. He’s been separated a few years now but he just signed the papers a couple weeks ago. I dunno. He gets kinda depressed around this time of year. Probably the weather.”
It was September. It wasn’t the weather.
I had to find him.
I brush past the people I went to school with. I followed Harry outside to a roof 17 years ago and today I follow him out to find him again. We needed to talk.
I look both ways, hoping for a miracle.
I spot a figure slumped on the far end of the road. I recognize the church, it was where we went every Easter and Christmas growing up.
I walk towards the figure until I can make out the hair. It was Harry. Thank god.
“Why’d you leave?” I ask him when he looks up to my approaching footsteps.
“I drank too much,” he hangs his head again. I sit beside him.
“I heard about the divorce. I’m sorry.”
Harry shrugs. “We separated a while ago. It was coming for a long time.”
“Yeah. Still.” I say.
We sit in silence, the only sound is our breathing and the faint noises from the pub down the road.
“She’s in her last year by now.” I say without further explanation. I know he’d know.
“Our baby’s 17.”
Our baby? I feel choked up. All these years we’d been apart, built our own lives, and there was still an our even when there hadn’t been.
“It’s always been us hasn’t it?” Harry says. “Nobody understands.”
“They couldn’t. We were so young, making such a big decision.”
“Oh y/n.” He leans into me and I wrap my arm around his shoulder. He’s cold, his jacket pooled on the steps around him. I gather it to spread over his shoulder but he stops me. “How much heartbreak can you have in one lifetime?”
I sit, aching for the pain Harry was going through. Knowing it was mirrored in me.
“I’ve had enough for a lifetime. I know that.”
“Me too.” Harry sighs. “I miss you.”
“I’m right here.” I intertwine our hands. They still fit the exact same, all these years later. I examine them, but they looked the same too. I wonder if our baby girl ever looked at her hands, wondered who she inherited them from.
“D’you think she thinks about us?” Harry asks what I’m thinking.
“Maybe.” I say. “I like to think so. I just hope she doesn’t hate us for giving her up.”
“Yeah me too I think…” he hangs his head. I hear him sniffle. Seems like Harry hit the point of drinking where all you could feel is regret. I remember those days. I knew where he was.
When he doesn’t finish his sentence I fill the silence; “Me and Tatum split uh…four years ago now.” I update him. “You probably heard something about it. I remember my mum saying she ran into yours when it was happening. They probably talked all about it.”
I wait for Harry to give confirmation but he stays the way he is.
“I went sober a few years before then. Almost ruined our wedding cuz I was exactly where you were. Unprocessed grief and all I could do was drink about it. I’d given up a baby at 18, then lost a baby a decade later. It feels silly to say out loud, that something that never really came into this world—something the size of a fruit could act like the rock you push up the hill every morning. The grief you fight at your darkest times. How could we be haunted by something that didn’t even exist—not technically. But that’s just the way it was. And that’s the way it had to be when we were 18. I’m not always sure I made the right decision overall but I know it was a decision we had to make at the time. I’ve had to find my peace. So do you Harry.”
“Yeah. I-I have to. Y’know? Sometimes I wonder if I would have made her proud.” Harry sniffles. I had similar thoughts. My throat feels tight remembering. “I don’t think, right now, I would be.”
“She’s so loved. She is so loved Harry. Whatever…wherever she is.”
“I love you.” Harry turns to me. His face is raw with grief and emotion. “Never stopped loving you. But I don’t want to give you this version of me.”
“I’ll take any version of you Harry.” I reassure him. “I think we’ve seen too much of each other to be able to hide anything away.”
He tips forward slowly until his head rests on my chest. I hold him there, just like he’d done for me so many years ago. I tell him the type of thing that meant everything to me back then and I hope it helps him to hear it: “We’ll get through this Harry.”
***
“I don’t remember getting here.”
I look up from my book, Harry stands in my kitchen with a confused look on his face. It was weird seeing him here in my flat. But it was so right too.
“We walked home. I thought you sobered up.”
“Nuh-uh.” He takes a few steps towards me, hesitant.
“Coffee?”
“Maybe I’ll take a shower first?”
“First door on your right. Extra towels in the cupboard.”
“Thanks.”
We look at one another for a beat before he moves back. I make another pot of coffee and clean up from breakfast while he showers.
Next time he walks back in he looks a lot better. Smells nice too.
“Black please.” He says when I hold the coffee up.
I pour him a cup and watch him sip it.
“Thank you for last night.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him.
“I remember what you said to me. You’re right of course. I think I knew it, I just didn’t have anyone to talk to about it with. Nobody knew about us…”
“You didn’t have to keep it a secret ‘til this day Harry.” I was surprised he had. “You didn’t even tell any of your friends?”
“The only people who knew were my family, a-and Shan. But. Year after year it didn’t mean the same thing to her. I stopped talking to her about it pretty quickly. Think it made it worse because her and I couldn’t actually…”
“Yeah.” I understood.
“But I realized. I think it was losing both of you. I feel like you were taken away too. We just went from being around each other all the time to cold turkey. That was a loss too so…”
“Yeah.” Again, I understood.
“I’m 35. I’ve gotta…get my head on straight.”
I examine him. “Looks okay to me?”
He smiles and puts his cup down.
“I’m sorry to hear about your divorce.”
“Meh that was years ago. Hard then. Fine now. For the best.”
“I agree,” Harry moves around the table to stand where I am. My heart pulses just like it always does around him. He rests a hand on my hip, dragging it up to wrap around my waist. He must feel how hard my heart’s beating. “Did I tell you? That I love you?”
“Maybe?” I feel myself growing more present. The hole that always lived inside of me growing even smaller in this moment. It allows me to settle on the floor better; less air, more weight.
“Well I do. I love you. At 17, or at 35.” He says this with a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“Well. I love you.” I return the kiss, relish in the way his hand grips my tank. “At 17, or 35.”
“Sometimes I wish I held on tighter at 17. But I look at you now and I’m excited to get to know you again.”
His words pour over me like honey. It was sweet we were still on the same page.
“I’m not letting you go this time.” Harry whispers in my ear. He pulls me in tight, swaying from side to side. “I want to spend 41 and 50 with you. I want all of you, every side.”
“Perfect,” I peer up at him. “That’s exactly what I want too.”
“And maybe one day,” he continues in a hush voice. “We’ll get a call from a young girl. She’ll tell us all about her life in a town up north. About a picture she has of her mother dressed like her father and her father dressed like her mother.”
“She’ll tell us she’s had a good life, and she’s thought about the people in the picture. She’d tell us she wants to meet them.”
“We would be able to show her the love we kept for her. Our love’s like a venn diagram, the bit in the middle is just for her. She’d know why she was born in the first place.”
“Closure,” I whisper to him. “We would know closure.”
I remember the day she was taken, how the loss of not even being able to see her felt bigger than the loss of her itself back then.
I think of a 17 year old girl, with green eyes and brown hair. With my smile and Harry’s dimples. My hands, and Harry’s height. She was loved by people, families, that she didn’t even know existed yet.
They say if you love something, let it go. If it’s meant to be it’ll come back.
As Harry and I stay intertwined in the kitchen of my flat, I send out a wish into the universe for her like I did most days. That she was healthy, happy, and one day curious enough to seek us out. That one day, she would come back.
Right now I focus on the man in my arms. The one I never thought I’d get to hold again. For now this was all I needed. I’d loved him, let him go, and after so many years apart, we were back.
#harry styles fic#writingsfromhome#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#fic#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry stylesxreader#read with caution#sad but hopeful#kinda nervous to post#this fic is qd
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hello!!! this is my submission for the @1dffchallenges quarantine challenge. here’s 4.3k words of fluff on you and Harry in an established relationship, quarantining together in his cafe. featuring Valentine’s Day lattes in March, neon green crocs, and a proposal or two.
A smile curved your lips involuntarily as you walked into the cafe, breathing in the rich scent of coffee and sighing in the warm air. You shrugged off your coat, folding it over your arm and hovering around the edge of the cafe for a moment.
It was just after lunch and the rush was fading. You tried to look nonchalant, letting your gaze drift over the various paintings on the wall, but your eyes kept darting to the cute barista behind the counter.
His name tag said Harry, and his dark curls were hidden under a black cap. Your stomach fluttered every time he met your gaze. You’d been in there countless times, but you swore your heart rushed more each time he looked at you.
Once he finally finished his last order and the line had disappeared, you walked over. He grinned, leaning over the counter. “Well, hello, there,” he greeted you. “Hello,” you said back, smiling up at him coyly.
“What can I getcha?” he asked, and you hummed, looking at the menu behind him. “How about… hm. How about, surprise me?” He raised a brow, shifting forward, and said, “How about… a kiss?” He pursed his lips and closed his eyes, making kissy noises.
You giggled, shaking your head but kissing him anyway. “This friendly to all of your customers, are you?” you asked, walking around the counter. “Only the ones I date,” Harry replied, starting on your latte.
“Yeah?” you said. “And how many is that?”
Harry winked. “Don’t worry, love, you’re my favorite.”
“You flatter me,” you laughed, hopping up on the counter and swinging your legs. Kissing you again as he walked past to grab something next to you, Harry said, “My soul purpose in life,” and you snickered. “What a sad fate.”
Harry shrugged, nudging your leg. “I’ve learned to enjoy it.”
“Impressive,” you said, taking the cup as he handed it to you. “A Valentine’s Day Latte,” he said, and you frowned. “It’s March, H.” He smirked. “And?” You laughed, and took a sip, and he raised a brow. “Yay or nay?” You tilted your head from side to side, taking another sip before nodding your head. “Yay,” you decided, and he pumped his fist. “Success!”
“Very Valentiney,” you laughed, and he shrugged, leaning back on the counter behind him. “That was the intention,” he told you. You peered into the glass, watching the rose petals float around in the pink colored coffee. “And pink,” you added.
“Got something against pink, hm?”
“Of course not!” you exclaimed. “Only makes it better!”
Harry grinned. “Wicked.”
There was a beat of silence, and you sighed, your smile fading a bit as you swung your legs. “So I just came from Niall’s…” Harry nodded and crossed his arms across his chest. “Right. How’s the pub doing, then?” he asked, and you shrugged. “Eh. He was telling me about closing for COVID.”
Harry bit his lip, looking at the ground. “Right… I’ve been thinking about that…”
“The website’s up, right?” you asked.
“Yeah, but… I don’t think…” He sighed, shaking his head.
“We could do deliveries,” you said, cracking a smile. “Get a few bikes.”
“Get a tandem,” Harry replied. “Go together.”
You shrugged. “Or I could ride on your shoulders.”
“Do it on a unicycle. Charge extra for entertainment.”
“And get a monkey. Make it worth their money.”
Harry laughed, shaking his head again and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know what we’re going to do.” You sighed, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. “We’ll be alright.”
He shrugged, putting his hand on top of yours and squeezing back. “Yeah.”
***
To be completely honest, you were nervous.
It was a few days later, and the cafe was (temporarily) closed, and Harry had sent you a text. Cafe in ten, it had said, and that was it. You saw Harry on the counter through the glass walls as you walked towards the cafe, hunched over his phone. The sign was flipped to Closed on the door, but it was unlocked, so you walked in.
“Hey,” you said, and he looked up with a grin.
“Hey!” he said.
You raised a brow, watching him hop up excitedly and shove his hands in his pockets.
“Right,” he went on, looking a little more nervous than you felt as he walked over to you and grabbed your hands. “Right,” he said again, “well, I have a question.” You laughed, nervously, and said, “You’re worrying me, H.”
He bit his lip, holding back a smile. He stepped back, and shoved his hands in his pockets again, and then pulled something out. It was a little black box, and your heart stopped when you realized what it was.
A ring box.
And then, he got down on one knee, and your hand flew to your mouth as you stepped backwards. You loved him - of course you did - but you’d barely been dating a few months. You hadn’t even moved in together. It was way too soon for this.
You began, “Harry -” but he cut you off, saying your name quietly as a smile tugged at his lips. “Will you make me the happiest man on earth…” He opened the box, so slowly, and despite yourself, you were curious about the ring he picked, and then -
Your heart dropped back down to your chest from your throat.
It was a key.
You caught your breath, laughing in surprise as you buried your face in your hands.
“... and quarantine with me?”
“You fucking bastard,” you laughed, catching your breath and shaking your head. “I was getting ready to reject you, you fucking moron!” Harry smiled, so smug, and raised a brow. “And? Is it still a rejection?”
“Of course not,” you breathed, still giggling as he stood up and you wrapped him in a hug. “Of course I’ll quarantine with you, idiot.” Harry laughed, kissing you gently but murmuring, “Somehow the insults don’t seem like a good beginning.”
“Jesus Christ, we’ll kill each other,” you said with a grin.
“And live happily ever after as ghosts.”
“Whoever takes over the cafe will be haunted out of their minds.”
Harry smirked. “Damn right.”
***
Harry pouted, leaning into you. “One more.”
“You said that ten minutes ago.”
“But it’s so… hard,” Harry whined, kissing you again.
You smirked. “Hard, huh?”
“You’re not making this any easier,” Harry mumbled, glaring at your outstretched hand but then groaning and pulling himself up when you just walked away. “You’re a bloody tease,” he complained, following you down the steps.
“And you’re bloody lazy.”
“Maybe we should camp out in the cafe,” Harry said. “‘s empty anyway.”
“Yeah, right,” you replied as you reached your car. “Neither of us could handle that - you look like you helped Frankenstein reanimate his monster with that posture, and sleeping on the ground would not help.”
Harry scoffed, swatting at your shoulder as you grabbed a box. “If my back’s that bad, maybe I shouldn’t be carrying your entire apartment in a box, hm? Ever think about that?” He grabbed a box anyway, and you laughed, kicking the door open for him with your foot.
“It’s a sign of how much you love, me, H, and it is not my entire apartment.”
“Might as well be,” Harry grumbled, huffing exaggeratedly as you reached the top of the stairs. Living directly above the cafe was incredibly convenient, you were learning, in all times except moving. Then the two flights of stairs were just torturous.
Despite that, you’d made your way through almost all of your belongings - which really wasn’t that much, Harry was just being dramatic - and only had a few more boxes to go. If you’d keep moving, it’d probably take less than an hour, but…
“We deserve a break,” Harry declared, plopping down on the sofa again.
“H, we just -”
“Pretty please?” Harry said, giving you puppy dog eyes.
“It’s gonna take -”
“Pleeasse?”
Finally you sighed, curling up next to him. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you murmured after a second, and he shrugged, kissing your forehead. “I can.” You smiled, looking up at him, and said, “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, and he kissed you. You sighed, leaning into him. “Maybe we can get the rest of them tomorrow,” you mumbled, kissing him back. You shifted around to settle on his lap, and you felt him grin against your lips.
“Your first good idea of the day,” he said happily.
***
It only took a few days to fall into a routine.
It wasn’t a very productive routine, but it was a routine nonetheless.
Mornings were leisurely, spent in bed whispering nonsense under the covers or sharing lazy kisses. Lunches were ordered or made in the kitchen, fumbling over recipes and making a mess. Nights were the most action of the day, which was mostly just popcorn fights and giggly somersault competitions around the floor in front of the TV.
You probably made it through every single show of interest on Netflix, plus every single romantic comedy on the face of the earth. TV show reactions varied. Sometimes they’d keep you quiet, entranced in the worlds they created, and other times they were too ridiculous and far fetched to be believed and the dialogue would get lost in your laughter. Rom-coms tended to be a mix of gushing tears and snickered comments under your breaths.
You made competitions out of memorization, attempting to recreate the sword fights in the Princess Bride with chopsticks as you danced around his apartment and singing over each other as you rapped lines from Hamilton.
So really, you thought, listening to Harry snore with a smile, overall, not too bad.
***
“Pink walls,” you said, “with green trim and orange polka dots.”
Harry shook his head. “All green. Plus mustard yellow.”
“And orange polka dots.”
“Pink polka dots.”
“Fine. And blue stripes.”
Harry snickered, leaning forward off the back wall of the cafe and propping his chin on his fist. “We’ll give them a headache so they’ll get coffee just to stop the pain.” You nodded. “That’s the plan,” you agreed, and Harry raised a brow, turning his head to look at you. “The plan, hm? I thought that was just your atrocious eye for color.”
You scoffed. “You’re one to talk, mister neon green crocs.”
“That was one time.”
“One time too many.”
Harry sighed, shaking his head. “I’d paint the whole place that same shade of neon green just for something to do.” You bit your lip, then stood up, dusting your hands on your pants. “Let’s… let’s dance.”
Harry just stared at you.
“C’mon,” you said, a smile growing on your lips as you held out your hand.
More staring.
“Harry,” you whined, giving him puppy dog eyes. “Please?”
“We don’t have music,” he said.
“We have our phones!”
“Mine’s dead.”
You grinned, pulling yours out of your pocket. “Mine’s not. We can slow dance to… uhhh… to Etta James.” Harry groaned, leaning back against the wall. “I have no energy. We should sleep.”
“It’s eleven.”
Harry laughed. “Yeah,” he said, “it’s eleven.”
“C’mon, old man,” you replied, plugging your phone in and starting a song.
I Wanna Dance with Somebody started playing, and you held out your hands as you sang to him, “Clock strikes… upon the hour… and the sun begins to fade!” Harry laughed again, sliding down to the floor and watching as you pranced around the empty cafe.
“This is hardly Etta James, love.”
“Well, I’m hardly slow dancing by myself…” You raised a brow, holding out your hand again. “Unless…?” Harry grinned, shaking his head. “Oh, no,” he said, “I’m quite enjoying the show. I’d hate for you to stop on my account…”
He finally got up when the chorus hit, and you squealed in excitement. You pulled him around with you, laughing when he attempted a few moves and then encouraging him when he pouted at your mockery.
You saw him biting back a smile, and you couldn’t help but kiss him when he spun you around and dipped you low as the song ended. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” Harry said, grinning against your lips.
You grinned right back, pressing closer. “And what a wonderful way to go.”
“You know,” Harry began after a beat, “after all that dancing -”
“- it was one song -”
“- I don’t know if I can walk back up all those steps.”
You smirked, leaning into him and sliding kisses against his jawline. “You know… the one place we haven’t quite broken in yet…” Harry laughed. “Hardly sanitary, what you’re implying, you know…”
“We’re good cleaners,” you murmured.
His fingers slid your sleeve off your shoulder. “And we do need something to do…”
“Really doesn’t make any sense to go back upstairs,” you whispered.
“No sense,” Harry agreed with a grin. “None at all.”
***
“What if,” Harry mumbled the next morning, waking you up with soft kisses against your cheeks, “I left you… to go be a part… of the next Frankenstein remake...” You giggled, nosing into his shoulder. “Is it really that bad?” He pouted at you miserably. “Worse.”
You grinned, rolling over. “What’s the assistant guy’s name?” you asked. “Igor?”
“No idea,” Harry sighed. “We gotta watch that movie again.”
“Maybe you’ll find out when you audition for the part.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Harry groaned as he sat up and cracked his back.
“You sound like an eighty year old,” you laughed.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much.”
“At least there’s coffee right there,” you said, sitting up and grabbing Harry’s discarded shirt as he pulled on his boxers. “And food…” Harry yawned, stretching his arms towards the ceiling. “We should learn French,” he said as he opened the mini fridge under the counter.
“French, huh?”
“Or Italian.”
You shrugged. “Or Spanish.”
“Or Spanish,” Harry agreed, cracking an egg into a bowl. “Or Arabic.”
“Mandarin.”
“Gaelic.”
“Czech.”
“Russian.”
“Urdu.”
Harry smiled, whisking the eggs. “All of ‘em.”
“We’ve got time.”
“Wanna help out, lazy bum?” Harry asked, spraying a pan with oil with a teasing smile on his lips. “Or should I do all of this myself?” You grinned, replying, “It’s good practice for your role as an assistant,” but standing up and popping bread in the toaster anyway.
“Think Frankenstein ate eggs?”
“Wonder if he had chickens,” you said.
Harry grimaced. “Probably had a few zombie ones.”
“Think their eggs taste better or worse?”
“Oh, better, definitely - they’re just green,” Harry said seriously, and you laughed as you slid the toast out of the toaster and onto a plate “Want some zombie eggs and ham, Sir Sam?” you asked, grabbing utensils.
“But I don’t like zombie eggs and ham,” Harry said with a pout, coming around to sit next to you at the counter. You raised a brow, crunching on some toast. “What happened to ‘better,’ huh?”
“Right, well, that’s my opinion,” Harry replied as he scooped some eggs. “I’m sure Sir Sam -” He frowned, pausing. “Wait, ‘sir’? He’s not a… he’s a knight?” You snorted, shaking your head. “I have no idea, babe.”
Harry tsked, giving you a disappointed look. “You should really be more knowledgeable about the classics,” he chastised. You raised a brow. “Classics, huh?” Harry grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely.”
You smiled despite yourself, nudging his shoulder. “Okay, Dr. Seuss, whatever you say.”
***
You woke up in front of the TV, yawning as you sat up.
The end credits of some movie were rolling on screen. It was a film, all in French, that you had, apparently, fallen asleep in front of. Harry was asleep too, curled behind you on the couch.
The two of you had been going through movies in foreign languages for the past few weeks, and they hadn’t actually been that bad. A few of them were mildly interesting, a few downright boring, and a few, like this one, so tiresome that you’d both fallen asleep about halfway through.
You started cleaning up, grabbing the empty popcorn bowl from the coffee table and walking into the kitchen to slide it onto the counter. When you walked back in, remote in hand to shut off the TV, Harry was awake and yawning.
“Riveting film, hm?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.
“Oui, oui,” you agreed, sitting down next to him again. “What time is it?” Harry asked, fumbling for his phone. You glanced at the clock, beating him to it, and said, “Ten. We should do something.”
“Let’s go to France,” Harry suggested, stretching out on the couch. “Buy some wine.”
“Or a vineyard.”
“Or both.”
You sighed, laying back against him and watching the ceiling fan. “Imagine quarantining in France. Or Italy, or something. On a vineyard.” Harry nodded. “Would certainly be easier to learn another language, yeah?”
“We’d be drunk half the time,” you mused.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
You smiled, and you turned to look at him in the dim lighting. “Can you imagine? Frolicking around all day in our two hundred acres, half drunk?” Harry smiled back, shifting you slightly so he could sit up next to you. “Sounds like heaven.”
“I don’t know about the two hundred acres part,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him, “but we could certainly do the half drunk part…” Harry shook his head, grinning against your lips. “Sorry, love, I don’t do anything half arsed.”
“Oh, my mistake,” you giggled, kissing him once more before standing up.
“Don’t bother with the glasses,” Harry called once you were in the kitchen.
“What are we, barbarians?” you laughed, and Harry shook his head. “No, darling, just incredibly lazy. Don’t feel like washing dishes…” You came back in, handing him the bottle of wine, and then looked around, biting your lip.
Harry took a sip, watching you, and then grumbled, “Oh, no.” You smiled, glancing at him inquisitively. “What’s wrong?” Harry sighed, looking at the wine mournfully. “You have your thinking face on,” he sighed, “which means we’re going to do something, and this bottle will be woefully full by the end of the night.”
“You’re too dramatic for your own good,” you laughed.
Harry looked up, smiling again. “And you’re not nearly dramatic enough.”
“We make a good pair.”
“That we do,” Harry agreed, standing up as he stretched his arms towards the ceiling. There was a beat of silence, and then Harry raised a brow, nudging your leg. “C’mon, then, out with it, what’s the idea?”
You grinned at him. “Cookies,” you declared.
“Cookies?” Harry echoed skeptically.
“Cookies.”
“Too far away,” Harry said conclusively, plopping back onto the couch.
“On the contrary!” you exclaimed, pulling him back up. “We’ll make them ourselves,” you said, and then laughed at the expression of horror on Harry’s face. “My dear rose petal,” he said, holding your hand gently in his, “my gorgeous honey pot. We are not making cookies.”
You scoffed. “Why not?”
Harry pouted, holding up the wine. “Because relaxation.”
“How about… relaxation… and cookies?” you asked, taking the wine bottle from him. He gasped indignantly and reached for it, and you giggled, backing up into the kitchen as he followed you.
“You clever minx,” Harry mumbled once you finally stopped, leaning into you and pressing kisses against your lips with a grin. After a second, you pulled away, smiling when he chased after you. “Cookies?” you asked, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.
Harry sighed dramatically. “Cookies,” he relented.
You shouted in victory and started rooting through the cabinets. Your favorite song came on after a moment, and Harry winked at you, coming around to help grab supplies. The two of you shouted along to the lyrics, spilling things as you measured and poured and scooped.
It was a game of theft once the dough was mixed, stealing pinches while his back was turned and playfully slapping his hand when you caught him doing the same. Thankfully, you still had a decent sized batch when you slid the tray into the oven.
Then you both stumbled back into the other room, and collapsed onto the couch. “We should have put wine in the cookies,” you murmured into Harry’s shoulder. Harry snickered, and then said, “That’s a grape idea…”
You blinked. “What?”
Harry giggled, nudging you. “Grape? Like, great? Because - wine?”
“Jesus fucking -”
Harry cut you off with a kiss, and you laughed despite yourself, leaning into him and letting yourself get carried away. His hands drifted, shifting you onto his lap, and your hands slid into his hair, messing with the curls at the nape of his neck.
It could have been seconds, or maybe hours, before you came up for air, breathless and red cheeked and way too hot and bothered for just a simple make out session. “You’re being a bit mean,” Harry whispered, and you raised a brow. “Am I, now?”
Harry nodded, feathering kisses down your jawline and behind your ear. “Too many clothes. ‘s quite rude, actually.” You giggled, leaning into him, slipping your hands out of your sweater, and then frowned.
Was something… burning?
“Shit!” you exclaimed, jumping off of him, and Harry gasped, reaching after you. You pulled yourself together, sprinting to the kitchen, shouting, “The fucking - the cookies!” Harry groaned, walking in after you.
They were burnt.
Well and truly burnt.
Harry came and stood next to you, gazing at the charred lumps of dough with a deep frown. “Fucking cock block,” he muttered, and you looked up at him, and then burst out laughing.
After a second, he sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “This went well, didn’t it?” he said. “Oh, wonderfully,” you agreed, and you shut the oven door. “Say, Styles,” you said, turning to face him, “ever heard of Postmates?”
“Why, no, I haven’t!” Harry replied with a grin. “You’ll have to show me!”
You nodded, pulling out your phone. “I guess I will!”
***
Between a few more cookie-baking-attempts, even more cookie deliveries, a couple more foreign-language films, twice that amount of romantic comedies, and even one or two morning jogs, quarantine dragged on as quickly as it probably could. Neither of you were sure how long it was going to last, nobody was, but you were constantly reminded of how happy you were Harry had asked you to quarantine with you all those months ago.
In fact, you were being reminded of it at this very instant, because you’d woken up to an empty bed and a sticky note signed by Harry with only the words, In the cafe, scrawled in green ink. A bit nervous, you got up, and got ready, and then headed down the steps.
The deja vu was unreal - he was sitting on the counter, hunched over his phone, swinging his legs. “H?” you said softly, and the deja vu continued. He jumped up, hands shoving into his pockets, a stupid grin on his face. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” you said back. “What’s up?”
“I, er - I wanted to ask you something,” he said, and you grinned, coming around to stand in front of him. “You’re making me nervous,” you replied, and he bit his lip, fiddling with his pocket again.
“Right,” he said, holding back a smile. “Right, well, quarantine has been fun, yeah?”
You raised a brow. Slowly, you agreed, “Yeah…”
“Well, I, erm - I was just thinking…” He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “I was just thinking that I wouldn’t mind quarantining with you my entire life.” You laughed a bit. “I dunno about that,” you joked, and he flushed, shaking his head.
“I mean - I mean, of course not - obviously, the pandemic, I just - I meant -”
“Harry,” you interrupted softly.
“Sorry,” he murmured, smiling again. “Well, I have a question.”
“So you keep saying.”
He laughed, finally pulling his hand out of his pocket. But somehow, you almost weren’t surprised when it was a ring box. You grinned, glancing at it and then back at Harry but keeping quiet as he knelt down on one knee.
“You know,” he said, and all you could think was how much he was dragging this out, “they say you’re supposed to get down on one knee because of some old Norse tradition. Apparently, getting married is like taking an arrow to the knee and, erm - and, well, you know, falling onto one knee...” He dropped down to both knees, and you raised an eyebrow. “... but I’m getting down on both, because I’ve fallen… completely… for you.”
Before you could roll your eyes, he opened the box.
And this time, there was a ring inside.
“Oh my god,” you breathed.
“Well?”
“I thought - I don’t - this is like - but I thought -”
Harry laughed, leaning forward. “Christ, the suspense is killing me, woman!”
“Yes!” you gasped, letting him slide the ring onto your finger. “Shit, Harry, yes! Yes, of course!” He stood up, kissing you deeply, and you laughed against his lips. “Jesus, I thought… I don’t know what I thought - I just -”
Harry cut you off with a grin. “Shush,” he murmured.
You giggled, kissing him again, and then pulled back, letting your forehead rest against his. “Harry?” you said softly. He smiled, stealing one more kiss, and then said, “Yeah?” You grinned. “That Norse mythology thing isn’t true,” you whispered.
“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned, laughing as he stepped away and shook his head.
“Hey,” you said, pulling his back. “Hey, hey…”
He shook his head again, still grinning. “Yeah?”
“I love you,” you said.
Harry sighed, rolling his eyes and mocking nonchalance. He nudged your shoulder, kissed you, smiled. “I mean… I guess I love you, too… Even if the legend isn’t true… I don’t know if I’ve fallen completely for you, though…”
“Oh, shut up!”
Harry smiled, and kissed you. “If you insist.”
***
and there you have it!!! really hope you enjoyed! and if you did, a reblog or some feedback would be very much appreciated. thanks for reading!
masterlist | ask
#1dffquarantine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles fic#harry styles#harry stylesxreader#harry stylesxyou#harry stylesxy/n#harry styles writing#harry styles au#harry styles story
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just wanted to share.
#bts scenarios#travel#min yoongi#bts x reader#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#park jimin#bangtansonyeondan#bangtan#bon voyage#harry styles#harry styles imagine#fine line#harry stylesxreader#harry
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hi! i just finished reading Help Wanted, and i really enjoyed it! it’s really well written and has a great plot! i was wondering, are there going to be any more parts? if so, could you say when? no pressure, though! please do take your time!
I have the full book finished on my Wattpad! @stylesxreads I have some bonus chapters/one shots planned out but haven’t had the time to write them!! I also have two other Harry books in progress right now called Runaway and Despondent if you want to check those out!:) thanks for your support!! It means so much to me!
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Fat Girl Worries (Harry StylesxReader) Part One
Pairing : Original Character x Harry Styles
CHAPTER ONE
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
WARNING!!!!!!!!
THIS STORY DOES CONTAIN SEX, VIOLENCE, SELF HARM AND BAD LANGUAGE.
TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!
AND I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL WRITER.
MY FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T ENGLISH SO SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMAR, SPELLING ERRORS.
------
"Could you pass me the sugar?" My mom asked, I reached over Harry's plate and grabbed it, handing it to her. "That's extremely rude." Harry mumbled as he took one of his earphones out. "Maybe if you took that out for once you would hear people asking you to pass the sugar." Harry rolled his eyes. "I would rather listen to music than hear your irritating voice."
"Stop it, both of you." Anne said. I sat back in my chair and poked my fork into the over cooked eggs. "You should eat your breakfast, Skylar." I shot a glance at my mom. "I'm not hungry." I mumbled. I heard my mom sigh. "I am not gonna go through this again." I shrunk in my chair and started chewing on my thumb nail, a habit that I am yet to change. "Go through what again?" Anne asked.
My mom recently discovered that she is into woman, ironically just as my dad cheated on her and left her for the new, younger girl. She met Anne on an internet site, they Skyped a few times and then my mom decided that it would be best for us to move to a new place, new environment and new family. I went crazy, I mean you can't move in with someone you barely know, but we did. It's been two weeks and I'm hating it.
"None of your business." I mumbled and stuffed a fork piled with eggs into my mouth. "Skylar!" My mom moaned, Anne smiled. "It's okay Lena, I understand." She had a frown on her face as she looked down. I glanced over to see if Harry had his earphones in again, and he did, slowly bobbing his head to the music.
"I had an eating disorder, okay?" Anne looked at me shocked, then stared at my mom. I was use to the stares though. People looking at me like that. "I'm-I- really I" I cut her off by pushing my chair out. "May I be excused?" I asked softly, "And don't worry, I've heard it all, you don't have to think of anything to say about how bad you feel for me and shit like that." My mom shot me another glare. "Language Skylar." I ignored her.
"May I be excused or not?" My mom just nodded her head and waved me away with a single movement of her hand. My mom and I never had a good relationship, it was my dad and I who always got along better than anyone. He's my best friend.
---
I moved up the stairs and turned into the first door on the left, I closed my door and slowly started getting dressed. School starts next week and honestly; I'm shitting myself. I grabbed my camera and a pair of shoes and walked down the stairs, moving past the living room and out of the front door. My mom didn't even bother to ask where I'm going. Not that she is interested.
---
I smiled as I took in the beautiful surroundings. I loved the ocean, this was probably the only good thing to come out of the big move, was that we were literally 10 minutes away from the beach. There weren't many people out today. Only a group of teenagers who were a few miles away and two or three elderly couples who were plopped down in their small beach fold up chairs, wearing a huge amount of sunscreen and floppy bit straw hats. I grabbed my camera and snapped a few photos of the couple who were closest to me, the old man saw me and frowned, probably thinking who is this odd girl taking photos of my wife and I? I shot him a small smile then moved forward, sinking my toes into the warm sand.
"Hey buddy." I mumbled as I bent down and took a shot of a little crab baking in the sun. It took me a full ten minutes to realize it was dead which made me feel uncomfortable taking photos of it, felt like I was in an FBI movie. I was the sick killer who took photos of animals before and after I killed them. I pulled myself out of the freaky side of my mind and questioned my sanity for a few seconds as I walked further down the beach.
I spotted a dog running into the ocean and jumping over the waves, going crazy and trying to bite into the white foam that formed into of the tiny waves. Of course I switched my camera on as fast as I could and started taking photos of him. "You're going to have to pay to take photos of my dog." Someone said, I jerked away and a small weird noise escaped my mouth. The guy next to me started laughing as he raised his hands. "I am so sorry, I did not mean to frighten you." I stared at him for a little longer as I calmed down. He had a sweet face and soft eyes. I decided I liked him.
"You did not scare me." I simply stated. He laughed again. "Oh really, then what was that noise you made?" I glanced at him and grinned, "That is just how we great each other where I'm from." he laughed again. "I'm sure." I laughed with him. "It's true, I'm not lying." just as I said that the dog came running over to us. "Hey girl, or boy." I said as I sat down and the dog jumped on my lap. "Did you just assumed my gender?" I said in an Australian accent. "What was that?" The guy asked as he sat down next to me, cracking up again. "My best impression of your dog." "Why would you think she's Australian?" He laughed again and I joined. "I don't know actually." she jumped off of my lap and back into the water, leaving a big wet stain on my jeans. "I hope that's not pee." I mumbled as I rubbed the big spot.
"I'm Louis." He said and stuck his hand out to me, "Skylar, but you can call me Lar." He frowned, but he had a smile stuck on his mouth. "Why Lar?" he asked as I shook his hand and I smiled back, "Guess I'm just getting sick of people calling me Sky." I shrugged. "Well Lar, it's a pleasure to meet you. It's nice to see a friendly face for a change." "You can call me Sky, I was only joki-"
"Hey look who crawled out of his fag hole!" Someone yelled, interrupting me. Both Louis and I looked to our left. I saw a group of teens walking over to us, I frowned and looked at Louis, he was staring down. "Were they talking to you?" I whispered, not knowing why I was whispering. "What? Did you leave the guys now for fat girls?" I immediately looked down and turned red when I heard the word fat. "Fuck off, Cindy." Louis said. "Excuse me?" I recognized that voice.
#harry styles#plus size#chubby reader#fat reader#sexy#fluffy#smut#school#bully#one direction#styles#harry styles smut#sexy harry#original female character#ofcxharrystyles
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Dos and Don’ts IV
A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3
Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
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We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.
Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.
With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.
The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.
“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”
I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.
“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.
“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”
“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“
“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”
“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”
“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”
“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”
“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.
“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”
The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.
“Thanks,” I say through tears.
And the girls hold me to their promise.
After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.
We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.
Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.
As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.
The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.
We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.
“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.
Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”
I shake my head no.
“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.
I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.
We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.
The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.
“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.
“Hey!” I shout back.
“Que pasa?”
“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.
He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.
The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.
He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”
“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”
“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.
I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.
He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.
I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.
When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.
When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.
I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.
It ends in a split second.
“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.
“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.
“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.
Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.
“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.
“Y/n what are you doing out there?”
“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”
He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.
Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”
“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”
“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”
“Whatever I’m over this convo.”
I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.
“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”
“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”
“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”
“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” He insists.
“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”
“It’s for your own good!”
He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.
Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.
“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.
With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.
But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”
I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.
I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.
Hypocrite.
I drop my hand.
“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”
I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.
I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.
I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.
“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”
My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.
I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.
“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”
“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”
“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”
It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.
“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”
“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“
“It’s night.”
“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”
“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”
I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.
I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.
I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.
I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.
On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.
Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.
“Hi I need a room.” I say.
“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”
I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.
“Just a night. I need your best room please.”
“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”
“The best room will do. Preferably large.”
“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”
I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.
“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”
“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.
“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”
I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.
“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.
“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”
They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.
The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.
The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.
I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.
“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”
“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”
We stare at each other for a tense moment.
“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”
After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.
He chooses to ignore me.
“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“
His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.
I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.
“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.
I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.
“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”
He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.
“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”
“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”
“Do you always have to be so snarky?”
Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.
“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”
“It’s really quite unbecoming.”
“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”
“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.
“I never let anything go?” I repeat.
“Yeah! Ever!”
“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.
“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”
“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”
“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”
“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”
With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.
“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.
“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”
“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”
“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”
“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”
“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“
“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.
“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”
“What did I say?”
“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.
“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”
“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“
“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”
“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”
“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”
“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”
“Then quit!”
“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.
“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”
“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”
“Whatever y/n.”
“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”
“What? I told you I was looking out-“
“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”
I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.
“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“
“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”
Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.
“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”
“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”
“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”
His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.
“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!
When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.
But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.
He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.
My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.
Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.
“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.
In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.
Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.
"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.
"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.
He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.
He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.
I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”
“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”
His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.
“D’you really hate me?” He asks.
“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.
He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.
“Do you hate me?” He asks again.
“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.
“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.
The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.
Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.
“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.
“Okay?” He asks low.
I nod, grateful that he was taking over.
And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.
After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.
His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.
And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.
His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.
“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.
I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.
I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.
I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.
My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.
I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.
The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.
I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.
***
We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.
I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.
London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.
I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.
These thoughts kept me preoccupied.
It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.
It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.
I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.
When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.
Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.
I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.
“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.
“So,” I echo.
We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.
“We should sit?”
“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”
I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”
“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”
“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”
Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.
Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.
“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”
He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”
I nod. Not sure what to say to that.
“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.
“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”
“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”
“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”
I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.
I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.
On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.
Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.
I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.
I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.
“Mr. Styles?”
“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.
“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”
The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.
“What is that?”
“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.
His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.
“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.
I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”
His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.
“Is this a joke?”
“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”
“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.
“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”
By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.
“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”
“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.
He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.
I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,
“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”
He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.
He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.
When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”
Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.
“Uh y/n please come i-“
“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.
For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.
I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.
Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.
“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.
When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.
“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.
“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”
“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”
“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“
“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.
“We dealt with that article.”
Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.
“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”
“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”
Shit. “Um. Burnout?”
The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.
“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”
He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?
“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.
“Tomorrow?”
“Mhm.”
“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”
He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.
When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.
“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.
“Sure,” I reply.
“Is it because of that night?”
It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.
Wait, he wanted an answer.
“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.
He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.
***
Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”
Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”
“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”
This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.
“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”
Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”
“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.
“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.
“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”
I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”
We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.
I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.
We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.
He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.
And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.
Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.
At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.
The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.
“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”
Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.
Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.
“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.
“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”
We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.
We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.
I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.
***
Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.
Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.
The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.
I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.
We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.
I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.
On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.
I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.
“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”
“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”
Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”
He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.
Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.
“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.
“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.
I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.
My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.
I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.
I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.
I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.
The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.
••••••••••••••••••••
Present (2 years on):
My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.
Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.
Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.
“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.
“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”
I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”
“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.
“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”
“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.
“Of course I do.”
“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”
I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.
“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.
“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“
“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”
Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”
He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”
I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.
Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.
“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”
“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“
“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“
“You seemed to have.”
His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.
“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”
The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.
I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.
I’d rather van gogh my ear.
I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.
“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.
“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.
He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.
“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.
“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”
“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.
“Never ends well,” I eye the door.
“Just as stubborn as I remember.”
“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.
He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”
I shake my head. He should know that by now.
“Can I walk you out at least?”
I shrug, couldn’t hurt.
“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.
“What?”
“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”
“I thought we could be friendly exes.”
And when did he get so cheeky.
“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”
“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”
“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”
“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”
“Nooo. You’re being weird.”
"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."
I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.
Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.
“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.
“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.
“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”
“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.
“How do you like that?”
“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.
But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.
“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”
My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.
And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.
We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.
“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.
“I didn’t know. Sorry.”
“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”
He huffs an awkward laugh.
“Anyway this is me—
“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.
We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.
“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”
“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”
“A few weeks,” I reply.
He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?
“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.
His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?
“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.
“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”
“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“
“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”
Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.
“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”
This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.
“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.
“Right.” I choke out.
He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”
I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”
Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”
I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.
“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.
On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.
Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.
***
Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.
Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.
When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.
I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.
I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.
“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.
“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”
We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.
“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”
“No,” I laugh.
“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.
“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”
“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”
“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”
“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”
“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.
“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”
“Yes!”
“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.
“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”
“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.
“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”
“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“
“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.
“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.
“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“
“Y/N?”
Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.
She didn’t tell him.
“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.
“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”
It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.
It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.
What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.
These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.
“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.
Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.
“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”
She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.
“I am really sorry,” she whispers.
“Hey it’s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”
“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”
I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.
I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.
“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”
“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”
“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.
“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”
“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”
“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”
“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.
With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.
“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“
We stop and chuckle awkwardly.
“Sorry,” I shake my head.
“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”
“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”
“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”
I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”
“Fair. How’s America?”
“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”
“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.
He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.
“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”
“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.
“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”
We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.
It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.
“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”
“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.
“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”
Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.
“Who?”
That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.
“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”
“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.
But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.
“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.
“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”
They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.
“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.
“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.
“No it’s ok!”
“I don’t know why she acted like that-“
“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“
“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”
It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.
Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.
I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.
So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.
“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”
Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”
“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”
“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”
“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”
Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.
I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.
Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.
I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.
I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.
I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.
My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.
I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.
He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??
I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.
Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?
Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.
I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.
Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.
I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.
***
I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.
“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.
“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.
We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.
“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”
Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.
“Josie,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”
“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.
“Stop apologizing.”
“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”
We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”
Famous last words.
It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.
I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.
“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.
“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.
I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.
Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.
By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.
As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.
“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“
“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”
Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.
“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”
“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”
She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.
And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.
We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.
She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?
“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”
“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”
“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”
“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”
“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”
“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”
“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.
“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.
I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.
As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.
“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”
“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”
What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.
“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”
“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”
“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”
“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.
“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”
I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.
“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”
“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.
But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.
“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”
I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.
“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”
I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.
“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”
“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.
My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.
“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”
“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.
I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.
I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.
Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.
Now it was just a hand.
I clasp it and he squeezes.
“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.
I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.
Too much was happening at once.
My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.
I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?
His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night
I smile, despite myself.
Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.
H: For drinks?
Y: For drinks
H: Ofc.
***
The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.
For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.
I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.
I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.
“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.
“I did.”
I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.
He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.
His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.
The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.
I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.
My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.
But I am so tired.
I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.
“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.
I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.
"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.
I shake my head.
He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."
"I think I-“
“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”
I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.
He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.
“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.
“Then where?” He plays along.
“Anywhere but there.”
He kisses my nose. “There?”
“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”
He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”
But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.
With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.
“What?” I ask.
“We should take that drink first.”
I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.
“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.
He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”
“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”
“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.
“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”
“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Why not?”
“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“
“Just let me talk then.”
“Why does everyone want to talk!”
“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“
“You already did-“
“Properly.”
I cross my arms and sigh.
“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”
“So this isn’t a great thing then.”
“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.
“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.
“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”
“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”
“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?
But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.
“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.
“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.
“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”
“Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”
He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”
“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”
“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”
“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”
“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”
I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?
My heart flutters amongst other things.
I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.
“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“
“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”
“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”
I nod along to his story.
“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”
“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”
“You’re judging me.”
“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.
“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”
He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.
“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”
“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.
“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”
He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”
“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.
“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”
“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”
“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had to be the villain in your story-“
“What?” What was he talking about?
“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”
I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.
“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”
“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.
“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“
“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“
“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”
I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.
Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.
My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.
“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”
“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.
“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“
“You don’t like my sensitivity.”
“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“
“Because of you.”
“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”
“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.
“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“
“It was really a lot of reasons.”
“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”
His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.
“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”
I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.
“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”
“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.
“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”
We smile.
“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”
His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.
I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.
“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”
“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”
“Same.”
His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.
His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.
We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.
“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”
Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.
But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.
“I want to do this.”
With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.
He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.
The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.
The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.
I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.
But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.
He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.
I nod.
He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.
It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.
He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.
He moves up to press his forehead against mine.
"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.
“What do you mean?”
“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“
“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.
"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”
“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”
He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.
I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.
I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.
It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.
"May I?" he looks up.
"Please," I whisper.
For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.
And it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.
“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.
“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.
Love. I brush the word away.
He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.
I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.
Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.
Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.
I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.
On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?
I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.
But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.
Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.
And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.
These people made me so angry.
How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.
I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.
Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.
How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.
Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.
I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.
Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.
I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.
Damn.
What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.
What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?
“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.
“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.
“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”
I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.
“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”
“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.
A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.
Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.
“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.
He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.
Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.
“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.
“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.
“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.
“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”
“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.
“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”
“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”
“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“
“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.
“But-“ he says behind my hand.
“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.
“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”
“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”
“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”
“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”
So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?
***
It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.
But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.
We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.
But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.
Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.
Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.
We still get under each other’s skin.
The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.
I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.
“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.
“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”
“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”
“Coincidence.”
“Liar.”
“I’m an honest man.”
“Truth please?”
“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”
“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”
“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”
“Really? How?”
“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”
He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.
“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”
“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”
“That’s a strong word.” He argues.
“You. Stalked. Me.”
“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.
“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.
“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.
“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.
“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”
“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”
“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”
His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.
“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”
It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”
When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.
We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.
“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”
He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”
I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”
“Whatever,” I say with a smile.
“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”
We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.
“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”
“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”
“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”
He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.
“What?”
“Really? You think it was the artcles?”
“Well what else happened that-“
Oh god. Was I that stupid?
Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.
A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”
“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”
I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?
“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.
“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”
His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.
“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”
His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”
“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“
“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“
“Well you were-“
“Yeah alright-“
“Why did you really pull me away though?”
“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”
“What?”
I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”
My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.
“I was just your assistant though.”
“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”
“Yeah but-“
“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”
I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.
Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.
“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”
“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”
“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”
“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”
Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”
I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”
“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”
I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.
Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.
I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.
I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.
“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”
“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.
There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.
My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.
“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.
“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”
“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”
I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”
“I have a good feeling about it.”
“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”
“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”
I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.
“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”
“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”
“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”
I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.
“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“
“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”
He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.
“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”
“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.
He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.
***
I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.
I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.
I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.
So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.
I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.
I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.
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#writingsfromhome#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#musician!harry#harry styles series#harry stylesxreader#enemies to lovers#dos and don’ts#this is DONE#I HAD THE MOST FUN WRITING THIS I REALLY POURED MY HEART INTO IT#IM SO HAPPY ITS DONE#AHHH#I LOVED WRITING THESE CHARACTERS#EVEN THE FRUSTRATING ONES#fic#<3#i considered an epilogue but firstly not enough space and secondly idk if this open-ish ending suited the series?#if you didn’t like the ending I’m sorry just consider the alternate ending to be right after the grad dinner#but listen distance and experience provides perspective so nobody stay mad#okk byee#love ya
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Things to Learn
Request: hiii idk if youve thought about this but what about a mean girl!yn and nerd!harry high school fic or something like that :))
A/N: it is what the request says, idk if this is exactly what you wanted but writing a mean girl!yn was different for me. I also wrote this from Harry’s third pov so that’s also different lol. Hope you enjoy it? Thanks for the req :) <3
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Harry hated girls like her. Hate was a strong word, he knew that. And he used it still.
He eyes her again as she sits on the lunch table and talks animatedly to her friends about something shallow or irrelevant. He goes back to the sandwich he had for lunch.
“She’s out of your league mate,” Harry’s best friend tells him.
“What?”
“YN? You’re staring at her. She’s out of your league. Like so far that even if you climbed a mountain and looked over everything you wouldn’t be able to see-“
“I got it,” Harry didn’t like her. He knew she was well out of his league and he didn’t care. He had one more year of this shite called high school and then he was off to uni. His sister always told him high school labels didn’t follow you there. “I don’t even like her. I was just looking.”
His friend makes a noise, he didn’t believe him.
“I’m serious. Ms. Easton partnered us in history probably because she’s not doing well. I’ve got the highest grade. But she’s insufferable.”
“You’re insufferable,” his friend shoots back. “If I was partnered with her I’d be shooting my shot. Every chance.”
“I’d rather shoot myself,” Harry mutters. He had history next period and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Their class had booked the library for research period and that meant suffering through it with YN.
He’s first to arrive at the library and books a computer. They were researching the royal family, he didn’t know what angle the paper was going to be from but he would figure it out later. Alone. Because YN was always too busy not giving a shit.
The truth was, he just didn’t understand girls like YN. How they could be so shallow and rude for no reason, he didn’t think the world was rainbows and unicorns but it was decent to just be a little nicer. She was judgemental, loud, and of course attractive as hell. But her personality ruined any good looks in his opinion. So even though he was staring at lunch, he didn’t find her very attractive.
“I guess we’re sitting here,” speak of the devil. Surprisingly YN is here before the bell goes off. She sits in the seat next to Harry and her bag is thrown on the floor.
“Hi to you too,” Harry mutters. He ignores her, continuing to flip through his textbook for the correct chapter.
“Have we decided on a topic?”
Harry grits his teeth. I don’t know YN have we? Instead he says, “No.”
“Oh, well why not just do it on what’s going on right now?”
“Because it’s a history class,” Harry finally look at her. He remembers it was a little nerve wracking to do that when they were first partnered but now his annoyance triumphed any nerves.
“And?” She scrunches her brows. “Isn’t that the point?”
She had no idea what she was talking about. He shakes his head and goes back to his textbook.
“You don’t have to be such a nerd all the time you know that?” She continues.
Harry ignores her.
“Hello?” She snaps her fingers. Who did she think she was?
“Can we just work?” Harry couldn’t stand her.
The bell rings. YN picks up her phone in a huff and Harry goes back to Googling for their project.
***
Harry packs his bag with the books he needs as students rush past him to go home. His bag weighed a million pounds and he’s pretty sure it aged his back 40 years but it was either his grades or his back that suffered.
“Hey Harry,” a voice calls out to him as we heads out the door. He turns to it; Raina, one of YN’s friends. She twirls her blonde hair and tilts her head. “It is Harry right?”
“Uhm,” suddenly Harry’s throat was parched. Raina was gorgeous and gorgeous girls never spoke to him.
“You’re cute,” she gets up close and personal with Harry and everything in that big brain of his liquifies and slides away. “So I heard you’re giving my bestie a hard time.”
“Your-uh,” what was wrong with him? Focus!
“My bestie! YN?”
“Oh,” the name snaps him out. Was this a prank, why was Raina talking to him? “W-what?”
“I thought you were smart,” she tilts her head again, this time Harry understands it to be condescending. “Did you not understand the question?”
Harry hears a snicker from behind him. His heart drops, he knew what was happening yet he walked right into it.
“Harry’s really smart,” YN’s voice comes from behind. “So smart he can’t even talk to me. Like, I’ll bring down your IQ or something right?”
“I never said that,” Harry turns, back to the wall like he was in some sort of fight for his life and he had to cover all his angles.
“Then what’s your problem?” YN demands. Her friend takes a back seat, staring at him from behind YN’s shoulder.
“I didn’t say I had one,” Harry mumbles.
“What? Speak up!” With one hand on her hip, YN was the image of a mean girl. Harry’s gaze flickers up to her face and he realizes she was actually angry. At him. He looks away.
“You’re so pathetic,” she tells him. “You can barely look me in the eye when I’m talking to you but you think you’re a hot shot just cuz you get straight As. You can take your intellectual superiority and shove it up your ass.”
He was surprised to hear her say intellectual superiority, then he realizes the irony of thinking that.
“This guy bothering you?”
Great. Harry hitches his backback higher on his shoulders. One of YN’s soccer star boyfriends had joined. He looks Harry up and down with a condescending smirk.
“No, I got it.” YN says but her friend opens her big mouth.
“He thinks he’s the smartest person here, he treats YN like shite.”
“Really?” He turns to Harry and now is when Harry realizes he was deep in. There was no way out.
“I’m sorry,” he looks YN in the eye and only her. He had to make a quick exit, find a way out of this before these meatheads decided to defend YN’s honour or something like that.
“Too late for sorry,” Raina says. Another guy—Brett joins the crowd.
“What’s going on?” He asks.
“Nothing,” YN says while her eyes stay on Harry.
“Hey Harry! Mate! This guy helped me pass my maths last semester.”
“Yeah he’s a nerd,” the other guy says to Brett. “That’s the point.”
“Hey Brett,” Harry nods. He should go, he thinks. Make a move. Get out of this circle forming around him.
“He’s a dick to YN,” Raina reminds everyone. What was her issue? “And he’s always staring at her like a creep.”
YN turns to look at her friend. Raina widens her eyes and shrugs.
“What the fuck?” The other guy, Harry had no idea what his name was, steps closer to Harry. “Are you a fucking perv?”
Statistically, this guy with his brute force and reactivity was probably more likely to be a perv over the years than Harry. But Harry doesn’t think it’s a good time to say that.
“Anyway,” YN says and with that all eyes are on her. “Apology not accepted. I’m over this let’s go.”
She walks away from him, Raina eyes him and follows. Their friend gives Harry the stink eye and follows too. Brett’s left. He shrugs and finally leaves Harry alone.
Little by little the breath comes back to his lungs and with shaky steps Harry exits the building. Some students lingering in the hall stare as he goes, probably the audience to what almost went down. And this was why Harry hated YN.
***
Over the next week Harry tries to be less intellectually superior to YN and practices looking her in the eye. He doesn’t know why it was so hard.
And it surprises him when the words coming out of her mouth aren’t entirely superficial and basic. But she continues to verbally abuse and belittle him and Harry continues to take it, his ire growing more by the day.
Just on Tuesday, at lunch she’d sent one of her boyfriends to sit at his table where he threatened Harry. Harry’s friend had stared at his phone the whole time, traitor. And yesterday YN had listed for him all the ways he could improve his appearance during class.
“Your hair could use a nice trim,” she tells him. “And your glasses are so 1970s. Like not in a trendy way. And honestly Harry why do you wear clothes that are too big and too old. Like seriously…”
It was hard not to be a know-it-all when that’s what she wanted to spend her time talking about.
“My appearance isn’t really a priority for me,” Harry had said hoping to shut her up.
“It really should be. Hey,” she’d called out to a friend of hers in class. “Don’t you think Harry’s style is sad?”
“Him?” Her friend had asked, like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say it in front of him. Harry had burned with embarrassment. “Yeah I reckon he could use a makeover.”
“Yeah maybe then he’d get a girlfriend. Get his nose out of his books.”
They laughed and the sound was haunting. Harry stayed staring at his book, gritting his teeth. He’d never had a girlfriend, gone on two dates in his life. It didn’t usually bother him but somehow YN made it feel like an open wound.
On Thursday, they have another research period.
“And how are we doing here?” Ms. Easton leans down and balances on their table. Harry and YN opted for a table and books this period.
“Good,” YN sits up. “Just finishing our research.”
“Good,” Ms. Easton smiles. “Did you two decide on a topic?”
Harry doesn’t look but he can feel her rolling her eyes. “Yeah. Harry wanted to do the royal family and their war legacy.”
“Hm.”
Harry was sensitive to feedback. When you’re smart you don’t get a lot of criticism, and when you do, it’s a hard pill to swallow. That’s why he was so sensitive to the tone of his teacher’s voice. He looks up to her. Was it just him or did she look a bit disappointed.
“S’not a good topic?” Harry asks. YN glances at him.
“Well,” the teacher crosses an arm over her abdomen and waves the other hand. She was choosing her words. “I was hoping putting the two of you together would produce an interesting project. Something out of the ordinary.”
“Oh.” Harry feels his grade flash in front of his eyes. Well, not flash but plummet.
“Hmph,” YN says in satisfaction. “Well Harry here felt very strongly about the topic.”
“Okay,” Ms. Easton pursues her lips. “It is a good topic. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it at the end of the month!”
As soon as their teacher is out of hearing range YN turns to Harry.
“I told you so.”
With that, she gets out of her seat and walks away. Out of the library, swiping the hall pass on her way out.
Suddenly he was hot. Very hot. Harry could feel the sweat dampen his shirt and he pulls the collar away from his neck. His project was disappointing? He was doing something wrong?
He stumbles up and finds Ms. Easton.
“Yes Harry?” She addresses him when she’s done with the pair she’d been talking to.
“Um what you said,” Harry clears his throat. “About the project. And pairing me with YN. I don’t understand…should we change it?”
“Up to you two to decide!” She says vaguely. “I can’t pick your topics for you. And you should only change it if you think you have enough time.”
“But our topic is disappointing?” Harry didn’t understand why Ms. Easton would make those comments and not just tell them upfront what she wants.
“No not at all!” she guides Harry to a bookshelf where it’s quieter. “War is a classic topic. But it’s also a very…straightforward topic do you understand?”
Classic was good. Classic was timeless, is that not what she wanted!?
“Harry,” she chides when he continues staring at her. “Listen. You’re a bright kid. Really, proper smart. I know you’ll do amazing in your future regardless of what I say in this class.”
It was YN. There was a but coming and she was going to say something about YN.
“But I’ve had a few bright kids in my class before. The thing about history is it repeats and the pattern I see is that there’s a creative energy even in something like history that’s lost on big brains like yours. That’s why I paired you with YN. I thought you two would complement the way you think really well. I was hoping to see a new topic come out of it. That’s not to say your current topic isn’t fabulous. I think if you want to continue with it, I’m excited to learn more.”
Harry doesn’t have anything to say. Actually, he’s embarrassed. This whole time he thought being partnered with YN was because she was failing or doing horribly. When really it was because the teacher thought he could use some help. Intellectual superiority 100, Harry 0.
“You two are getting along right?” Ms. Easton probes.
“Yeah,” Harry lies.
“She’s letting you call the shots?” She asks casually.
“Ehm,” Harry wavers. He had taken the reigns immediately because he didn’t think she could handle them. He feels his face turn more pink.
“The great thing about this project is to collaborate. Throughout history some of the best things were brought from collaborating…”
Harry zones her out and looks back at their desk. YN is still not there. Maybe she was skipping. But he spots her bag, that wasn’t true.
“Oh I better go help out your classmate,” Ms. Easton points to where someone has their hand up. “You’re alright?”
“Yeah,” Harry shakes the funk off. Maybe he’ll listen to YN more now but they only had a week and a half and it would be crazy to change their topic now.
But as he sits in his seat and waits for YN to return, to collaborate with, he feels it again. The sinking feeling. Like something was his fault.
YN was the mean girl but he hasn’t been the most friendly either.
After another 10 minutes go by he gets out of his seat and grabs the second hall pass.
He spots around the toilets, moves through the halls, and makes his way back to a stairwell. There YN leans against a wall on her phone. She doesn’t look up as he walks down until he stands in front of her.
“Oh,” the glow of her phone moves off her face, muffled by her sweater. “I thought you were random.”
“Are you coming back?” Harry asks. Still, his eyes flit from her face to her neck, settling on the wall behind her.
“Why does it matter? You’re doing the project with or without me.”
His throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton as he swallows. He should apologize. He should-
“Why are you so awkward for?” She demands. “Like. You’re smart and all but you’re kind of weird.”
Nevermind. He was so not apologizing.
“Hello? And then you go so quiet when I say anything direct. You can be smart as shite but you’re not making it anywhere if you can’t even talk to a girl without staring a hole into the space beside her.”
Harry’s mum always said to be himself. This was him, smart (nerdy—fine), quiet, awkward, and bookish. But it wasn’t easy to be this way when girls like YN existed. They were confident and loud, and she called him out like his sister did. But she was nothing like her. She was beautiful and she knew it. And she was rude, but maybe her mum told her to be herself too and this was it.
“What are you thinking?” She demands.
“What?” Harry asks in surprise.
“I want to know what the fuck you’re thinking in that big brain! You’re so awkward! Jeez!”
“I’m-I-why?”
“I don’t get you.” She gives him a once over. “So? What were you thinking?“
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“Seriously I-“
“Tell me.”
“I…” Harry trails away. He turns away from her and walks to the other end of the stairwell, pivots, and stands a few feet in front of her. “I was just wondering if this is who you really are.”
“Me? How am I?” Eyes narrowed, she sounds both curious and defensive.
“Really?” Harry meets her eye. “You’ve got such an attitude, you’re rude and loud and pushy, and I don’t know why you don’t like me but you’re always so condescending so I was just wondering if that’s who you are. Like when your mum says to be yourself, is that who you chose?”
Her mouth drops, then it snaps shut and her arms cross over in defence.
“You know why I don’t like you?” She asks. “Because you’ve got an attitude. You’re rude and pushy and condescending to fuck. So let me ask you—is that who you are? Is that who mummy tucks into bed each night?”
Harry’s impressed how she’s turned it around on him. He doesn’t take it seriously until she breaks eye contact and looks away.
“If I listened to my mom’s advice, I would be a bloody doormat in this place. I’d be used and discarded like a wet wipe. I have to be rude and pushy. And don’t even get me started on boys like you, who call girls pushy just because they know what they want. I can’t afford to be who I am, like you can, because I don’t have the privilege of being a bloke.”
They have a stare-off, mostly Harry is just surprised at everything coming out of her mouth. She goes on.
“I know who you are Harry. I know you’ve got a mum and sister you’re close with. I’ve seen you around town. For someone with two women like that in your life you can look up to, you sure are a misogynistic prick.”
Harry’s left stunned. He didn’t think she ever noticed him let alone know him. He replays her words, her glimpse of vulnerability. If her words were an essay, there would be no red ink. It was hard for him to accept but she was right. From the start, when Ms. Easton paired them he made a million assumptions about her. That were all proven wrong. And Ms. Easton was right too: he was smart and good at being smart but maybe there was more than that.
“Now you’re quiet again!?” YN sounds defeated.
“No wait,” Harry speaks up before she leaves. “I’m sorry. Seriously.”
“Yeah whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m over this.”
“Actually,” he steps in the same direction she does as she heads for the door. She stops in surprise. “Actually I am sorry. I was being intellectually superior. You’re smart too. I’m sorry.”
She looks at him warily, like he was going to laugh at her and tell her he was joking. When he doesn’t, when he maintains eye contact even though it kills him inside she backs away. Her face relaxes, like she’s accepted backing down. It was quite a sight for Harry, to see YN the Mean Girl who’s been making the last couple weeks hell for him, transform into something softer. Something that—he was still nervous to look at for too long, but one he could look at a little easier.
“I don’t want to write about the royal family and their fucking war legacy.”
Harry wasn’t expecting that.
“That’s basic as hell, I’m falling asleep just imagining us presenting it. It’s like buying drugstore when we can be buying Sephora.”
She squints at him, waiting for a rebuttle but he lets her have this one. After what Ms. Easton said, Harry was realizing that being smart didn’t mean you were right all the time. And he also had no idea what her example meant.
“Wow. Nothing?”
“No, I agree.” Harry smiles, a little embarrassed but wow. Her mouth splits into a grin and it changes her whole face. She’s suddenly younger, carefree, in that moment as Harry remembers how to breathe, he sees the person her mother tells her to be.
“What?” The staircase dims as she takes the smile back. “Are you going to go back to being mute.”
“No,” I was just admiring how beautiful you looked right now. Maybe you’re not who I thought you were. But you’re also way out of my league so now I have to act cool about it. “I just don’t know if we have time-“
“Stop.” She puts her hand up and walks towards him, back to the doors. “I’m going to come up with a pitch so good I’ll be picking your jaw off the floor and wiring it shut again. And…you can pitch your sad topic to me. The best one wins.”
“But we can just vote our own,” Harry points out the flaw in her plan, ignoring her threat.
“I think we’re both mature enough to hear each other out?” She opens the door back to the hall and Harry scrambles through it to keep up.
“I know I am,” Harry says it before he can think. Uh oh.
“You’re cheeky,” YN eyes him but she doesn’t look upset. Actually, she looks delighted. “Not just a quiet nerd hm?”
Harry shrugs, they had really been their stereotypes the last few weeks.
“So what you said before, you think I’m smart?”
“Well, yeah. I guess.” Harry felt uncomfortable now on the spot.
“So like you think I can be the future prime minister?”
“I…don’t know about that.” Harry side eyes her to notice she’s smiling. She was teasing him.
The bell rings out as they near the library.
“Talk to you tomorrow,” she says to him. She shoots him another smile and Harry tries to memorize it, second guessing he ever thought she was unattractive.
***
That Friday it’s like Harry and YN never had that conversation. She ignores him in the halls as usual, her friends sneer at him when they catch him looking their way. As much as Harry didn’t want to be disappointed, he was. Why did he think anything was going to be different?
But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her smile was a loop in his head any time his mind wanders. No wonder their whole grade was in love with her.
“You’re staring. Again.” Harry’s mate says at lunch. This time Harry looks away quickly, embarrassed. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” he says quickly. “She’s just been making my life hell since we partnered up.”
“Yeah I heard those guys roughened you up at lunch the other day.”
They didn’t. But they did aim a basketball around the net as Harry was walking by yesterday and it had hit him. His glasses had fallen off but luckily nothing broke.
“Just one more week,” Harry mutters. Earlier this week he was counting down the days. Now he wasn’t so sure.
When the bell rings signalling the end of lunch, Harry is surprised when YN falls in line with him to their class.
“Pitch ready?” She asks. She smelled amazing like flowers and tea. Focus.
“Yep,” Harry didn’t put much effort into it. He didn’t have the same passion he did before and he was curious what YN had.
They get the last 20 minutes of class to work on their project. YN sits behind Harry so he turns when their time starts.
“Me first,” YN brings out a binder. She pulls out a folded piece of paper that she hands. He opens it and glitter falls into his lap.
“Ugh!” Harry jumps up but despite that his crotch sparkles. “What is this?”
YN’s eyes are lit up and she hides her giggles behind her hand. Harry stares, turning pink. Why would she do that?
“I’m so-“ she covers her mouth again. “I’m sorry!” She’s shaking as she tries to stop laughing. It’s kind of contagious and Harry cracks a smile.
“My pants are covered in glitter,” he deadpans which send her head onto the table as she shakes with laughter.
“It was just supposed to lighten the mood ohmygod,” YN can barely finish her sentence.
That was it. Harry tries to pick up whatever glitter he can, using the paper (he realizes it was her pitch) as a dustpan. He taps her behind the shoulder and she jumps up to turn, in that moment he dumps the paper on her and sits back down in satisfaction.
“Now we’re even,” Harry tell her. Her mouth is open in shock.
“No!” She tries to dust it off but her crotch, that Harry glances at, is also shimmering. “We were even after I did that to you! This is! Oh my god.”
She stands over Harry, her eyes glancing at his pants. A snicker escapes. Then she’s back in her seat laughing.
“I have to say your pitch is not going well,” Harry reminds her.
“Oh my god,” she tried to get serious but she’s still grinning. Harry doesn’t mind.
“Should I go first?” He asks.
“No no I got this. Okay. The royal family and…their influence on food. Now before you think it’s stupid did you know the matriarch actually has a list of forbidden foods. And if we go back, and look at the countries they invaded we can see…” YN grows serious, but passionate, as she begins pitching the topic. And before anything just her passion alone convinces Harry they had to do this topic. “From land to table.”
“Okay.” Harry says.
“Okay? Like that was just okay?”
“No, I vote your topic.”
“Oh my god really?” She lights up and it’s blinding. Harry wanted to make her light up every chance he got. Focus.
“Yeah I think it’s interesting. And different. But we only have a week.”
“That’s okay!” YN opens her binder and pulls out another sheet. “I did a bunch of research. I couldn’t really sleep last night cuz of…anyway. So our library has all these books that can help. And we can spend the weekend catching up right? We can meet at the local library and work. So we’re caught up by Monday.”
Wow. She really thought this through.
“Isn’t that too nerdy for you?” Harry has to ask. Didn’t she have something cooler to do on the weekend.
“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes. That was the YN he knew. “Just because I’m not a nerd doesn’t mean I don’t care about my grades. You should know my lowest grade has been 82 this year.”
Wow. Even though Harry never scored below 95 that was still impressive coming from her. Which it shouldn’t be, he reminds himself. She was smart—just in a different way.
“Okay let’s do it!” Harry was excited. He suddenly understood what Ms. Easton was trying to say, he was missing creativity.
“Yay!” She squeezes his arm and Harry’s never felt more aware of his arm in his life. YN notices him freezing and she pulls away. “Sorry. I didn’t give you my cooties did I?”
She was quick. But it was funny and Harry can’t help but let out a snort.
“Is that a laugh? Are you laughing at something I said about you?”
Harry shakes his head and turns in his seat but his face is stuck in the grin. YN continues to heckle him from behind but she’s interrupted by the bell.
“Give me your number,” she says as he packs up. “So we can coordinate tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah,” Harry pulls up his contacts and hands her his phone. “Just put yours in.”
“Okay, I’m texting myself too,” she types for a while and then hands it back. It’s only later when she texts him at the end of the day does he click her contact.
Future Prime Minister YN ❤️
The picture is one of her from below with a serious face on. When he squints he realizes she’s flipping him off. It’s funny, and Harry feels like he sees her now. Even though she couldn’t always be herself like he could, Harry now understood her enough to recognize the glimpses of herself she was giving him.
It’s destined that every nerd falls for the mean girl. Harry never believed that until now. As YN becomes more recognizable to him, his crush grows a little more. He had to nip this in the bud, he realizes. Because she would never feel the same way. In a million years. But maybe they could be friends. Maybe it was time for Harry to discover who he could be when he wasn’t spending all his time being nerdy. He had a lot to learn from her, he realizes. And the one thing he was good at was studying.
#harry styles fic#writingsfromhome#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#fic#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#standalone#nerd!harry#ya harry styles#high school fic#harry stylesxreader#request#enemies to friends#?#i didn’t really plan this one out#just started writing so don’t mind any holes#idk if you wanted enemies to friends to Lovers#but I didn’t want to make it too long either#🥴#idk#i did really like writing this dynamic tho
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Golf on TV
Ask: fluffy piece based on Lennon Stella’s Golf on TV (sorry I deleted the original ask but this song is so fluff so ty!)
—————————
I wake up to the bed made, for a second I don’t know where I am. My sleep-addled brain tries to catch up to the present moment. The present morning.
I was in bed, in my new home. It was Saturday morning.
Last night had been a late one. I was the co-lead in an intense case at work and the plaintiff’s team had been smoking our ass in court. Last night we’d gotten boxes of newly admitted evidence and every single person stayed well into the AM to sort it out. The other side liked to play dirty and this is how they did it. Little did they know we’d found our smoking gun. Never underestimate Stewart, Stone, and Nowak.
But I’d gotten home and passed out on the couch. Well, I’d gotten home to Harry passed out on the couch with the TV on. He must have tried staying up for me even though I had told him to go home. But he stayed.
I remember the tension leaving my body just seeing him snuggled on the couch, his face a kaleidoscope of colours reflecting off from the TV. I’d met Harry less than a year ago, a meet cute moment where both of us had gone for the same taxi. He’d waved me in like a gentleman and I’d invited him to share it. Turns out we were only going a few blocks from each other.
He was from London, in San Francisco for work. The taxi ride had been 27 minutes in total but in that time it felt like we’d known each other for 27 years.
As soon as I saw him on the couch, I’d dropped my jacket there, and gotten in beside him. He’d barely stirred, and I passed out pretty quickly thereafter.
I sit up and the sham that was draped over me falls over the side of the bed. I check my watch, still on my wrist. It was past 7. A solid 4.5 hours—that was a restful night for me ever since I took this case on.
Harry must have carried me to bed, I realize. And I’d been dead to the world while he did.
I never expected to see him again after that taxi ride. Until a few weeks later, he was waiting for me in the courthouse lobby. He’d looked me up, saw I had a case that morning, and waited. It was his last week in San Francisco and he wanted to take me on a date. He hadn’t stopped thinking about me, he’d said. I hadn’t either.
I’d dated plenty before him, had several boyfriends, even a situationship. Harry was the first guy I ever felt relaxed around. From that first date he made sure I felt cared for, that I was happy—he was unafraid to put me first. Even when he had to go back to London and we were long distance for three and a half months, we were always talking.
I’d felt unwanted before. Those were the days I chased after boys that only liked me for doing the chasing. Never did they actually want me. Because when they got me, they’d leave and keep me chasing them forever. Harry had never once been shy about the fact that he wanted me. That he chose me over everything.
We were always running towards each other. Never after each other.
I blink away the sleepiness and notice Harry had put me in a tshirt. It was the little things.
That’s when I hear the voices coming from downstairs. Harry…and my mom.
It was time to get up.
“Good morning princess,” my mom spots me first. I looked bad this morning—even though Harry had attempted to take my makeup off whenever he’d taken me to bed, and replaced my slacks for shorts, I still had craters for eye bags and a tangled bedhead, and dehydrated and inflamed skin from sleeping with makeup. But mom never stopped calling me princess.
“Harry and I were just making pancakes,” she points to the griddle behind her. God, mom loved Harry. It was weird because she’d only ever met 2 of my boyfriends since I started dating as a teen. She hated both of them and was never shy about it. All the others she’d heard about over the phone or a late night snack at her house back when she lived close to where I worked. She hated them all equally. “We’re worried you’re not eating enough.”
I catch eyes with Harry, it was a constant argument with us. But it was hard to eat with a regular appetite when I was so close to the end of big cases. He knew that. He used my mom as a shield to push his own agenda, they worked as a team like that.
But it never made me mad. It was more caring than any ex had ever been.
“Pancakes are your favourite,” Harry says while towel-drying his hands. He’d been ‘washing up’, as he would say with his accent.
“They are,” I say as he walks around the island to me and kisses my cheek. He was always weirdly chaste around my mom, nothing like his behaviour late nights in bed.
Mom grins at me from behind him. She was obsessed.
So was I though.
“Let’s eat!” Mom says. “C’mon, we gotta eat before they get cold. Y/N grab the fruit behind you.”
“Sure mom,” I grab the bowl she prepared. Harry watches mom leave the kitchen with the pancakes and syrup. As soon as she’s out of sight he tugs me right against him.
“Y’know you don’t have to wait for her to leave to be my boyfriend?”
“Is that what I am?” He nuzzles my neck. “I thought I was just your boy-toy.”
“Nah,” I let him kiss me even though we’re both smiling. “My boy-toy’s like, 5 years younger than you are.”
“Yeah well, he’s not the one trying to take your makeup off at 5am while you talk about invoices and flash drives.”
“Oops,” I must have been talking about our smoking gun in my sleep. I couldn’t even rest unconscious. “Thank you for that. You could have left me on the couch.”
“Maybe if I was your boy-toy. But I’m your strong English boyfriend, I take you to bed.”
“And you do it so well,” I pat his arm condescendingly, stealing one more kiss before skirting away. I leave him chuckling in the kitchen and gathering the coffee for breakfast.
Before Harry, I didn’t realize love could be so selfless. That it didn’t have to hurt all the time. That one person could be enough.
“Y/N?” Mom asks. “What do you think?”
“Huh?” I’d gotten lost in thought and I see Harry smirk. I guess I was just staring at him.
“For your dad’s birthday coming up?!” She sighs. “I’ve been talking about his dinner—Harry said he has to go back to London the week before. I thought we could do a birthday dinner early so Harry can be there. You know your dad would like that.”
He would. My dad was just as keen on Harry, telling me that he was good for me—the way a man should be. Those were his exact words.
I remember I’d been confused at first when Harry and I started long-distance dating. He was more stable and consistent than relationships I’d had where we lived inches apart. Being long-distance, I’d only missed him physically when we were apart, he was still there for me in every other way.
When he officially transferred to his San Francisco office 5 months ago, he had surprised me. I remember opening my door to him standing there with flowers and macarons—my favourite dessert. I’d nearly smashed them all when I screamed and threw myself onto him.
After that moment I knew I was done with romanticizing dysfunction and compromising. His love was healthy and pure, and it was for me.
I tried my best to give that to him in return. Lately I’d been a bad girlfriend working long hours and barely seeing him. But I’d make it up to him. He didn’t know this but I’d booked the same flight to London with him, that’s why mom was trying to move dad’s birthday dinner up. So I’d be there too.
“Sounds great,” I say. “That way we can all make it.”
“Perfect I’ll make us a reservation.” Mom picks up her phone and begins typing on it with one finger, one key at a time. She tsks, “Oh why is it doing this now.”
“Here Mrs. Y/l/n,” Harry holds his hand out. “What are you trying to do.”
“This new update has been driving me crazy,” she hand her phone to Harry. He glances at me and we bite back a smile. Mom was notorious for being Bad at Technology. But Harry was always patient and tried teaching her.
“The search bar’s on the bottom now,” Harry shows her. “That’s where you type it in.”
“It was fine at the top why do they always have to move it around, gah I’ll just do this on a computer.”
“Yeah no rush mom,” I say.
“Well I’ll clear the table now. I need to get going soon I have a squash game at half eight.”
“Yeah I need be in by then.” Court opened at 9:30 today and I had to be there a half hour early to submit what we had.
“You two stay here,” mom begins piling plates. She’s surprisingly strong when she snatches the mug Harry’s trying to take away himself. “Let me clean up. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Thanks for the breakfast mom!” I shout as she heads away. Harry echoes a thank you.
“Don’t thank me,” I hear her mumble as she walks away.
Me and Harry are left grinning at each other. He holds his hand out on the table and I clasp his.
“Your mum’s sweet.”
“My mum,” I tease him. I keep his hand held as I go around the table to his seat. He tugs me down onto his lap. “Did you actually call your mom mummy as a kid?”
“Did you call your mum mommy?” Harry asks in a decent American accent.
“Maybe,” I smile.
“Maybe.” He replies.
“I’ll just ask your mum when I meet her someday.”
“She really does want to meet you.” He says seriously. “She thinks I’m deliberately keeping you away.”
“Maybe you are, so she can’t answer all the burning questions I have about you.”
“I can just imagine you and her teaming up against me. My sister will join in too.”
I’d met his sister a few months back when she visited. We hit it on immediately just like Harry and I had. It was a bit of a relief.
“I can’t wait to swap stories over breakfast with your mom.”
“Oh you’d love her breakfast,” Harry smiles fondly. I feel a twinge then, sometimes I wondered if he ever got homesick. Especially when he talked about memories from home. “She does the best English breakfast. You’d have to try black pudding though.”
I crinkle my nose, “Isn’t that the one with the blood?”
“Mmmm it sure is,” he grips my hips and a shiver shoots up my spine.
“Gross! Why would anyone eat that? Or your-what’s that other pudding thing? The one you tried making last winter that’s all puffy-“
“Yorkshire.” He smiles.
“You literally poured hot oil on your mixture. It’s clogging my pores just thinking about it.”
“That’s it. You’re coming to London before the year is over and you’re going to be begging for more when you have a proper roast. What I made at home was a pathetic attempt.”
“Mmm I don’t get it.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “I just don’t get English food. It’s like people who wear crocs, or golf on TV, I don’t get it.”
“You just descibed,” Harry tucks my hair behind my ear, “the perfect date. We’re sorted for the weekend.”
I laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“But I love you.” I kiss him. He pulls me back to him when I part.
“I love you.”
“I really do need a shower before I head in though,” I remind him.
“Maybe I’ll join you,” he says low enough so my mom can’t hear.
“If you’re brave enough with mom still here.” I tease.
“Okay hon,” she pops out of nowhere. “I’m heading out. Good luck with court today.”
“Thanks mom.” I get up and give her a big squeeze. “I appreciate you dropping by.”
“Of course. And I’ll drop dinner by tonight I saw the state of your fridge, you should clean that thing out y/n.”
“Yess mom,” I roll my eyes. Harry snickers behind me. Mom should see his fridge, it was half beer cans and takeout containers.
While mom tells Harry about the dinner she would drop by for us I get a headstart on my shower. It was already quarter to 8 and I couldn’t waste any more time.
Harry joins me shortly after, he lowers my hands when he gets in and washes my hair slowly with care. I nearly pass out in the shower with how good his fingers feel on my scalp.
“Thank you,” I turn to him after I wash it out.
“Don’t mention it love,” he kisses my temple.
“Harry,” I suddenly feel choked up. I think his scalp massage had unblocked some chakra stuff because I’m suddenly overwhelmed with feeling.
“What?” He tilts my face up.
“I’m just…I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
“Nonsense.” He swipes my tear away even though the stream of water makes it all the same.
“No I…I never thought I’d meet someone like you. I used to think love was hurting. It doesn’t make sense anymore-“
“Like golf on TV.”
“Yeah,” I laugh and it breaks up the knot in my throat. “Yeah like golf on TV. Now being in love feels like soccer-“
“Football.”
“Soccer,” I correct him. He grins. “It makes sense to me.”
“If you didn’t have work in 30 minutes,” Harry pulls me into him and crushes me against him. It feels good, like being held together. “You’d be face down in bed in the next 10 seconds.”
“Where’s this Harry when my mom’s around.” I tease.
“This Harry’s just for you.” He says just as he turns the shower off. I draw away as he grabs us some towels and I watch him with an unbreakable joy; if it was physical it could illuminate this tiled shower and bounce around the whole room.
He was the reason I got through all these gruelling hours for court. Because I knew I had someone waiting for me, that I could steal an hour away with, and it would leave me refuelled enough for another 24 hour work-day.
“Why are you smiling at me like that,” Harry asks as he hands me the towel. I shake my head and wrap it around me. He watches as I blow dry my hair, kissing my shoulder when I’m done.
“I’ll leave when you leave. Should I drop you off to the office?”
“Please?” I ask. “That’d give me an extra 5 minutes.”
His face lights up.
“No,” I say as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. “No Harry I have to be early!”
“I only need 2,” he says as he launches me onto the bed. “Maybe 3.”
I pretend to be annoyed but I inch up in bed as he makes his way over and I can’t think of a better way to spend the extra 5 minutes. Or 10. Oops.
If the old me ever met the new me, she’d probably try to stop me. She didn’t know what love could look like. That it could be a gentle smile, a drive in to work, making sure you’re eating, helping your mom out with her phone, or washing your hair for you in the shower.
I’d tell her—the old me, that it was as simple as this: I wanted him, only him. And he wanted me too.
#writingsfromhome#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#fic#harry styles fluff#lyrics#lennon stella#golf on tv#this was a cute song to write to#harry stylesxreader#harry styles one shot#harry styles request#i have a hard time writing pure fluff#so i love when a song just carries the whole fic w fluff#ty anon#this fic is qd#i’m on a fluff roll#thats new
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Three’s Company
A/N: I tried to balance some angst with fluff, hope I did it right lol. You’re dating Harry’s best friend but you and Harry are also best friends. Until he confesses a secret. I think this one got long but I wrote it quickly so don’t mind any mistakes. hope everyone enjoys it! Happy holidays :) <3
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“Me and my boys,” I wrap one arm around my boyfriend Frank and the other around my best mate, Harry. “I’m so glad you guys showed tonight!”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Harry squeezes my hand on his shoulder.
“I’m so proud of you,” Frank pulls me away from Harry into his arms. He plants a very wet kiss on me. “You’ve worked so hard these last few months.”
“I know,” I take my boyfriend’s face in my hands. “Thanks for supporting me.”
“Ahem,” Harry clears his throat. “I was also up at 2am helping you practice lines.”
“Of course,” I plant a kiss on Harry cheeks. “Couldn’t have done it without either of your support.”
I link my hand through Frank’s and we continue the trek to the pub. It was opening day for the musical I was apart of and it was the first major production. Everytime I caught my face on a tube poster, advertising the show, I couldn’t help the giddy rush of warmth that filled me. It was always my dream to be on stage and I finally had it.
“So this girl you’re seeing,” Frank addresses Harry who is walking a few steps ahead on his phone. “You serious about her?”
“Think so,” Harry says. My heart flutters at the thought of him finally settling down, not because I was jealous but the last time he got serious with a girl was a year ago. Even though by then Frank and I had been going steady for 4 years she hadn’t liked our relationship and ended it with him when he wouldn’t cut me off. I didn’t want that to happen to him again.
“Good for you,” Frank says. We share a glance, having had many concerned conversations about Harry’s love life. Even though we were only in our mid-20s, Harry never quite got serious about a girl. We just wanted to see him happy.
Harry’s girlfriend meets us at the pub, she couldn’t come to the show because she had a shift which she tells me when we meet her. Harry had already told me this but I think it’s endearing how much she cares, she tells me she’ll go to the next one Harry shows up for.
“I like her,” I tell Harry later.
“That’s because she’s flattering you,” Harry says as he gets the both of them drinks. “You’re so easy to win over.”
“You’re just jealous we’re getting along,” I tease but he rolls his eyes at me and goes back to the table. I get drinks for Frank and I since he was deep in conversation with someone he knew.
“How long have you two been going out for?” I ask the couple. “Harry only mentioned you a couple weeks ago.”
“Really?” Natalie looks up at Harry.
“Not like that,” Harry flicks my shoulder. “I just didn’t want them sticking their nose in my business. Her and Frank love to interrogate me about my love life.”
“Only cuz we care,” I shrug.
“We started dating April so…almost 2 months?” Nat answers. My jaw drops.
“2 months Harry? And you never said anything?!”
“It’s my life!”
“I tell you everything!”
“I never ask,” Harry shakes his head and turns to Nat. “She’s an oversharer.”
She laughs, “Speaking of sharing remind me how you all met? Harry only said you all met in uni.”
“Harry sucks at stories,” I lean in closer to her so I don’t have to shout so loud. I tell her how Harry and I had met at a school-sponsored concert. We recognized each other from a few classes. We started hanging out a lot to study and party. How he had introduced me to Frank a couple weeks after we met and we hit it off. It took us another semester of circling each other and Harry playing the third wheel for us to finally get together. Frank and I have been together since and Harry has been our best mate since too.
“That’s so sweet,” she squeezes his arm. “You’ll be their best mate at their wedding, godfather to their child, third-wheel for life?”
“Harry looks a bit pale at that,” I joke but he did look paler. “Don’t worry, Frank will still come over to play video games.”
Nat and I laugh and Harry joins but it sounds forced. He was such a weirdo.
“We always say three’s company when it comes to us, right Harry?” I reference the slogan we came up for ourselves. “We won’t forget about Harry when we tie the knot!”
Frank joins us, interrupting anything Harry would’ve said. We all get to knowing each other. I really like Natalie, and Frank tells me later at home that he got a good feeling about her too. It’s unfortunate when a month or so later Harry tells us they broke up.
What comes as the biggest shock is a couple months after that, on an oddly sunny day in October Frank tells me he wanted to break up. Right before my last few weeks. He doesn’t even wait for my run to be over. And just like that, 5.5 years vanish in front of my eyes.
The cherry on top is when Harry stops talking to me as much, starts making excuses for why he can’t hang out. Even though we were mates before Frank and I got together, he seems to have chosen sides. Those weeks feel like my own personal horror movie. I’m a zombie in my day-to-day and when I go on stage I use up every ounce of energy and emotion I have to make my last performances count. But it tears a hole right through me.
The week after Frank and I breakup I bump into Harry near his work. Well, I actually purposely made an appointment close to where he worked in hopes of seeing him.
“H!” I call out when I spot his side profile on the same sidewalk as me. “Harry!”
He does a double take and then halts, people around him grumbling as they walk around. I pull him to the side and give him a big hug. I try not to let it hurt when his arms are slow to go around me.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, how’ve you been?” I put on a brave voice even though all I want to do is cry.
“Ehm,” he looks uncomfortable but he smiles down at me. “I’m good, I’ve been slammed at work sorry Y/N I’ve been meaning to see you.”
“Yeah,” I wait for him to give me more. The silence stretches out until he fills it.
“I’m really sorry about Frank and you I…I didn’t even know he was going to do that.”
“That makes two of us,” I try to joke but it’s too fresh and my voice cracks. Harry looks away.
“How’s your show going?”
“I’m on two more weeks and then I’m back to auditioning for majority of my days.”
“No callbacks from the other places?”
“Not yet.”
We stand in awkward silence and I want to scream. We were so easy, why was Harry being so weird? It’s not like Frank was the glue that held us together. And now the irritation begins to creep in as Harry continues being standoffish.
“What’s been going on with you?” I try.
“Not much, still trying the dating scene.” He sighs. “And working. My sister’s throwing this Halloween thing even though we’re all adults. I think she’s trying to set me up with one of her mates.”
“Just dress up like a sexy lamp, no one will want to come near you.”
“A sexy lamp?” Harry laughs and finally, finally looks at me.
“Beauty and the Beast? I saw it online when I was looking at costumes. I felt like I was in some twisted alternate universe where people are trying to be a sexy lamp.”
“Have you seen a Christmas Story?” Harry asks and I laugh so hard at that, it feels so good.
“Oh my god,” I wipe away my tears. “I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”
Harry’s cheeks are pink from the cold and the way he looks at me with pity and sadness drops coal into my stockings. How could he look at me like that? He was my best mate, I wasn’t some sorry damsel with a broken fucking heart.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been as available,” he finally says to me.
“Yeah,” I shrug. What else was I supposed to say? Well what I really wanted to do was get angry like everything was normal, but it didn’t feel like the right time.
We stand like that in silence until he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ears and it must be from being so touch, and friend, starved the last couple weeks that I sigh when he does it. He shoves his hand in his pocket and clears his throat.
“I should get going before the tube is sardines.”
“Right,” I say with a hard edge. Harry could tell I was getting upset but I didn’t care.
“I like the new hair by the way,” Harry says as he side steps me and becomes one with the crowd.
And even though he was sorry, he doesn’t message me to hang out or to ask how I’m doing. He abandons me too, only responding when I message him. I wasn’t giving up on him though even though it hurt to know he had given up on me. I couldn’t lose my best friend just because I’d lost my boyfriend.
***
“Hey Harry, I know you’ve been busy lately but my last show is this Thursday. In case you wanted to come see it. It’s gotten a lot smoother since that first one you went to hahahah…anyway. I left your name at the door if you can make it. I hope you can.”
I leave the voicemail on Monday and hope Harry can do it. I’ve had family come down to the city to see me, and friends show up here and there. But the people I thought would show up for my first and last performance are suddenly just gone from my life. If I could go back in time to the first show I’d tell myself to hold on tight because everyone would leave me.
Between practice and evening shows I don’t hear back from Harry. No text, voicemail, or message anywhere. My last night I get into character with a heart made of lead and tissue permanently pressed to my waterline so my mascara doesn’t run. I’d save my tears for the show itself.
As I secure my wig to my head a knock come from my dressing room door.
“It’s open,” I call, expecting the stage manager or my agent or a cast member. Harry walks in instead.
“Harry! You’re here!” I’m not even thinking as I rush to him and throw my arms around him. He’s slow to wrap his around me again and that’s when reality crashes back down. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Yeah I wouldn’t miss it,” Harry sits down on a nearby chair. “I know I was supposed to come to a lot more but…”
“You’re here now,” I beam, willing to put the past aside for now. “None of my family could make it tonight, it was going to be sort of depressing for me.”
“Drinks are on me,” Harry says. “I can’t believe my best mate’s done a whole season on broadway.”
“Right!?” I’m more excited of being called his best mate than doing the whole season. As I sit back down to do my wig I keep an eye on H through the mirror.
“So,” I start out tentatively. “Hear from Frank lately?”
“Hm,” he looks up from his phone. “I’m not going to be the messenger between you two.”
“What?! Of course not, jeez H I was only asking if he’s doing okay. I’m not like, thinking he’s somehow going to un-breakup with me.”
“I saw him last weekend. He’s alright, his new flat’s not too far from me actually.”
“That’s good,” I say. So he really did take Harry with him in the split. I can’t help but push more, I turn in my seat to face him.
“I know we haven’t spoken ever since shite hit the fan between Frank and me. But we’re still okay, right? We were always friends before you introduced me to Frank and I hope you don’t feel like you have to take sides.”
“What? No, nothing like that,” he looks cornered. He tugs his sleeve over his hand, not making eye contact.
“Okay...” I couldn’t interpret his body language. “Okay, it seems like you’re annoyed or something? Like, you want to leave this conversation. Did I say something?”
“No,” he shakes his head, his hair moving with the aggressive shake.
“So what is it?” I can hear the annoyance creeping into my own voice. “Did Frank say something about me? Why do you seem so cagey? What’s going on Harry?”
“I’m not-I’m not cagey,” he scoffs, straightening to his full height. “I just don’t feel like talking.”
“So Frank said something-”
“No! I just don’t care to have this conversation.”
“Oh,” my eyes sting. “So that’s it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Frank and I break up and so do we? You don’t want to talk anymore?”
“I didn’t mean it like that-”
“Well it sounded a lot like that,” I hold up my hand. “Don’t try to backtrack. I thought we were best friends Harry, nothing was supposed to change between us just because Frank and I are on bad terms-”
“But that’s the thing!” Harry shouts. “That’s the thing--everything’s changed! Everything, Y/N...look, I don’t want to talk about this!”
“I do!” I push back, interested in what he meant. “What changed? I don’t understand, and I want to talk about it! I can’t lose my boyfriend and my best friend in the same week! Nothing should change between us, Frank has nothing to do with us!”
Harry looks puzzled as his eyes fix on my face. I raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t speak. “What?”
“You’ve never...” he drags his hand down his face. “Y/N, I don’t want to talk about this. For our friendship’s sake, I can’t talk about this.”
“For our friendship’s sake?!” I exclaim. “I need to talk about this! You’re my best friend! Or so I thought.”
“No!” Harry finally snaps. “I don’t want to talk about this! You think Frank and you breaking up shouldn’t change our dynamic, change us, but of course it fucking does. And I don’t want to talk about it.”
I catch his arm as he tries to walk away, nearly being dragged with him as he rushes away. “Explain, Harry please explain. I don’t get it!”
“Fuck Y/N,” Harry talks with his back to me. I drop his arm. “Frank was the only thing that helped keep you in the friendzone. When you’re not his girlfriend...I don’t know what we are.”
I don’t know what to say, Ifeel like the wind’s been knocked out of me. “So all these years...you were just hanging around me because you wanted to be something more? Was our whole friendship a lie?”
“Of course not, what?” Harry finally turns. “You’re my best friend, you always have been. But by the time I decided to do something about my crush, you confessed to me that you really liked my best friend. And I could tell Frank was really happy around you. I loved both of you, I couldn’t get in between that.”
“So what, you’ve just been...secretly resenting us every time we all hung out? Punishing yourself everytime you third-wheel us?”
“No, no no this isn’t how...that’s not how it’s been.”
“What the fuck Harry?” I cry. “You’ve been secretly pining after your best friend’s girlfriend for years?”
“I know it’s fucked up!” Harry shouts. “I know I’m fucked up for wanting my best friend’s girlfriend I know! You don’t have to spell out how fucked up it is!”
“What the fuck,” I whisper.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Harry’s face crumples. “Please, Y/N that’s just what I was trying to say. When you were with Frank, I could hang out with you—with the both of you and not care because you two made each other so happy how could I come in between the happiness of the two people I loved the most in the world?
But now that you two have broken up, there’s no red light there. There’s nothing to stop me from kissing you. I mean, consent obviously…” He corrects himself, sighing. “I know, I know. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. But you always know how to pull anything out of me.”
“I wish you were better equipped against me,” I slide down the wall. “This is so fucked up, I wish I could un-know that.”
“Is it so bad?” Harry’s gaze burns a hole through me. “Do you hate me?”
“No, I couldn’t...” how could I hate him when my intention the first night we ever met was to hook up with him. Things only changed when I met his best friend. “I don’t hate you, I just don’t know where we go from here.”
“I just need some space,” Harry says. “I think you probably need some too, now that that confession’s out of the box.”
“Shit,” I bury my face in my hands.
“I promise, we can go back to being best friends.” Harry continues. “I just need to figure out, where to put you. In my head...in my heart.”
I don’t say anything, I could barely look at him. To think he had this in him for as long as I’ve known him. It feels a bit like maybe I never knew him.
“I’ll be in the audience…break a leg Y/N.”
I hear the door close behind him but I can’t get up. I stay curled on the floor until a knock reminds me there’s 5 minutes ‘til positions. Shit.
I finish my hair and do some breathing exercises. I had to compartmentalize and use the emotions in the show just like my coach taught me.
“You’re okay,” I tell myself in the mirror. “You’re going to kill it. You’re okay. You can deal with everything later. Just do your best now.”
With one final breath I exit my room and get out there, putting on my best performance. And I guess the crazy heightened emotions help because the final reviews rave about my intensity. And while I curl up in bed that night sobbing myself to sleep, my inbox finally fills with open offers and auditions. This heartbreaking period opened a door to something new.
Two months later:
As a child, I always wanted to be in New York City during Christmas. Every movie made it look magical and wistful.
It was magical, in the right spots. And I couldn’t deny the magnetic pulse that surrounded the place. But it was also cold, incredibly cold, lonely, and dirty.
“Hey,” my roomate calls out when I enter our flat. Or apartment. “You got some mail I slipped it under your door.”
“Thanks,” I unwrap my massive scarf and heavy coat. “It’s so bloody cold out there.”
“It’s just starting,” she glances away from the TV to our window. Small flakes were starting to fall, it felt like looking at a snow globe.
She goes back to watching TV and I head to my room. It was smaller than the one I had back home but I’d decorated with fuzzy rugs and cozy comforters and furry blankets. And now I looked forward to it every day.
During the day I was practicing for my second ever show. After my intense performance on my last day, I was invited to audition for &Juliet which was moving to NYC. If they liked me, my flight would be paid for and I would join them in the Big Apple. Luckily, they liked me enough to offer one of the roles a couple weeks later. It wasn’t too major, but big enough that I had scenes throughout the musical. After what had happened the past months I thought fuck it and went.
It might seem like I was running away from my life but I saw it as a clean start. Big breakup, end of my show’s season, and a truth that shattered my core. I couldn’t stay in London.
I hadn’t told him. Harry. After everything I didn’t think I had to. He wanted space, I needed the same thing.
But it was lonely living in a new city with no connection to back home. Sure I talked to family and friends regularly, I hung out with my roomate and went out for drinks with my cast mates. But the people—the person who knew me better than I knew myself, well he was gone.
Frank had messaged me a few weeks ago when I posted on my story about New York. I didn’t have that big of a following but anyone who liked me in my last roles tended to stay on and follow my journey. So I used social media as an online journal.
It had been surprisingly courteous. He’d congratulated me, and said if he was ever in the city he would book tickets to see me. It was kind. And I don’t know if the shock of Harry’s truth was bigger than the breakup, or if enough time passed for me not to feel as hurt about it, but I liked talking to Frank just as a friend.
That’s what he asked me when we broke up—if we could still be friends. I thought it was so selfish and dickish to ask but now, I warmed up to the idea.
The opening show was booked for the beginning of January so I couldn’t go home for Christmas. I knew it was going to be lonely but a few of my castmates invited me to their Christmas eve dinner. It seemed like a lot of New York was made up of found family. I was still finding mine.
***
“Two weeks until our first show,” Nolan drops his head down on the table.
“You’ll get it,” Christa pats him on the back. “He’s just hard on you because he wants you to be your best.”
“That one fucking line!” Nolan kept missing his cue on his final line and it had been haunting him.
“What could help?” Ravi joins us with the coffees he promised. It was a 8am rehearsal today and we were all beat from last night’s rehearsal.
“I’m close to you,” I offer. “I could cue you somehow if it helps?”
“Yeah?” Nolan look up. “Maybe, let’s try that. Something subtle.”
“Yeah!” Christa lights up.
“Okay,” I feel good inside, having made a good contribution. Sometimes I felt like an outsider coming into this production so late, it felt like everyone was already familir with everyone else. And I had the least experience out of everyone. It was hard not to feel like an imposter.
“You’re a natural,” Ravi hands me a coffee. “Don’t worry too much Y/N. I see the gears turning in your head.”
“Yeah everyone already loves you.” Christa pipes in. “You gotta relax.”
“I try!” I roll back my shoulders. The role meant a lot to me. “I just want to do my best.”
“You are,” she lays a hand on my shoulder. “You know you’ll get told off if you weren’t.”
“So Y/N is joining us for Christmas?” Ravi asks.
“I think so?” Christa raises an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah,” I nod. “I’m not going home this year.”
“Feel free to invite a plus-one,” Christa says.
“Oh,” I plat with the lid of my cup. “Probably won’t.”
“No boyfriends?” Nolan asks. “Girlfriends?”
“Nolan,” Christa scolds. He shrugs.
“No I,” this was awkward. “I had a breakup before I finished my last show. I haven’t really been eager to jump into a new one.” Especially when Harry’s confession always lingers in the back of my mind. Damn him.
“You ran away.” Nolan states like it’s fact.
“No!” I argue. “It was like over a month later. Plus we started reconnecting again-“
“Nope. Don’t go there,” Christa warns. “Never walk back into the past.”
“My fiancé and I broke up once and we’re getting married next summer,” Ravi jumps in.
“Don’t listen to him,” Christa waves her hand in his face. “He’s an anomaly.”
“Who are you calling anomaly?” Ravi asks. We laugh as the insults go flying between them and a small part of me is relieved to not be on the outside looking in like I did when I first arrived.
“I’m not getting back together with him, plus there’s so much distance.” I reassure the group.
Plus Frank literally said he didn’t feel the same way about me anymore. After 5 years together, he’d fallen out of love somewhere along the way. It was hurtful, and I don’t think he would go back on his word. I don’t think I’d want to take him back anymore.
It hits me then, both of the boys I loved so dearly were lying along the way. One said he loved me even though deep inside he was falling out of love. The other loved me more than a friend, but only called me his best friend.
“You alright?” Nolan asks. The group had left me while I sat in thought, everyone was getting into places.
“Yeah,” I reach for his hand and he helps me up. “Just thinking.”
We get into place and with direction, begin rehearsal for the day. I get lost in it, one of my favourite things to do.
***
“Flowers!” One of the PAs drops a bouquet onto my table as I finish setting my makeup in place. All the moving and the harsh stage lighting made it sweaty, and I couldn’t risk my makeup running.
“I don’t think…” I stop as I notice it was my name on the card. Who would send me flowers on opening? My family already wished me luck on facetime and the few friends in the city were here for the show. I turn the card around.
I already know it’s going to be fantastic but break a leg anyway xx
I read it again. It sounded like Frank, he thought everything was fantastic. Maybe he remembered opening night.
I smell the flowers, another cast mate who shared my room strikes up a conversation about them and I finish my hair to it. We go out together and I feel my heart in my throat. The last time I had all my support in the second row. This time, they were an ocean away and my heart ached thinking about them.
Channel your emotions. Channel your emotions.
I repeat the mantra, and when it’s my cue I break out on stage and wait a beat. Then start my line.
I don’t have a moment to actually look at the audience until my second-last scene. That’s when I notice them. Frank. And Harry.
“Count…me in!” I stumble on a line. Shit. Shitshitshit.
I look back at Christa and continue our lines but her eyebrow dips for a moment and I know she caught it too. I just hoped our director wouldn’t point it out.
Harry and Frank were here. Harry and Frank were here? Don’t think about it. Can’t think about it.
“A strong woman,” I respond to Nolan. I nudge him like we’d practiced and his final line comes tumbling out. I send out a prayer that it was smooth.
I go off stage for a few until my next scene and catch my breath.
“What happened?” Nolan asks. “I thought I heard you almost forget a line.”
“I saw someone in the audience, wasn’t expecting…” i trail off as I hear my cue. “Talk later!”
I rush back on and finish up. It’s exhilerating and just like that I can’t believe our first show is done!
We stay on for the final bits, the final bow, and then I’m rushing to my room for my phone. Did Frank message me? Did I miss something?
But it’s empty.
The other girls in the room trickle in and we all congratulate each other. They go over some of their lines and areas they almost messed up in. I’m too distracted by everything to join fully.
I try to engage but I’m mostly wiping away my stage makeup so I can head out. I don’t know if I wanted to avoid who I just saw or find them.
If you avoid them, then you really are running away.
Ugh. I would have to find them some way. I leave Frank a message and go back to the conversation.
Eventually, with dread weighing me down, I agree to meet the boys where Frank texted me. They were staying at a hotel a few blocks away and there was a bar in the lobby they said was nice.
Frank stands as soon as he sees me, Harry’s back is to me so he’s slow to stand.
“Y/N you were bloody fantastic!” Frank wraps me in his arms and it’s been so long that I squeeze him extra hard. I missed him, or maybe I just missed being held.
“Thank you!” I say into his shoulder. I let go and look between the two. “What are you two doing here? You didn’t just come for me right? Because that’s insane. I…”
“Well kind of,” Frank admits.
“That’s…too much!” I imagine the cost of everything and cringe that they paid that much to see me.
“Well Harry started dating a pilot,” Frank says proudly. Harry doesn’t meet my eye. “So we practically flew for pennies!”
“Oh wow!” I lean into Frank’s arm around my back. It was probably bad, but it felt good here. Except for the massive awkward block that was Harry. “I don’t know what to say I really didn’t expect-“
“I know.” Frank laughs. I missed that laugh. “We caught you by surprise, I saw it on your face right Harry?”
“Yeah,” Harry forces a laugh. “We felt bad. Didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”
“It’s not the first time,” I tell him and he catches my double meaning because he stares at me. I raise my eyebrows and he looks away, back at Frank.
“Can I have a moment?” I turn to Frank. “With Harry?”
“Oh,” his face falls. “Of course.”
We stand awkwardly as Frank doesn’t leave. He looks to the side like he usually does when he’s trying to say something. “Look Y/N, I know after our breakup our group just fell apart. But don’t blame Harry. He was caught in the middle, he told me you were mad at him. Be mad at me instead-“
“Thanks. Frank.” Harry cuts his best friend off. “Don’t worry mate, we just need to talk.”
I keep my eyes trained on Harry as Frank moves away. I take his seat at the bar and wait for Harry to take his.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Why did you disappear?” He asks back.
“You wanted space. Wasn’t that good for us?”
“I meant time, like time away. Not move to bloody America.”
“Well I had an opportunity and I took it!”
“Yeah well,” Harry takes a swig of his drink. “I’m glad you did. You were phenomenal out there. I’m proud of you.”
My heart softens a bit when he says it, so does his face. I can’t take my eyes off him, he made me so mad but I missed him so much. This was the longest we’d been away from each other with no contact.
“I missed you,” he finally says just as I go in on him.
“How did you come here? With Frank? After what you told me?” I missed him too, but I wanted answers. How could someone be in love with their best friend’s girlfriend, and fool both parties by being so casual around them all the time. How could he look at Frank in the face???
“So I guess you didn’t miss me,” Harry tries teasing.
“Obviously I did. Not the point though.” I scowl when Harry smiles. But the smile relaxes his face and my heart skips a beat.
“He doesn’t know. Doesn’t need to know. Just like you didn’t need to until you forced it out of me. I didn’t do anything wrong Y/N. You can’t treat me like I did something awful, I just had feelings for you.”
Had.
“Okay,” I take Harry’s drink from his side since I hadn’t ordered mine yet and down it in one gulp. “You’re alright?”
“Yeah,” Harry takes the empty glass from me. “The space was good.”
“Okay,” I feel slightly offended, but I decide to ignore it. I find Frank by the window and wave him over. He comes back with a grin that I can’t help but mirror.
“So how’s the new job?” I ask him once we all find seats. We’d been talking back and forth online, I knew all about his life without me. He knew all about mine.
“Really good,” Frank lights up. “I finally get my own office! It’s small but nice! I’m getting a good feeling from my team too, it’s good.”
“Good feeling from the team?” Harry smirks at Frank and Frank blushes.
“What?” I look between then. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Frank says quickly. “Harry thinks the team has a lot of good looking people. He’s trying to start a fire.”
“Ah,” I look at Harry but he’s staring at his drink. He was trying to start a fire, but it didn’t bother me. Although Frank and I never shared romantic updates, as time went on, the thought of him moving on felt less and less awful. Even though it was a bit bitter to think about, it was over.
“What’s with the pilot girlfriend? Where’d you find her?” I ask.
“Work conference, she was at the bar.” Harry tells me. “She flies a lot, but she’s funny. I like her.”
“Good,” I try to stay neutral even though a confusing wave of emotions washes up. “Good to know you’re still keeping that string of girlfriends.”
“Speaking of,” Harry ignores me and pulls his phone out of his jacket. “She’s free now. We have plans. It was good seeing you Y/N. We’ll catch dinner later?”
“Oh,” I wasn’t expecting him to leave so soon. “Yeah sure-“
“Yeah we’re here until Thursday.” Frank tells me. “If not tomorrow whenever you’re free.”
“Yeah!” I wasn’t expecting to be alone with Frank tonight.
“If it’s just the two of us,” Frank reaches over to my chair and pulls it closer. “Come in so I can hear you better.”
“Okay!” I felt confused, and lonely. And that was dangerous. I just couldn’t get drunk otherwise I might make bad decisions.
I stop Frank after another drink and tell him I should get home so I wasn’t hungover for tomorrow’s show.
But I’m so tired I fall asleep as soon as I get in bed. I want to sort out what just happened tonight but I save it for the daytime.
***
“You weren’t there for first show drinks!” My castmate calls out the next day. I was in to go over some lines and changes, and apparently mostly everyone had gone out for drinks to celebrate last night. I was too busy catching up my past.
“Had some guests in town,” I mumble.
“Guests?” Nolan asks curiously.
“Some friends came in to see the show,” I try to act casual.
“Just some friends? Flew halfway across the world? They’re just friends?”
“Need me some of those friends.”
“Well,” I had a bunch of nosy castmates. “One’s my ex. The other one is my best friend. Alright?”
“Alright now it gets juicy,” Christa comes up beside me. “I thought this ex was in the past-“
“Please don’t judge me,” I squirm. “Just…we were all catching up that’s all! Now. I’m going to go get ready.”
“Touchy,” I hear someone say as I head to my shared dressing room.
I didn’t want to discuss it with anyone because I didn’t know what to say. My ex came to town and it was dangerously good seeing him. My estranged best friend was also here, oh yeah he’s been in love with me the whole time, and then skipped out early for his girlfriend. Then why show up at all? Ugh. It was making me very confused and I had to focus.
It’s quick touch-ups and placement changes and then I’m on stage for our second show. It’s smoother and there are more people tonight. I loved the exhilarating feeling of being on stage. It was incomparable.
I politely decline Frank’s request for meeting up tonight with him and Harry, so he doesn’t have to play the third wheel. I needed some alone time and doing the shows was tiring.
I take a much needed shower at home and continue thinking about the show, the boys, and why I couldn’t stop obsessing over them!
After Sunday’s show, I agree to dinner with Harry and Frank. Apparently they’d been exploring the city, and Harry had gotten a new tattoo. He proudly displays it at dinner.
“Looks sore,” I appreciate the line design. Frank’s using the toilet and we peruse the menu while we wait.
“A bit but I’m taking care of it,” Harry flips over his menu.
“Your girlfriend isn’t joining?”
“I’m meeting up with her later,” Harry glances at me. “Why? D’you want to meet her or something?”
“N-no?” What the hell. “She probably won’t last long anyway, what’s the point.”
“Really, again Y/N?” Harry puts his menu down.
“What!? You never keep a girlfriend for very long. I meet one, then I’m meeting another.”
“Piss off,” his face turns pink and I’m surprised how easily this is getting under his skin. I always used to tease him about how quickly he turned over girlfriends. “The girlfriend jokes stopped being funny. And at least I’ve got a girlfriend.”
“What the hell?” Now it’s my turn to be offended. “I had a boyfriend. Long-term. As you would know. I think the way you put it…it helped you keep me friendzoned?”
“Why are you being such a bitch?” Harry stands just as Frank approaches our table.
“Hey hey what’s going on here?” His outstretched arm grasps Harry’s shoulder.
“Y/N’s being a bitch,” Harry says as I say “Harry’s a dick.”
“Woah,” Frank tries to get Harry back into his seat. “What happened to you two? You guys never actually fight c’mon Harry-“
“Just let him go,” I say as Harry whips his coat off the back of his chair.
“No! Harry man come on,” Frank steps in his way. “I don’t know why you two are so sensitive these days. What are you guys really fighting about?”
Harry and I make eye contact. He looks away first and just pushes Frank out of his way.
“What the hell?” Frank turns to me. “Y/N, he flew across the pond to see you why are you treating him like shite?”
That gets me, the guilt kicks in. “I don’t-he’s just so-ugh!” I quickly follow Harry’s steps and find him on his phone outside the restaurant.
“What do you want?” Harry asks when he spots me.
“I’m sorry,” I decide to be the bigger person. Harry came all this way, I don’t know why I was acting like this. “Come back to dinner.”
“I already texted my girlfriend—the one I’ll break up with soon anyway. Yeah, we have plans so I’m alright.“
“Harry,” I deserved that. “Really I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know how to be around you right now. We never talked after that confession you dropped on me and-“
“Well who’s fault is that?” Harry bites. And I know I’d struck a nerve. The Nerve. “You force me to tell you something and then you just abandon me afterwards-“
“Only after you abandoned me!” The gloves were off. “After Frank and I broke up I was so alone, you didn’t even text me!”
“I already told you, I was trying to reconcile everything myself!”
“You’re acting like being around me when I was single was a test of your self-control. Like you would just burn to touch me or something what the fuck? If it was so easy for you to be around us when Frank and I were dating, it should’ve been just as easy to support me as a friend. Isn’t that what it comes down to at the end of the day? We’re friends…and you just left me.”
I choke up and turn to face the road so Harry can’t see. The roads are wet with slush and backed up with cars that were permanently home between the yellow lines in this city.
“I’m sorry,” Harry says behind me. “I was a bad friend.”
“You were,” I tell him. I turn back around. “I just…I thought I knew you inside and out. I thought we could read each other’s minds with how well we knew each other. And turns out you were hiding such a big secret. Something like this, i-it’s confusing. I feel like I don’t know you.”
“You really never knew?” Suspicion creeps into his voice. “Never? It was complete news to you?”
“Yes!” I say truthfully. “You’re Frank’s best friend! You set us up. Life isn’t actually like Love, Actually.”
“Well it was for me Y/N I—fuck,” Harry leans back against the brick wall. “I didn’t want to tell you! I just needed some time and then I could go back to being your Harry. You just kept fucking pushing-“
“I wasn’t holding a gun to your head,” I argue. “You could’ve lied. You could’ve come up with any excuse-“
“You’d catch me in any lie I told.”
“Never caught you in the lie you’d been telling us for five years.”
We have a stare off as my words echo between us.
“I never lied.” Harry finally says. His phone chirps and he checks it, I watch as he types out a response.
“Lie of omission. Same thing.”
“You were never supposed to know. I was supposed to get over it.”
“And did you?” I ask before I can think. I don’t know if I even wanted an answer.
“Yeah,” Harry crossed his arms. “I told you I needed time. I missed you yeah, but luckily you left the whole fucking continent. I’m over it now.”
I don’t know what to say. After all that, he’d gotten over it. It felt a bit embarrassing, like I’d made a bigger deal than I needed too. But deep down my loneliness grew. Nobody wanted me. Not even Harry.
“Not like I had a chance anyway yeah?” Harry looks at me so intensely I have to look away. “It was always Frank for you.”
“Well you were never in the picture,” I say. I never knew he felt that way. He doesn’t say anything. “What?!”
“What’s that mean? I was never in the picture?”
“I dunno! I never saw you like that because I never knew you liked me.”
“Wait wait,” Harry leans in. “So you’re saying if I’d told you in the 5+ years you and Frank were dating. You might’ve dumped him to date me? You might have had feelings for your boyfriend’s best friend?”
“No! I…” I don’t know what I was saying. Would I have? I thought he was hot the first night we met. I’d seen him in class, he was smart and attractive. But Frank was my type when I met him so Harry was friendzoned immediately after.
“Now that’s fucked up,” Harry has the balls to be judgemental.
“Don’t judge me! I don’t know what I would do. And I’m only thinking about this after Frank and I have long been broken up. I never thought about you while we were together. Can’t say the same about you!”
Harry’s phone lights up again and he scans the text.
“Whatever Y/N. My girlfriend’s down the road, I’m meeting up with her. Since you don’t care to meet her, I’ll save you the trouble.”
He walks away from me without looking back. I stare after him, watch as he embraces someone and then he’s lost in the crowd. I feel a sob come up but I take a gulp of cold air instead and tamp it down. Harry wasn’t going to have this power over me. Fuck him.
“He’s gone?” Frank asks when I make my way back to him. He’d ordered us wine and I knock back the glass before I answer.
“Yeah, whatever. I apologized, he’s just…a dick.”
“He’s always got a soft spot for you. I’m just surprised. I’m sorry if this was my doing.” Frank looks puzzled. He was so innocent, he didn’t even know the truth. The trust he had was borderline pitiful.
And now I was being rude.
“It’s alright,” I pat his hand. “It’s just you and me again tonight. We’re good company.”
“Yeah,” Frank holds my hand. “But three’s company remember?”
“No so much these days…”
“Yeah,” Frank nods. “But no matter, I do love your company.”
I ignore the L-word and pour myself more wine. We order from the menu but I don’t have much of an appetite. I nibble at my food and take the rest to-go. We wind up at a bar and order more drinks while we continue talking.
Somehow we wind up back to the topic of Harry. And our friend group before we broke up.
“He’s still a serial dater,” Frank says with a candidness that revealed how drunk he was getting. “I don’t know why he’s looking for the perfect girl. I keep telling him the perfect girl is what you make her. But he’s got this bloody idea in his head and no girl lives up to her.”
“Did he tell you that?” I move in closer to hear Frank better, curious if he ever hinted at me.
“Not really,” Frank swishes the Guinness in his glass. “He met someone in uni apparently. But it didn’t work out. I told him he should contact her y’know? But he said she’s moved on, in a relationship. So i said get a fucking move on too right?”
“Mmm,” so he had told a white lie to his best friend.
“Y’know,” Frank lays a hand on my arm. “Y/N, we had something really good. Sometimes I second guess. I feel like I’m an idiot for letting a woman like you go. I still love you. I do. But it’s not that love from before. That wow love.”
It was shitty to hear but I knew what he meant. Our love had gotten comfortable. Like we’d been married 40+ years. When I had enough time to see clearly I’d realized too that wasn’t the kind of love I wanted. I just hadn’t been self-aware enough to see it.
“Yeah,” I say. Frank leans in closer to hear me. “I know what you mean.”
“Maybe if we’re still single in 30 years and we still have that love for each other. We can just get married.”
“Settle?” I ask.
“We’d be fifty!” Frank says. “It’s a good age to settle.”
I laugh. “Fine, deal.”
We link pinkies and maybe it’s the liquor (definitely the liquor) or feeling lonely for months (also the feeling lonely for months) but we lean in the rest of the way. Frank’s lips on mine are familiar, and I ache for more. I pull him deeper into the kiss and he pulls me in until I’m practically in his lap. I feel delirious, touch-starved for too long. All I want was for every inch of clothing to be on the floor.
“Let’s go back to yours,” I say when we take a moment to catch our breaths.
“Really?” Frank asks. “You sure?”
“Just two exes right? Nothing more?”
“Yeah,” Frank goes in for another kiss. “I’d like that.”
He grabs my hand and we stumble out, putting our jackets on against the icy cold as we stumble towards his hotel. If I was more sober maybe I would remember Christa’s warning of not to go backwards but I missed the feeling of being wanted. I missed Frank. And we agreed no strings. What was there to lose?
***
A loud noise wakes me out of my sleep. My eyes are crusted with sleep and I have a raging headache. Where the fuck was I?
I peel my eyes open to blinding light and immediately close them, turning my face into the pillow. The top of my head touches something, a body. The night rushes back just as a voice asks, “what the fuck is this?”
There’s a flurry of movement beside me and I peek open my eye. Harry stands by the TV with barely-concealed rage in his face. Fuck shit!
“Harry!” Frank’s groggy voice calls his best friend’s name with joy. “Good to see you’re back-“
“Is that Y/N? What happened last night? Why is she here?”
I sit up slowly with the comforter wrapped tightly around my torso.
“Uhhh,” Frank looks over at me. He doesn’t look guilty or regretful, somehow he just looks casual. And I sort of love him more for it. “Some fun?!”
Maybe it was casual fun for him, I realize. Meanwhile a bad mix of guilt and disgust churn away inside me. Not because of Frank, but because I’d used him whilst feeling lonely.
Harry looks in my direction and I would be dead on the spot if looks could kill. Who the fuck was he to judge?
“We’re consenting adults Harry,” my voice was rough. “It’s not your concern.”
“Yeah mate,” Frank reaches around for his underpants and dresses himself enough to stand up. “We can talk later about last night, you and me. But Y/N and I were just…finding comfort in the familiar. Right?”
“Yeah,” I answer Frank. “Just some casual fun.”
“Yeah,” Frank rummages in a drawer. “I’m hopping in the shower. Maybe we can all grab breakfast-“
“I should go,” I didn’t have a show tonight but I couldn’t stay here any longer.
“Alright,” Frank shrugs. “We’ll do something later.”
When he shuts the door behind him, the silence in the room becomes suffocating. Harry stands, pinching the bridge of his nose and I try to locate with my eyes where exactly my undergarments are. Ah, of course right by Harry’s feet.
“Um,” I clear my throat as I stand with the comforter wrapped around me. I point to the items. “D’you mind?”
Harry steps back in disgust and I reach for them. When he doesn’t turn around I raise my eyebrow and do a spinning motion with my hand. He rolls his eyes and turns.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” he finally speaks—no, spits out as I slip into my clothes. “How the fuck are you fooling around with Frank? Don’t play with him Y/N!”
“Play with him?” I zip my jeans on and return the comforter to the bed. “Play with him? Frank’s a grown man. We have history. I can bloody well sleep with him if I want!”
“Not like this!” Harry turns, eyes blazing. “Not after what you said yesterday to me!”
“What I said? After you asked a hypothetical? A hypothetical in retrospect? When you have been pining after his girlfriend for five years? Five years! And you have the gall to judge me!”
“I can’t help how I felt!” Harry steps closer. “Stop fucking holding that over me like I’m disgusting to have felt that! I stayed in my lane, you didn’t even know—that’s how much I stayed in my lane.”
He had a point. It was wrong, but on a technicality he didn’t do anything wrong. He takes my silence as a chance to continue chewing me out.
“You hint that you could’ve felt something for me last night and then you come and sleep with him? After everything? What are you doing Y/N? This isn’t you.”
“I’m doing whatever I want! You can’t control whatever I want to do based on whatever fucked up morals you’re using on your high horse!”
“My high horse!” Harry brushes my hand off when I touch his shoulder to keep distance. He was getting too close. “What do you want Y/N? You’re angry that I abandoned you, you’re angry I confessed a secret you pulled out of me, then you’re fucking your ex—my best friend, and judging me for my relationship history?”
“You’re way too close,” I push him gently by the shoulder.
“Oh you don’t like that? Both Frank and Harry close to Y/N again.”
“Fuck off!” I push him again, harder this time and he flicks my hands off.
I shove him with both hands but he’s hard to move. He grabs my wrist. “Is that what you wanted all along? Just both of us trailing after you? Do you get a power trip out if it? Do you want me to kiss you too? Maybe a quickie before Frank gets out of the shower? Is that why you did this? Because I said last night I didn’t think about you like that anymore?”
“Stop!” I finally manage to get my hand out of his grip. He looks down at my hand and then at my face. It drops, and he steps back.
I turn for my coat and catch a glimpse of my face. I was crying.
“Y/N don’t go-“ Harry calls out as I rush to the front door.
“You must forget,” I keep my hand on the doorknob as I tell him one last thing. “He broke up with me. I’m not stringing him along. I’m not sleeping with him to get to you. I…I don’t even know you anymore Harry…I don’t want to see you again. If you’re here ‘til Thursday, stay out of my way.”
I do the walk of shame to the subway and sit on the ride home, crying openly on the plastic seats. Nobody gave a fuck.
I don’t know what had gotten into Harry. But I don’t know why I gave in last night too. I wasn’t at a place emotionally to do this. Even though Harry’s words were his own projections one thing was true. His words last night did hit a chord, I did want to feel wanted. And Frank didn’t deserve that.
I had run away instead of facing my reality. And it had gotten me nowhere.
6 months later:
My flat feels bigger than it did. I also feel bigger in it. Most of my furniture was still in storage, I had movers coming tomorrow.
I was finally back to London this week. I was jet lagged as fuck, and cried at least once a day. I missed the life I made in New York, the family I made. Our show had ended a couple months ago. Somehow I’d booked a small role in a series I’d end up dead in after four episodes. I’d met an amazing guy there but we knew I was always moving back. We didn’t try long-distance, we just agreed it was right people wrong time.
In my remaining time in New York I learned to pivot from running away to facing my past. Frank and I had talked before he left back in January. Even though I told him nothing about what happened I had told him it was probably best we stopped contact for a while. I needed to focus on my present.
And I had. I focused on my career, on learning to be alone and exploring why I needed to be wanted. Learning to be happy by myself.
It was 6 months but it felt like years with how transformational it had been. New York city had changed my life but London was calling me back home.
I’d seen a couple friends since. One of them being from uni had told me about Harry. Apparently he had moved to Australia while his company was setting up offices there. A small part of me had held onto the hope of bumping into him in the city but I let it go when I hear the news. Maybe Harry and I were just going to live separate lives.
We never spoke after that day. It was hard to reconcile his actions with who I knew him to be. Over time I recognized we were both confused and hurting.
I loved him. It was simple. Maybe I always loved him. But I think it was a love that wasn’t meant to be. I didn’t hold out hope for him, and I made sure to minimize my heartache when I thought about the friendship I lost.
That love wasn’t the same way I loved Frank. With Harry I really did feel we were twin flames, we knew each other right to the darkest parts of out souls. With Frank we fit right. It was mutual respect and love.
I had dinner plans with Frank next week, the first time we were talking since January too. I heard from my friend he had a girlfriend, he seemed serious about her. I was really happy for him.
I ease into London life slowly. I had a few roles on small sets that I popped in and out of for work. I met up with friends and visited my family in the country. Summer sweltered on and the city welcomed me back home with a steady hum. Despite my initial feelings of growing out of all my friendships, I slowly surround myself by loved ones again and find my flow.
Autumn creeps in and I welcome the cool breeze on early set days. I drink countless coffees and grow into my own skin. I book more roles and finally feel secure, it feels amazing.
An old friend invited me to a Halloween party. Costumes not optional she texts.
Another friend and I decide to go as Marvel characters. I dress up as the Scarlett Witch
“Is that Y/N Y/L/N gracing us with her presence?” An old friend calls me out when we get there. It’s easy to get lost amongst old friends and everyone has a million questions about show business. When it gets overwhelming I excuse myself and take a lap, admiring the creativity in everyone’s costumes.
“Y/N you made it!” I look closer at the man in the makeup and realize it was Frank.
“Hey!” I wrap my arms around him. “You made it too!”
“Barely,” he points his thumb at the gorgeous woman beside him. She’s dressed as Rapunzel.
“You made him Flynn,” I say.
“Yeah!” She holds up her frying pan. “You must be Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you!”
“That makes me nervous,” I grimace but we go in for a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you though! You two should win best couple costume!”
“This hair gel is making my scalp itchy. Like crazy.” Frank goes to touch his hair but his Rapunzel slaps his hand away which gets me laughing hysterically. They really embodied the characters.
“Hey,” Frank says once we get serious. “I dunno if you’ve seen him yet. Harry’s here though.”
“I-oh,” I catch my breath. I wasn’t expecting that. “He’s not…Australia?”
“No no, he came back a couple weeks ago. They’re done whatever project they were doing. So…you haven’t seen him?”
“No,” I glance around. “I don’t know if I want to. We haven’t talked since…”
“Just talk to him,” Frank says, suddenly intense. He grabs my arm and moves to the side, mouthing something to his girlfriend. Seeing him with her, I feel so distant from the girl who dated him I’m surprised we did for so long. “Y/N both of you need to make up. Look at us, we broke up after a long term relationship and we’re friends again. There’s nothing that you two can’t get over.”
“It’s not that simple,” I couldn’t out Harry so I mince my words. “Harry said some vile things. And…he’s not who I thought he was for all those years. It’s different!”
“Y/N,” Frank takes a deep breath. He looks to the side, and I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “I love the both of you. We’re all best mates, we used to do everything together. Three’s still company! And I want to see both of you happy-“
“I am happy-“
“Yeah but Harry’s a sore spot. Right?”
I roll my eyes. Of course we dated for so long, he knew how to read me.
“Exactly. Listen I know…I know it’s weird. We dated. And Harry’s my best friend. But whatever you two want to be, as long as the two of you are happy-“
“What?” Was he saying what I think he was saying? “What are you saying?”
“You don’t think I’m an idiot do you?” Frank asks and I shrug. He huffs before continuing. “I see the way he looks at you Y/N. I know he…it was weird at first. When I realized maybe my best friend liked my girlfriend. But that shit happens all the time. I confronted him once. He said he admired you a lot but it was nothing more than that. I let it go—I think it was easier for me to believe him than call him out on his lie and potentially ruin our friend-“
“So you know why we’re fighting?”
“Not exactly. But I guessed after I saw how angry Harry was. When he found us in bed…I put the pieces together. Sort of felt like it was my fault. That I was the reason you two were fighting. A part of me wasn’t ready to give you up though. I’m glad you made us take space.”
“Yeah…” There are so many thoughts running through my head and it’s hard to turn them into words. I just nod along.
“So you’ll try?” Frank asks.
“I-yeah. I’m just going to…step away” I pat Frank on the arm and walk away. I needed a quiet corner. I pass his girlfriend along the way and we smile cordially. I was happy for Frank. But I can’t believe he knew. Not the whole time, but deep down he did. Was I the only one who didn’t???
The way Harry looked at me. I remember. I never put much thought into it. We were best friends after all. But all along he had loved me from afar. And been there like a friend. It was stupid and crazy that he didn’t just cut me off to move on, but it was also sweet. Pathetically sweet.
I walk out of the flat and find the stairwell. There was finally some air to breathe; I drop my head onto my knees to take some deep breaths. What was I supposed to do now? I knew I had to see Harry sooner or later now that he was back in town. But what if he changed too? What if he has a girlfriend? Did I even want to risk our friendship and try to be something more?
What friendship, I remember. We had nothing right now. Our relationship was in shambles. We hadn’t spoken in 9 months.
“Ugh!” I shout and it echoes in the stairwell. I dust my costume off and open the door back to the hall but I come face to face with Doctor Strange instead. Well, Doctor Strange’s medallion.
“Oh. Hiya,” I saw awkwardly. Harry looked amazing. Even in his costume. He’s grown more handsome in our time away.
“Scarlet Witch,” he looks me up and down.
“Did you know? Is that why you’re Strange?”
“Honestly no,” he steps back. “I had a cape at home, and found a robe so I just went with it…”
“You just had a cape at home? Casually?”
“Yeah,” by now Harry is smiling and staring at me. We were having a casual conversation but his eyes were saying something else. He was really glad to see me. “I’m so glad I bumped into you.”
“In the stairwell,” I arch an eyebrow. “A bird named Frank didn’t tell you did he?”
“Hm,” he pretends to think before taking a Strange pose. “I looked at the possibilities of seeing you tonight and-“
“You’re such a nerd,” I put his arm down that’s waving circles in the air.
We fall into another silence and it’s a bit awkward. But my words are too far away to grasp any, I didn’t know what to say. There was too much and nothing at all suddenly.
“You went to Australia,” I settle on prying what he’s been up to.
“Yeah, yeah!” His eyes light up as he tells me about it. Apparently he’d gone with that girlfriend from New York—turns out she was Australian. They lived together for a bit but her schedule made it hard to go steady. I glean this info while he tells me about what he was doing there and how different the lifestyle was. “It surprised me. I really liked it. I think you would have too.”
“Seems lovely,” I smile. “You glow when you talk about it.”
Harry blushes. “Yeah I…it was the step away I needed. There’s a lot of bloody space in Australia, I just felt so free there.”
“I’m happy for you,” I say honestly. Harry actually seemed brand new. I ache a little that he’d done all this changing; what if I was a castaway in his big change.
“Yeah. Thanks.” He smiles, his dimples make an appearance. “M’glad to be home though.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Me too. I love America but I’m home on British soil.”
That makes Harry laugh. Then more silence. Jeez what could I say. This was so awkward!
“Should we go back in?” Harry nods to the door. I hesitate, I thought we were going to talk talk. Isn’t that why he found me out here?
Unless I really was in Harry’s past; he didn’t think we were worth reconciling. Maybe we were just going to be friendly now. Oh that hurts.
“Why not,” I walk ahead so I can mask my expression into something pleasant. I was Scarlet bloody Witch. Turns out Harry wasn’t the Vision I thought he was going to be. I was going to be fine.
“So you seeing anyone?” Harry asks casually as we walk back in. The noise is louder and I barely make his question out.
“Ah no,” I can’t look him in the eye. “Not right now.”
No comment from him. Oh my god I had to get away from this constant awkward energy.
“I’ll catch up with you later then? I see some friends there I haven’t spoken to…”
Harry looks to where I point. His brows furrow for a brief moment before he slips on an easy smile. “Talk later!”
I look for him a little later after I’ve cleared my head. I see him with Frank’s girlfriend. Was he in love with her now? The thought flashes in my brain so quickly I’m surprised by the emotion it pulls up. What was wrong with me!?
I had to slow down on the drinks. And maybe this headpiece was shrinking my brain cells. Why did I think such a horrible thought after Harry was so nice to me?
You’re jealous.
I couldn’t be though. Could I? This wasn’t the Harry I knew. How could I be?
I move towards where I remember the toilets to be. I could get out of this headpiece, splash some water on my face. Factory reset my stupid brain.
“Oh-‘scuse me!” I bump into someone—Harry coming out of the bathroom.
“Harry I-“ I turn back to where I swear I just saw him.
“Frank dropped cream cheese on my cape that menace,” Harry shows me the spot. “It barely came out.”
“Did you dab at it?” I inspect it. “Let’s see if we can get it out.”
He turns back and I follow him into the bathroom. I close the door and suddenly the loud noise muffles into a quieter environment. It emphasizes our silence.
“The cheese is like, in the threads.” I use my finger to scrub the cloth. “Frank can be so clumsy.”
“He’s like a child with finger foods,” Harry says. His voice rumbles through his chest to me. It’s then I realize, he was nearly touching it to my back—I’d draped his cape over the both of us.
I blink up at him and he must realize because he steps back. “Sorry, let me take this off. Might be easier.”
“No that’s alright,” I say but I take it from him happily detached.
He watches me clean it after offering assistance and being rejected. I was used to spot cleaning things out of my costumes, I’d gotten good at it.
“Here you go,” I give it to him after dabbing it as dry as I could.
“Wow, thank you.” He examines the spot. “That’s nearly gone.”
“Nearly?” I squint at it and he laughs.
“Yeah it’s gone, you’re the wizard!” He extends the cape over my shoulders.
“Actually it should be sorcerer,” I say. “I’ve already got a cape!”
“But it’s so short!”
“Fine,” I pull it tighter around my shoulders and the comfort of Harry it carried. “I’ll keep this on! See ya!”
He laughs but when I go for the door he stops me. “Wait. Y/N wait. Wait. Is…is this how we’re going to be?”
“Huh?” I turn back to him. “Is this how we’re going to be??”
“Yeah like, polite. And you trying to escape me every ten minutes.”
Oh. He noticed.
“Uhm, no?”
“Is that a question?”
“Well,” I bite my lip. I was nervous suddenly, facing this very confident and confrontational and cute as hell Harry. “How do you want to be?”
“How we used to? Best friends?”
“I mean, can we? After everything?”
“I hope so,” Harry runs a hand down his face. “I was too proud the last time you saw me. I said some stuff I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
“No I’m sorry,” I confess, relieved to be able to. “If you were too proud, then I was too confused. I didn’t know what I wanted. I lashed out too, and some of the stuff you said was right.”
“Was it? Say that again please?” Harry gives me a cheeky grin.
“Shut up!“ I hit him on the chest playfully. “That isn’t going to get a repeat.”
“Too bad,” Harry pretends to look upset.
We fall into silence once more but it’s not as awkward. The room is small we just sort of study each other.
“So, friends again?” Harry holds his hand out.
“C’mere you idiot,” I take the step forward and wrap my arms around his waist. I fit here. Right here. Oh my god I missed this.
“Y/N,” Harry squeezes me. “I miss us.”
“I know,” I squeeze him back. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad you forgave me,” he whispers back to me.
“I’m glad you forgave me,” I whisper back.
A knock on the door breaks up apart. But we stay arm’s length from one another.
“I can tell you’ve changed,” he taps a knuckle to my nose. “I’m proud of you Y/N. I saw you on TV when I came back. I jumped up so quickly I scared my mum.”
“Aw.” I try not to blush. “You’ve changed too. I like this calm and collected and mature Harry. He’s cool!”
“I was always calm and collected and mature,” Harry says as I open the door. The person on the other side looks between both of us but we’re too busy bantering to notice.
“You think burping at me is funny.”
“It is!” Harry wraps both his arms around my shoulder from behind as we walk.
“So you haven’t actually changed,” I look up at him behind me. “Good to know.”
“Look at us,” Harry says. “Two nexus beings finding each other again.”
“We’ve just altered the timeline becoming friends again!” I laugh.
We bump into Frank then, and he looks visibly relieved that we made up. I can tell by the way he studies us he’s trying to figure out if anything more happened but as Harry keeps his arm draped around me, and teases me like before, I watch his expression clear as he realizes we just made up as friends.
It’s not disappointing. I missed Harry more than I thought, just being able to laugh with him means more to me than any kiss would. I stare at him longer than I should, and when he holds my hand as we leave the party my stomach flutters. But I don’t think too hard about it. He was back in my life. I was happy.
2 months later:
“I brought the good stuff,” Harry holds up three bottles of wine in my doorway.
“Then you better hurry in!” I open the door wider to let him in.
“These are for the lovely host,” Harry hands me a bouquet of flowers when I meet him in the kitchen.
“Oh my god,” I bury my face in them. “These are so lovely. Thank you H.”
I lean up to kiss his cheek. These were the little things that always took me by surprise when Harry did them ever since we started talking again. It reminded me that he did some growing while we were apart.
Not that the old Harry wouldn’t have got me flowers. But he wouldn’t have thought to bring them for me for our belated Christmas party. It was hard to explain, the changes were subtle but Harry was growing into a man. Finally.
“What are you smiling about?” Harry asks.
“I’m making fun of you in my head,” I tell him as I bring out a vase for the flowers.
“Stop that,” he surveys my dinner table. “Or I’ll take those flowers back.”
“No,” I hold them close. “Can you help out with the roast? It just needs to be taken out of the oven.”
“Yeah!” Harry helps me finish up the dinner. It was the week between Christmas and New Year’s and I’d wanted to throw a Christmas dinner for my friends. He agreed to come early for this, but we finish quicker and have a half hour to spare.
“So Y/N,” Harry says suddenly serious after we sit for a break. I still had to get into my outfit but I had to catch my breath first.
“So Harry,” I joke to ease the serious undertone that had creeped in. I stretch my legs out on the sofa. Harry sits on the floor beside me, so I turn to my side so we’re at eye-level.
“Did you hear about Frank?” Harry picks at a stray fibre on the cushion.
“Frank? No? What happened?!”
“Ah,” he leans back and closes his eyes. He says more to himself: “Of course.”
“The suspense is killing me here! Is he cancelling or something?”
I’d only invited Harry, Frank and his girlfriend, my neighbour, and 3 others. Already my neighbour cancelled for being sick. I had too much food for another cancellation.
“He’s engaged Y/N,” Harry finally looks at me. “He proposed on Christmas Eve.”
“Oh!” I stare at Harry, frozen as a roller coaster of emotions rides through my system in 10 seconds. It had been 5 days. “Wha-why didn’t he tell me?”
“I dunno, maybe he was going to tell you in person today?”
“Did he tell you in person?”
“No,” he places a hand on my leg. “He sent a picture. But maybe it’s just given your guys’ history-“
“But we’re old news. History. Literal history. Does he think I’ll be offended?”
“Are you offended?”
I pause. “That he didn’t tell me yeah a bit.”
“Y/N,” Harry shakes my leg. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah I-“ I think about it before I answer. I wasn’t jealous. Frank and I were over. His new girlfriend clearly made him happy—he found what he wanted.
“What?” Harry asks gently.
“I’m not jealous or anything. I don’t care but a small part of me looks back on us and is like…if he wanted to he would. Right?”
“Half your relationship happened when you two were students,” Harry knew what I was talking about.
“That’s true. But we had years after too. It just makes me think how long we held onto each other because we didn’t know better. It took him less than a year to propose to her!”
“Don’t look at it like wasted time-“
“I’m not!” I reassure him. “It was some of the greatest moments of my early 20s with the three of us. I guess when you know, you know.”
“Yeah,” Harry had started rubbing my leg to soothe me. “Good. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah. M’good thanks for telling me beforehand. You’re a good friend.”
If he hadn’t, I know it would have gotten awkward. Because even though I truly was happy for them, it was a bit awkward to find out and react live like that.
“Just pretend it’s the first time you heard when he tells you?” Harry asks.
“Yeah I won’t blow your cover.” I smile. He doesn’t smile back.
“You’re really over him?” he asks instead. “It doesn’t bother you at all?”
I only realize how seriously he is when I look at him, he still believed I was hung up over Frank?
“Harry what? You know I’m over that. We broke up over a year ago-“
“Yeah but when we came to see you-“
“Oh my god that was just two exes finding comfort in each other! We were both obviously lonely. And confused probably.”
I laugh but Harry doesn’t. His hand on my leg stops and so I lay mine on top of his.
We both know why Harry’s so invested, he’s showing me he still cares. But neither of us make a move. I don’t know why we were equally scared, but we stay that way.
Until my phone buzzes. We jump apart at the sudden sound and I scramble for it to help with the obvious tension that had just filled the air.
“Everyone’s nearly here!” I get up. “I need to get ready! Can you let them in when they arrive?”
“Sure. Yeah, get ready.” Harry waves me off. I rush to my room and slip into the sweater dress I’d left out. I do a quick mascara and blush as I hear the guests arrive. When I come out everyone has a glass of wine and I greet them all with a hug.
“I’m so happy everyone could make it!” I say to the small group. I point out the appetizers and get to mingling. Everyone gets along well and I happily host with some help from Harry. I can sense Frank and his girlfriend, or now fiancé, eyeing me.
At the dinner table everyone tucks in. The drinks flow and so does the conversation. Until Frank clears his throat.
“We have some news,” Frank says. We all look expectantly at him and he holds up his fiancé’s hand. “We got engaged.”
“Oh my gosh! Congratulations!” I gush, with just enough enthusiasm that I can see them visibly relax. Everyone fawns over the ring. I get up to hug them both and say another congrats. I make eye contact with Harry as I sit back down and he anchors me. He was the reason things stay awkward-free. I loved him for that.
The night continues and by the time it’s midnight mostly everyone is drunk. They file out slowly and I’m left with the usual three. Well, four now.
“So when did you tell her?” Frank asks when his fiancé excuses herself before they leave.
“What?” Harry asks.
“Tell me what?” I act equally confused.
“C’mon you two. Harry you told her before we came right?”
“Tell me what?” I ask.
“My news! My engagement! I’m not crazy I know you told her.”
“I didn’t say a word mate,” Harry swears. “Why would I tell her your news?”
Frank looks at me suspiciously but I put on my best innocent face. He shakes his head when we hears his fiancé come back and they leave with a final hug. As soon as the door closes behind them, Harry and I break out into a fit of giggles.
“D’you think he bought it?” Harry whispers.
“I don’t think so.” I whisper back.
“Why are we whispering?”
“I don’t know!” this sends me into another round of laughter.
“Harry I need to get hydrated and go to bed,” I wipe my tears away when I get ahold of myself. “I’m losing it.”
“Here,” Harry gets up from where we’d crouched down to and helps me up. I lean into his chest as we have one last chuckle.
“You get yourself cleaned and I’ll clean up here.”
“No!” I wave his help away. “I’ll clean tomorrow. You can pour another drink if you want. But don’t worry about the mess!”
“Just get in there,” Harry pushes me to the bathroom and I don’t have any fight left in me. I can hear him loading the dishes and I thank the universe for giving me someone like him.
By the time I scrub my day off and change into cozy flannels, Harry had loaded the dishes, put away any leftover food that hadn’t been given away, and wiped down the counters.
“You. Are. An angel.” I put my hands on either side of his face. “I love you.”
The words come out quicker than I could process. We both freeze.
“Uhh,” he coughs out a laugh. I drop my hands. “I am an angel aren’t I?”
“Tonight yeah,” so we were going to play the avoidance card.
It’s not like I’d never said those words to him before. I’d said it a million times. But not since before.
“I’ll just use the toilet myself, before I go.”
“Oh yeah,” I move aside so he can go past. I didn’t want him to go, yet things had taken a turn for the awkward and I felt an anxious energy flood me.
I pick at the dinner table, gathering the spare decorations I’d placed. Giving my hands something to do because Harry was going to come out any second now and I’d have to look him in the face after the moment we just had.
What was wrong with us? We obviously liked the other person! No one was making the first move and everything was just suspended in jello!
That does it, I decide. I was going to give him a piece of my mind!!
“Y/N,” Harry had come out while I was lost in thought. He stands on the other side of the table.
“Are you leaving?” I accuse.
“I was.” He licks his lips and looks away. “But I can’t leave like this. Look.”
He walks around to me and holds me hand. “You know I love you. With my whole heart. I don’t know why I was so weird back then.”
He cups my face, the same way I did before and my mental declarations fall like the last leaves of November. “I love you.”
An emotion sticks in my throat and I try to push it down to ask him as what? What did he love me as? I needed to know. But it’s too big to go down, and my eyes well with tears instead.
“C’mon,” he wipes a stray tear with his thumb. “I’ve said it a million times. You’re not crying are ya?”
“No,” I say as more tears streak down my face. My lip juts out and it makes Harry laugh. He wraps me into him.
“When did you become such a baby?”
“I’m not a baby!” I say into his chest.
“Shh you big baby,” he pats my hair down and it makes me giggle. He pulls me away and grins, he looks extraordinarily beautiful in this moment and I feel my breath catch. “We got a laugh out of her!”
“Leave me alone,” I cross my arms.
His smile fades. “D’you want me to?”
“No!” I hug him again. “I like it here.”
“Y/N-“ he hesitates. I lift my face to look up, resting my chin on his chest. “I can’t lose you again.”
He was rejecting me. He wanted to stay friends. Oh. The tears threaten up again and I take a step back. “Oh.”
“No no,” he pulls me back. “Listen to me. I can’t lose you again. D’you understand?”
His serious gaze disrupts a migration of butterflies somewhere inside me. When did my Harry become this handsome gentleman?
When you let him go.
I battle my thoughts as they try sabotage the good thing in front of me.
“What?” Harry cups my cheek. He knew the internal battle going on of course.
“I don’t,” I close my eyes against his gentle touch. “I don’t want to hold you back.”
“Are you mental? You make me want to be better Y/N. I wouldn’t be who I am without you.”
“Really?” I ask. His forehead touches mine.
“Really,” he swipes another tear that had fallen without permission. “You’re everything to me Y/N. I want you to be around all the time. You don’t know how many times when I was in Australia I wanted to pick up my phone and send you something I knew you would find funny. It was painful every time I could. I don’t ever want to lose you ever again.”
“Me neither,” I blubber. I felt the same way when I was in America.
“You’re crying a lot for a nice moment,” Harry teases. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes!” I cry/laugh. “I don’t know why I’m being so emotional!”
He presses his lips gently to my cheeks. I’m light-headed as his lips move down to my own. I’ve never felt more complete than in this moment. I’ve never felt more whole in my life. It feels like coming home after a long journey, like finding your person in a crowd and saying ah there you are. It was better than being on stage with the sound of applause deafening your eardrums. It was everything.
1-ish year later:
Harry clutches my hand as we rush to the church, running late because he had woken up with a blemish that he’d made worse the more he tried to take care of it. I tried not to get annoyed, instead I lent him some makeup and we panicked all the way here.
“Has it started?” Harry shouts back at me as we climb the steps. I check the time, by some miracle we were only 6 minutes late.
“Probably!” I say. I was disgustingly out of breath but Harry waits for me at the top. We enter the lobby and peek into the ceremony. Frank stands up front but there’s buzzing in the pews. “Oh thank god!”
“Perfect place to do it,” Harry jokes as he opens the door and we walk in. Frank looks relieved when he spots his best man walking to him. He waves at me and I mouth good luck to him.
I wish Harry was beside me as the ceremony starts. Frank tears up as his bride walks up the aisle and it’s crazy to me how I once upon a time thought that would be me walking up to him one day. Harry catches my eye and squints, I was tearing up. Because now I imagined walking up to him one day. The true love of my life.
Vows are exchanged and the newlyweds dance down the aisle. We see them off and when I turn to Harry he kisses me with a ferocious passion.
“Woah,” I pat his tie when I catch my breath. “What was that for?”
“I just love you so much,” he kisses my forehead. “I’m going to marry you one day.”
I melt at his words, it had been over a year since we got together but I fell more and more in love with him every day. I can’t believe he was right there all along and I found him so late.
“Let’s get in there and do it now,” I say mock-seriously. But Harry believes me.
“Really? Now?!”
“No,” I peck his cheek. “But I’m just waiting for the question. Then I will happily marry you anywhere.”
“There’s a question?” Harry plays stupid.
“I’ll let you figure that one out!” I walk down the steps towards our ride. We had a reception to get to. On time.
The reception is at a gorgeous venue nearby that sparkles on every surface. I congratulate the newlyweds a million times and watch my drink since I told Harry he didn’t have to drive. He was a funny drunk, very affectionate, and I didn’t mind.
“There’s my future wife,” Harry locates me near the end of the night.
“We were just dancing together,” I put my arm around him.
“Itsa last slow song,” he pulls me to the dancefloor where all the couples sway with each other. I put my arms around Harry and do the same b
“You’re pretty drunk,” I whisper in his ear.
“I know. Last drink.” He slurs. “Y’know I love you s’much. I’m keeping you forever.”
“That’s a relief,” I tease. “I thought we had an expiry.”
“No!” Harry pulls back enough to look at me. “Never!”
“I know,” I twirl the hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s forever.”
“Yeah,” Harry gazes at me lovingly and I admire him the same.
“I’m so lucky to have you,” I tell him. “I’m so lucky you stuck around.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Harry slurs.
“Let’s dance,” I rest my head on his chest and we continue swaying. His heart beats steadily underneath and I’m so grateful for him. I feel like going back just to tell myself that I would be dancing romantically with my best friend at my boyfriend’s wedding in a few year’s time. That everything I knew was about to crumble underneath me but I would build it back up stronger than ever. I wish I could tell her to not be afraid, two was company and it would be the best kind yet.
#harry styles fic#writingsfromhome#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#fic#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry stylesxreader#friends to lovers#i needed some fluff even though i can’t do pure fluff#without some angst#yes I’m seeing a therapist#🥲😅#i’m kind of attached to this one#lol
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The Ex-Text
Epilogue: what’s next
A/N: this isn’t so much an epilogue than a part two but it just fit better to call it one lol. But it’s the final instalment in the Ex-Text so make sure you read the first two. As always, ty for reading this far <3
Prologue (text) / Main (ex) / Epilogue (what’s next)
—————————
It was a bit of a wet morning but I was determined to have a good day. And it’s like the world listened because by the time I got my morning coffee the sun had decided to kiss my skin hello. It was a Friday, I had a weekend of bachelorette festivities—our last girls weekend before Taz officially married next weekend. And I was going to a job I loved after changing roles last year, and getting promoted to the position I’d been chasing after.
It had been a year and 7 months since the night I decided to change. It wasn’t linear by any means but I had a better sense of who I was and what I wanted nowadays. I stuck up for myself, and felt less end-of-the-world if someone didn’t like me. I wasn’t perfect all the time, but things were better.
I’m so excited for tomorrow, I read Taz’s text in the lift up. I’d set up a spa day for the bridesmaids, and then a potentially rowdy evening across a few bars with a scavenger hunt. As the maid of honour I took my duties very seriously. I was friends with most of the invitees either from childhood or through Taz—there were a handful of girls from high school that Taz and I were friends with who I hadn’t seen in a while. It was going to be an interesting weekend.
***
“So YN,” Taz’s cousin slides in beside me wiggling her phone. This was our second pub on the list and she had the lead for the scavenger hunt by two. The group had enough drinks that everyone was loud and comfortable even though not everyone knew each other well. “How far along are you?”
“I’m not playing,” I made the game. I tell her that.
“Oh c’mon!” She looks at the girls sitting near us. “You’re just trying to get out of some of these! Like kiss a stranger, or find a way to write your number on someone’s arm? You’re cheeky with these—find someone to do a musical number with—“
“That’s how I know I’m not winning the hunt,” Felicity says. “I’m shite at dancing.”
“No you was so good back in school,” Taz giggles as she catches up. “Dots was even better, remember when she went with that wanker to the year 11 dance and oh what was his name-“
“I heard my name,” Dots pokes her head through. “You lot are loud.”
“Have you heard them?” Taz’s cousin points to the other end of the table. Someone’s getting a shot poured directly into their mouth.
“Taz are you participating in the hunt?” Felicity waves her phone that has the app pulled up.
“I’m getting married in a week so…only the PG ones.”
“No one’s going to say anything if you do number 7,” Dots winks. I smile uncomfortably, remembering the grip the peer pressure these girls had in high school that lead me to some pretty bad decisions.
“Taz is too much of an angel to do anything like that,” I try to swoop in for her.
“Then you should do it for her.” Dots says, her eyes alight with mischief. “Since you’re not playing. That way the bride-to-be has a chance to win.”
“Yeah!” Felicity jumps right into the plan eagerly. “It’s not like you’re dating someone right?”
“I…”
“I don’t need to win that bad,” Taz tries to come to my rescue but the plan is too enticing for these girls.
“Oh yeah YN you never got back on the horse after…Ethan?” Taz’s cousin mouths the word like he was going to appear if she said it too loud.
“No it’s…” I’m tempted to lie. To look good. Everyone leans in to hear the end of my sentence and I blurt out. “It’s complicated.”
“Ooh what’s that mean?” They move in closer and I feel crushed. I avoid Taz’s eye, she knew I hadn’t dated in forever. Not for lack of wanting, but I found opening myself up to new people was more exhausting than it used to be. Being in one long term relationship after the other, then taking a huge break, now dating felt like learning to walk again.
“Um,” I try to backtrack on the lie. “It’s just complicated but technically I’m not dating someone right now!”
“Wait so you’re not bringing a plus one to the wedding?” Someone asks.
“Well I-“
“You should invite the guy! If he comes you know he’s serious and if he doesn’t…”
“Yeah!” Felicity grabs my arm. “Invite him! I want to see Ethan’s rebound that manwhore.”
“It’s not really a rebound when it’s been years,” Taz says. I agree, but I’m also touched by the vehemence in Fel’s voice when she talks about Ethan.
“Well screw the guy. If he’s complicated, you can kiss anyone you want at any bar you want. So?”
“YN,” Taz’s murmur catches my attention. She shoots me a warning, I had to put my foot down. Not give in because I wanted to please. I should but with this many eyes on me I chicken out.
“Fine. But maybe pick number 7 at the next bar, this group looks uni aged.” I feel Taz’s disappointment beside me.
“So? I had a thing with a 21 year old last summer,” Fels shrugs.
“Ew. Didn’t you feel like his mother?” Taz asks and I laugh, a bit of the pent up energy releasing with it.
“No, he was a big boy. He knew how to take care of himself.” She grins. The topic shifts to her and I think I’m forgotten until the hour hits and we decide to move places.
“Okay YN I know you’ve mapped this all out but if we’re trying to get you a good number 7 I know a better place where I used to live. Last summer actually.” Felicity links her arm through mine as we walk out.
“We know how well that went,” Taz’s cousin teases.
“Exactly! May I? Girls! Change of location on the third cuz Taz has to win tonight-“
“I really don’t want the gift card that badly.” Taz says but it’s drowned out by everyone cheering. God we were all well on our way to drunk.
***
“That one,” someone whispers to me. She points to a tall blonde with a cardigan on.
“Mmm too bookish,” someone else says. Somehow the whole group was debriefed on the way over that I was to have the most epic kiss with a stranger for Taz’s sake. Because even though she had three other missing items on her list, doing this would make her win.
“Well that creep over there just bought me shots,” Taz slurs. We look to where she points, it’s a guy who had been a potential kisser. The group crosses him out as well as the line item on her list. Now she was down to 2 to win.
Felicity had led us to her old local area, one I hadn’t spent much time in but sounded familiar. Even though I’d planned the pub crawl to the detail I had to let go of the control and go with the crowd.
“Okay YN you have to do this now,” Dot says. “You can kill two birds, then Taz is free to win.”
“Doesn’t anyone else want to win?” I ask pathetically.
“No!” The group encourages me. “You need this too YN!”
“Him,” Fels points to a guy sitting at the bar. He’s talking with the bartender who’s laughing at whatever he’s saying. “Look, he’s funny and nice enough to talk to the bartender. He’ll give you a nice smooch.” She kisses my cheek with this statement.
“Oh he’s cute,” Taz says and I glare at her.
“You can’t even see his face.” I tell her.
“Yeah but his hair is nice,” she rubs my cheek where Felicity kissed me. “And his shirt stretches nicely over-“
“Okay bride-to-be,” she was such a traitor.
“What? A girl can’t look?” Taz asks. She wraps an arm around my shoulder and leans in. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know,” but with all these girls waiting on me to I didn’t have another choice. I just had to get over it. Plus I hadn’t kissed someone in over a year so I wasn’t complaining if he was cute. And Taz was right, from the back he was cute. “Fine.”
I step away from the crowd and they all gasp. They get ready for the show and so do I. I clear my throat, push my shoulders back—my cleavage looked great in this dress so I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt, and head over. My stomach drops with nerves but I take a deep breath and tap the bloke on the shoulder.
My lungs deflate like a released balloon when the face looking back at me is Harry. Harry the ex-texter.
He blinks, then blinks some more. Meanwhile I stand there staring.
“YN!?” Harry turns the barstool to face me. His neck must’ve started cramping.
“I-uh,” I glance back at the girls and they’re all pretending not to stare but it’s a bad attempt. They’re staring.
“It’s you-I-“ Harry stands up, it seems like he was going in for a hug but he thinks better of it almost immediately. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi,” I say lamely. I feel the shame of the last time we spoke. That YN feels like someone else. Someone people manipulated easily. Like him.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” he laughs nervously and his eyes roam up and down my body. He runs his fingers through his hair and looks back. “I think there’s a massive group of women there staring at us? Have you rounded up a gang to kick my-“
“Ignore them,” I quickly take a seat beside where he was sitting. He takes one last glance at them and sits back down.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“No no,” my mind is occupied. I couldn’t kiss him. This was the worst person in the world to have picked, why was he here damnit?
Then I remember why this area was familiar to me. His address was only a street or so over, this is close to where I’d picked him up that day.
“Actually, I’ll do a a vodka soda.”
He orders for me while I try to sort out my thoughts.
“So are you in a cult? Am I some sort of blood sacrifice?” Harry throws another glance over his shoulder.
I finally look at him. He looked good, of course he did. He’d decided to do something about those razor blades—he’d thrown them out; he sports a mustache and stubble. His hair is styled, nicer than it was when I met him. His eyes are murky waters and I don’t look at them too long. I spot the gym bag by his feet, so that’s why his shirt fit so well…
Omg.
“Actually,” I consider what he’d just said. “You’re not too far off.”
“Wait really?” His eyes bug out. “You’re joking.”
“Well the cult is actually a bridal party,” I say. “And the blood sacrifice is a number on our scavenger hunt.”
“Oh,” it dawns on him. “I’m fresh blood. You already have my number, wait is that why you came up to me?”
“No I actually didn’t even know it was you,” I say honestly. “They picked you out from the crowd.”
“Really?” Harry looks back, now intrigued that this group of women found him fit enough to pick out.
“Don’t let it get to your head,” I roll my eyes. My drink had landed in front of me so I take a sip.
“Well? You have my number right?” When I just nod he laughs. “Wait. You need something more.”
“Well obviously I’m going to lose this scavenger hunt,” I scowl. “Don’t worry.”
He chuckles and looks to the front, meanwhile I try not to squirm. Being around him wasn’t the best feeling, especially on my way to drunk. I felt hot with embarrassment and yet the intrigue of who he really was still stayed with me. And it stays because even now, despite not trusting him or liking him very much I felt like I had room to just be myself. He was an easy presence despite his baggage. Or maybe because of it.
It seems we were good at silences because we drink without saying a word. It’s like our brains are catching up to our sudden run-in.
“How have you been?” Harry asks quietly.
Fine, I’m going to say automatically. But I answer truthfully. “Alright. Life’s been better but also nobody’s tricked me into going to a cheating ex’s wedding so life’s been a lot worse!”
He laughs awkwardly and clinks his bottle against my glass. “Yeah. I deserve that.”
“Yeah. How about you?”
“Better. A lot better.”
“Good to hear,” I say genuinely. Despite my grievances it was nice to hear he was past whatever he’d been in when we first met.
“I think about you often,” he says while still looking forward. Oh god this felt like being in a car with him. I turn my body towards him and tap my knee against his. He looks at me, like we’re having an actual conversation. “I do. About what I did to you…I’m sorry.”
“Yeah you’ve said.”
“Yeah,” he grimaces. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. Being manipulated and lied to like that still stung. It was rock bottom for me in a way. “I was a dick. I’m deeply sorry and I’ve thought about how to make it up to you but I thought I should just stop texting you ever. Trust me that was rock bottom for me and you didn’t deserve to be dragged down with me.”
I try not to look surprised when he says it was his rock bottom, like I was thinking seconds earlier.
“You got one thing right,” I tap at his phone. I wasn’t going to tell him I forgave him, or that I understood even though I did. I didn’t like him very much, I didn’t trust him, but I knew he was sorry when he said it.
I remember the wedding—there was something I wanted to apologize for, “Well now that we’re unloading apologies, I am actually sorry for uhm, slapping you that night? That’s not me. And I don’t know where it came from! I feel bad about that.”
His laugh is quiet, to himself. “You shouldn’t be apologizing for anything. Anything at all YN.”
God, the way he says my name is addictive. He said it like everyone else, but in his voice…
“I know. But that crossed a line…”
“Nah don’t worry. Plus I don’t mind when a woman slaps me around a little,” his face splits into a grin when I give him the reaction he was looking for.
“Harry,” I scold. “You’re teaching children with that mouth?”
“That’s why I’m quitting.”
“You’re quitting!?”
“Yep. Phase 3 of my plan, to live the life I want. I’m finishing the school year and looking for a job in my field over the summer.”
“Wow,” I was impressed. “Wow Harry. Good luck with that.”
“Yeah I’ll need it thanks.” The way he looks at me makes me nervous. I think I’ve been single a bit too long. And right on cue he asks: “So YN how about you? Are you still doing your single thing?”
“I feel like you’re still talking about it like you don’t believe in it,” I tell myself to calm down every time he says my name.
“No I-“ he plays with his bottle. “I believe you. I’ve tried it, it’s been good for me. But I started dating again this year and I found I really love that too.”
“Yeah?” I ask him more about it. He tells me he’s dating knowing what he wants now. What kind of woman he’s looking for.
I felt like focusing on myself has helped me with that too. The only issue is I was finding it hard to open myself up to men again.
“I haven’t been dating much,” at all. “But I’m open to it now.”
“Show anyone your mean side lately?” He jokes but in there is a serious question.
“That’s only reserved for you,” I say, then realize how flirty it sounds and clamp down on my tongue. Maybe I should stop drinking. I didn’t even know Harry very well. But when I peek a glance he looks flushed.
I liked this version of Harry better. I wonder if he was like this before, before he had his heart broken, or even before he started dating Vanessa. But I don’t tell him that, I didn’t want him to think we were friends or anything.
We fall into silence again, not an uncomfortable one though. I look at him, he looked the same but different. Like a change had taken place underneath the surface. I imagine he’s studying me the same way. He smiles and I return it.
A body pushing into the side of me interrupts us. Dots is there with Taz and they wave the bartender down for a drink even though they could’ve ordered from the table. I roll my eyes and turn to them.
“Hi,” I look between them. Dots looks mischievous as usual and Taz seems curious.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us YN?” Dots asks.
“Oh, this is Harry,” I eye Taz when I say it. She’s a bit slow but when I introduce them to Harry it dawns on her. Her face darkens as she pinpoints who he is.
“Harry is it?” Taz asks. “I’ve never met a Harry I liked.”
Dots looks over at her like she’s grown another head, clued out and assuming I was still here to kiss him.
“Oh well…” Harry looks just as confused at her sudden intensity. “I hope I can change your mind about that?”
“Too late for that,” she nearly spits out. I watch his eyes widen and then go to me. I’m biting back a smile.
“Taz, right you’re Taz.” He sounds like he remembers her.
“And I’m Dots,” Dots repeats. Poor girl was clueless. “We’re just doing a bachelorette thing and YN seemed to think you were cute enough to ditch us right?”
“Really?” Harry takes pleasure in playing along.
“Well no I—ow!” Dots interrupts me by smashing her elbow into me. I sigh. “Right. Yeah. You were irresistible, I had to ditch my friends for a man like you.”
“Sarcasm,” Harry says just low enough for me to hear. He’s smiling.
“YN you should come back,” Taz tries to grab my arm but Dots is like a pro as she cuts that off.
“No we’re just doing the same thing back there. Talking and drinking. You two enjoy. You should give him your number here.” She drops a sharpie in my hand. “Let’s go Taz.”
I try to warn Taz with my expression, please don’t tell anyone I know him. None of these girls knew I went to Ethan’s wedding, it was an embarrassing story on my timeline I didn’t need to share. I didn’t want them to know the story of how I knew Harry.
“Your friends are scary.”
“I guess,” I turn back to him. My drink was nearly empty and I did think it was time to go back. “I should go back to them.”
“Oh,” he looks disappointed.
“What?”
“I thought we were having a nice time.”
“Yeah well we were catching up. And now my drink’s finished and I’m-“
“I can buy you another?”
“I think I’ve had enough. This is our third place on our night crawl so…”
“Fair.” Harry looks at me like he has something to say. I stand there and wait but in the end he just sighs and sits back down.
“Oh yeah I’m going to write my number,” I grab his arm and pull his sleeve up. Holy muscles. “on your arm. If that’s alright?”
“Sure,” he smiles and his dimples make an appearance. It’s boyish, like we’re teenagers exchanging numbers.
I write it down even though he had it, cap the marker, and look up. We’re so close; his eyes flit to my mouth and away so quickly I almost miss it.
“I’ll get this tattooed,” Harry jokes.
“I’ll change my number if you do,” I warn him. He just shrugs like he didn’t believe me and I shake my head, turning back to my friends.
I get back to a group of disappointed women. They give me a hard time and tell me how upset they are that I don’t care about Taz winning. They try to tell me how good we looked together, how I looked with him.
“We’re not leaving until you kiss him,” Felicity says.
“Leave her alone! He smelled like bad news,” Taz says. She was well past drunk now so no one listens to her.
“Ethan was bad news,” Fels states. “This guy is just a random man you can kiss and invite as a plus one. Have some fun with him. Get back into the pool where all the fish are. C’mon YN we know your dating life is shite!”
“Remind me to never get drunk with you lot,” I stare at them. They were scary. “I gave him my number, at least Taz can cross that out!”
“Wait! Harry!” Everyone begins to shout his name as they spot him leaving behind me.
I catch him turning with a wary expression. He points to himself. The girls shout “Yes!” and earn some dirty looks from the other patrons.
He walks up to our table like a sacrifice to an ancient ritual. “You ladies need something?”
“Yes,” a few voices say but Felicity is the loudest. She points to Taz who has her head down on the table. I should check on her.
“See this beautiful creature here? She’s getting married! Married! And we have a scavenger hunt. And she can almost win! But she needs to kiss someone at the bar. But she’s getting married! And you look decent enough to help this bride-to-be! So YN her wonderful friend is helping out. And she chickened out up there. So she wants to kiss you. Does she have your permission?”
“Does she?” He turns to me. God I was helpless with the pressure around me. My eyes lock onto Harry and I hope he can read the help etched into them.
“This is silly,” I tell him. “We don’t need to do this. I don’t think Taz even cares.”
“I don’t!” I guess she was conscious because she lifts her head to answer me. But everyone crowds her out, her cousin actually guides her head back down.
“You owe her a kiss,” Dots says proudly.
“I owe her a lot actually,” Harry says to me. My heart races as we look at each other.
I would be lying if I said the idea of kissing him doesn’t intrigue me. He was attractive! And his facial hair made him more so. But I didn’t want to complicate anything.
What’s there to complicate? I ask myself. It’s not like he’s in your life. Plus maybe this will be the push to start dating again. Kisses are nice right?
“Okay whatever,” I take a step towards him. “It’s not like this means anything. It’s just a kiss.”
A cheer goes up with the group.
Harry drops his bag to the floor and takes the other step to me. “It doesn’t mean anything?”
“No,” I say more to myself. “It’s just a kiss with a guy.”
“Just a kiss with a guy,” Harry repeats. “If you say so.”
His hand reaches up to my neck and he pulls me gently to him, with his height I crane my face up and his warm lips come down on mine exactly how I imagined it would feel. That’s when I realize I had imagined how he would feel. But it’s too late by then.
It feels like hearing music live for the first time, I can suddenly hear every atom of the song. I can feel it, taste it, even smell the soundwaves pounding through the room. That’s what the kiss feels like. Ultrasonic and consuming as hell.
He’s gentle but I can tell he’s holding back with the way his hand grips the back of my head tight. And that sends my senses into overdrive. Even though his moustache is a bit tickly, he was a really good kisser.
When we part, I laugh because I’m nervous but also he has lipstick on his face.
“That was hot,” someone in the group says but we can’t take our eyes off of each other. I’m trying to remember how to breathe and it seems like Harry is doing the same.
“You have-“ I laugh nervously again and reach up to wipe the lipstick from the side of his mouth. This close his pupils are blown out and it only confirms to me that he was holding back. Because he looks like a man who can barely contain himself.
“Uhm,” he finally breaks his gaze to look at all the women staring. “I hope that was satisfactory enough.”
“That was movie worthy,” everyone begins shouting scores out. Some of then fan themselves with the menu. Harry clears his throat, picks up his bag, does an awkward half-bow, and stiffly nods to me.
“G’night YN.”
“Yeah…thanks.” I didn’t know what to say after having the most intense kiss of my life. To Harry. The ex-texter.
“I need some water after that,” Felicity climbs over me out of the booth and I slide in by Taz.
“I’m sorry,” she wraps her arms around my shoulder. “We have really shitty friends.”
“You have amazing friends,” Dots says. “We just broke YN’s dry spell. Did you see that? That was chemistry YN. That was wow. I hope you got his number.”
“I have it,” I sigh.
I decide I was going to drink more. I didn’t want to remember this night anymore.
***
It’s the Friday after and I’m at work, it’s a slow day so I’m scrolling through my phone when a notification pops up.
Hi
It was Harry.
Hi. I text back. I’d been thinking about him a lot this week, about the kiss, and about dating again. I wouldn’t admit it to my friends but it was a reminder that chemistry existed somewhere out there.
I don’t want our whole relationship to be wedding crashing so I want to run something past you.
???
Your friend Felicity invited me to Taz’s wedding. Tomorrow. She said you knew but you haven’t texted me all week so I think she’s setting you up?
I couldn’t believe it. I text Felicity and she responds immediately with a kissy emoji and a tongue sticking out.
I’m sorry I didn’t know, Fels just confirmed. You don’t need to come she’s just on this mission to get me a date.
She said you have a flaky boyfriend?
Oh my god the lie had spread. So embarassing, I was going to strangle Fels.
Really I’m alright. Sorry about that.
I would like to see you again. Even if it’s at a wedding. But I’ll only go if you invite me.
Wow. I read the message another time then put my phone away. What was I supposed to do?
I take my phone into the toilets and call Taz. She picks up, it sounds like she’s in a car.
“Hi you free?”
“Yeah I’m just getting back from the salon, what’s going on?”
I tell her. I tell her it all, the conversation Harry and I had and how I was feeling and what Felicity did.
“That one does not know how to keep her nose out of people’s businesses.”
“I know,” I groan. “I could not invite him and get a million questions from everyone who knows Fels invited him. And I keep him out of my life. Which is fine because I barely know him (even though that kiss felt like I’ve known him for all of eternity). But if I invite him, I’m telling him I’m okay with what he did to me. That we’re okay.”
“YN listen,” she sighs. She says something to someone on her end and I hear a car door close. “Look—sorry just getting in. You’re not that person anymore. I don’t trust him more than you do but just tell him that. So he knows you’re only taking him to get everyone to shut up. Like…use him as a date like he used you.”
“Hm,” that was a good point. “Yeah. That could actually work?”
“Really? I thought I was just saying shite,” Taz laughs. “Okay I really have to go my in-laws are here. Are you alright?”
“Yeah yeah you focus on your stuff. I’ll be by this evening.”
“Love you, bye!”
I call Harry immediately after. He doesn’t pick up so I go back to my desk and consider what to text him when he calls back.
“YN I was still in class sorry.”
“Oh god sorry I forgot!” I look at the time. “Sorry I just assumed you were free.”
“No it’s alright,” he answers. “Are you calling about tomorrow?”
“Yeah…” my mouth is suddenly parched. I get up and walk away from where people could hear me. “So, the thing is my friends are giving me a hard time because I don’t have a date and all that. So sort of the way you used me as a date at that wedding, I could use you at this one. Like if would be doing me a favour?” I cringe as the words come out.
“Oh. Sure…yeah if you want.” He sounds…offended?
“Like if we’re being honest we’ve not really spoken since that night. And I have no reason to trust you and whatever. So this is just…”
“Returning the favour.” He puts it simply.
“Yeah? Yeah! Right. Exactly.” Why was this coming out so horribly.
“I get it,” he says. “I’m glad we talked. I’d be happy to be your plus one tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” I find myself smiling.
***
Taz’s wedding is a dream. An absolute dream. I tell her a million times after the ceremony and I gush to her how much I love her and am proud of her during speeches. Her bridesmaids give their toast, and every person who was at the bachelorette makes sure to tease me about bringing Harry who had been nothing but supportive tonight. He stuck to himself when I was doing maid-of-honour duties, and squeezed my hand encouragingly before my speech because public speaking was not my favourite thing. I had to admit it was nice to have someone here just for me. It had been a while.
When Taz told me she got engaged a couple years ago I always thought it would be Ethan by my side. It was weird that Harry was here, because of Ethan, but also the way he came to be here.
“Hi!!” I shout at Harry after doing shots with the bridesmaids. I was officially tipsy but most of the major wedding traditions were over. We were waiting for the cake cutting and bouquet toss and the first dance. And then it was all fun.
“Hi,” he holds out an arm to guide me to my seat.
“I hate these heels,” I unstrap my feet and groan when I put my feet on the bare floor. “That feels sooo good.”
“Hi!” A chirpy voice says to my right. I peek an eye open and groan again, Felicity has joined the table.
“Hi, Felicity right?” Harry says.
“Fels,” she nudges me. “You glad he came?”
“Whatever,” I shrug.
“She’s happy you came,” Fels tries to make up for my rudeness. “She’s not usually this rude.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Harry says. I cut him a look.
“Oh no she’s very nice. She’s just a bit grumpy probably all the maid of honour duties,” she tries to convince a Harry that’s just sharing an inside joke with me. It does something to me.
“It’s okay,” I put a hand on Fels’. “He’s teasing. I’m allowed to be rude to him.”
Harry laughs and Felicity realizes too late she was sitting in on two people that didn’t need her help to get along.
“Well I’m going to find my date, play nice!”
“Nice suit,” I tug at Harry’s lapels once she’s gone. It was nicer than what he wore the last time we met.
“I borrowed it from a friend. I only have one suit and…well you’ve seen it.”
“Teachers don’t wear suits to work?” I tease.
“Thank god no.” His eyes roam over my bridesmaid dress, an off the shoulder sage dress that honestly reminded me of a folky tinkerbell. “You look beautiful.”
“Flattery won’t get you extra points.” I say whilst flattered. The dress had also reminded me of the colour of his eyes when he greeted me today. Now his eyes stay on me all evening.
The announcement for cake cutting goes off so I walk with Harry to watch. Taz looked beautiful in her embroidered dress and she glows even while narrowly missing cake all over her face. Everyone toasts and she readies for a bouquet toss.
“You’re standing here,” Taz’s cousin centres me. “Because there’s no way I’m catching that.”
“I don’t even have a boyfriend,” I say but the other girls crowd me so I stay put. The bouquet is tossed high and I don’t make much of an effort but it glances off the hand in front of me and lands on me. I squish it against me to keep it from falling.
“YN!” My friends tease me and I hold it up in mock excitement. Taz laughs from up front and I go up to hug her, I’m handed another flute of champagne and I toss it back with my best friend.
“YN’s next,” one of the bridesmaid says. “Cheers!”
I get another drink and down it with the girls. I can’t stop laughing about it. I try to look out for Harry to see how he feels about the bouquet but he must be in a darker corner. I don’t spot him.
I refuse the next drink pushed my way and move to my seat as the couple gets ready for their first dance. Harry’s not there but he sits down shortly after I do.
“Look!” I show him the bouquet. “I caught it!”
“I saw,” he smells the flowers. “I got a picture of you.”
“Let me see!” I hold my hand out and wait for him to find it.
“Oh my god,” I laugh as I zoom into my face as the flowers hit me. “Look at my face! And look at her! This is a great pic…” the words die on my lips. I’d accidentally swiped to the camera roll zooming out and I see dozens of photos of me.
“Oh,” Harry takes the phone from me. “Is that creepy? Sorry I was taking photos to send you since you’re busy having fun I-“
I feel tears threaten my makeup and I clench my mouth closed. Despite all the drinks I suddenly feel incredibly sobered.
I take his phone back and swipe through, he recorded my speech and took a million photos of me with Taz. My chin trembles.
“Hey I’m sorry,” Harry takes the phone back. “I didn’t mean to upset you I’ll delete-“
“No!” I stop him. “Don’t. I want all of them.”
“Why are you…” his confusion is all over his face. “Are you upset?”
“No,” I blink away any tears. “Sorry. No. I’m okay! I’m alright.”
It was stupid but Ethan never took photos of me. Even on important days like birthdays, Christmas, holidays. I had a million candid photos of him but I had to beg and remind him for photos of me. Harry took so many without even asking, just because he knew I would want to look back on the memories I was making. It was such a basic thing to do but it felt like the world to me in this moment.
“Thank you.” I say when he doesn’t make a move. “Honestly thank you. Sorry, ignore what my face is saying! But make sure you send every single one okay?”
“Yeah I will,” he promises. He swipes a fallen tear with a gentle smile. I draw back from his touch and use a napkin to dab at my eyes instead.
“YN you know I’m really sorry,” he says just as the first song comes on.
“No I’m fine!” I shift my chair to face the dancefloor. I position it slightly ahead of Harry so he leans forward to speak to me.
“I mean about the other wedding we went to.”
“Yeah I-“ he looks serious so I stop what I was saying. I turn slightly so I can look at him. “Can we talk about it later?”
“Yeah,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Okay,” I smile and turn back to admire the couple but I can sense the emotional turmoil beside me. I push my chair back enough to be side by side with Harry. I lean my head on his shoulder as I watch the married couple dance the first dances of many. When Harry puts his arm around me, his thumb rubs my shoulder. A finger pokes my arm and Dots face pops in beside me to waggle her eyebrows. Was everyone watching me with Harry tonight?!
When the DJ invites everyone else onto the dancefloor I pull Harry up.
“So what was it you were saying?” I ask as we wrap arms around each other.
“I like you a lot YN. A lot. Even when we first met, I started liking you right when you returned my bullshit with sarcasm. You rolled with all my jokes. It was a breath of fresh air.”
I don’t say anything; he had more to say.
“I wish I didn’t do what I did. I sabotaged everything because I was hung up over the wrong girl. And now I’m just a guy to you. A guy you kissed once, I’m just a favour returned.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” I ask.
“Just in case you felt anything, if you thought we could…”
“Harry you lied to me. Embarrassed me. You weren’t a very nice person.”
“I know-“
“I do like this Harry better.”
“Uhm,” he thinks. “Thanks. It’s old Harry, before my life went to hell. Old Harry mixed with some lessons learned. I’m telling you I was at rock bottom when I did what I did.”
“I believe you.” I did.
He sighs in relief. “Thank you.”
We dance quietly for a bit. Until I speak, “I’m trying not to date losers.”
He flexes his jaw, fixating on a spot behind my shoulder.
“I thought you were one,” I tell him honestly. “But I’m not so sure now. But this feels like asking a lot Harry I…”
“You don’t need to respond now,” he urges. “Just think about it.”
“I can’t,” I was terrified of agreeing to a relationship that would hurt me all over again. “I do like you Harry but I don’t know if I can agree to what you want…”
The truth was that Harry was showing me that the glimpses I’d gotten of him throughout the last week were more telling, more consistent than the guy he was when we first met. I was deathly afraid of getting hurt again, and I’m not sure I was willing to take the risk. If that kiss was any indication, I know Harry was telling the truth on his end but I didn’t want a relationship with a guy who started it off by lying.
“I’m-excuse me,” Harry stops mid-dance and walks away. I feel awful but I let him go, watch him disappear to the lobby, and I sit back in my seat. Dots tries to wave me by but I ignore her. The lump in my throat sits heavily and I feel like shit. Especially when a few dances later Harry returns and announces he was going home early. His face is splotchy and it feels awful.
“Are you sure?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he holds my arm. “Thank you for tonight, and again I’m really sorry about everything.”
I just pull him into a hug, with no words equivalent to what I should say. He squeezes once and lets go.
“Tell Taz thank you for the invite. I’ll see you around.”
“Okay…bye Harry.”
That’s the last I see of him. I head right to the drinks and drink enough to feel okay. I dance with my friends and get as many pictures as my phone can handle in.
At the end of the night I go home to an empty flat and drunkenly download all the dating apps I swore off of. Swiping through like a catalogue, by the time I wake up the next morning I’m well on my way back to the dating scene.
***
I stare at the man in front of me. His profile on the app was exactly the kind of guy I was looking for. And he’d actually made me laugh a few times tonight which was a bonus. But something feels like it’s missing—they all have this last month as I became a serial dater. I was really putting myself out there but nobody made it past date two.
“So how about heading out?” He asks after the bill.
“Yeah! Sure,” I grab my purse and we walk out. He grabs my hand as we step out.
“Want to share a ride?”
“Are we going to the same place?” I ask.
“If you want,” he pulls my hand and places it on his shoulder. He was cute, I could kiss him.
And I do, but it’s just a kiss. Just two mouths kissing. I don’t feel the spark, or the passion.
“Actually,” I pull away. “I forgot I have an early morning meeting so I think I should behave and head home by myself.”
“Oh,” he looks disappointed. “Well maybe we can do something on Friday?”
“Yeah I’ll text you?”
He pecks my lips, “Sounds good.”
I get a car and as I drive away from the date my hands stray to my lips. I remember another kiss, and then I slam the door shut on it. You can’t keep comparing all your kisses to that one!
Except the thing about telling my mind not to think about something, I do. I think about Harry, and question myself like I have been ever since the wedding if I made the wrong choice. Did I push him away too quickly, out of fear? Am I protecting myself or just scared?
I open the text exchange between us like I do weekly and hover my fingers over the keyboard. What do I say? What could I say?
I scroll to the top of the conversation and find his address and plug it into my phone. I was 18 minutes away.
“Excuse me could I change the drop off?” I ask the taxi driver. “I had a change of plans.”
He asks me where and he knew the area enough to take the left and head in that direction.
That was very impulsive. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that?
Adrenaline courses through my body as I pray that he still lived in the same place. What was I going to say?
My leg bounces up and down as I stare out the window, biting down on my lip. This was stupid, I made him bloody cry the last time I saw him. Then again I cried the time before that. Were we equal? Was I twisted enough to think this could all work?
I nearly jump out of the taxi after paying and walk to the front door. Of course, you needed a key card.
With shaking fingers I call Harry.
“Hello?”
I freeze. He was out, the sounds of people and music give that away.
“YN? Is that you?”
I was so stupid! Why did I do this?
“YN?” Now Harry sounds worried. I take a deep breath.
“Sorry! Wrong number. I meant to call som-“
“YN are you alright? Is everything okay?”
The background noise disappears. He must have stepped out.
“Yes sorry to worry you!” I squeak. “Everything’s fine.”
“Why did you call?” He asks as I ask “What are you doing right now?”
We laugh. Harry tells me, “You first.”
“It was an accident…”
“Oh well…a good accident.” I can hear his smile through the phone. “I was just grading final tests at my local pub.”
His local pub…that meant he was close by. I think. My heart picks up speed. “Oh! Is that something you do often?”
“Yeah some of these papers remind me why I’m quitting this job. So I drink to get through them.”
“Giving up on the youth of tomorrow?” I ask. I spot a bench a little ways away and head to it, next to a bike rack.
“Yes!” Harry laughs. “They’ve given up on me too. They’s all assholes nobody listens to me.”
“I would’ve liked to have you as a teacher,” I go for flirting. “None of my grade school teachers were good looking. I could’ve used a distraction.”
“So you’re admitting that I’m good looking,” Harry says just as I spot him heading to his door.
“Yeah in your grey t-shirt, I think so.”
I watch as he whips his head around and scans the area until he spots me.
“I lied,” I get up and wave at him. “I came by to see you but I was embarrassed when you weren’t home.”
“Why-“ his voice sticks. “Why did you come to see me?”
“Well,” by now we’re close enough that I could shout to him but I still use the phone. “I thought about what I said that night and I think I was too harsh.”
“And?” Harry stares at me as I walk up to him.
“And I want to believe that a second impression can be just as important as a first.”
He’s alight in a second, hope injected into his features. I stop a few feet away from him.
“I’ll take that. I’ll take it.”
“Okay,” I move in closer, lowering my phone. My eyes are on his lips and I don’t care that how badly I want to kiss him is plain as day. Because in the moment he reaches for me I know he wants this just as bad.
My mind is wiped clean when he kisses me—I kind of hate myself of a month ago for denying me of this all this time.
It’s indecent, the way we kiss out there. When my mind returns to my body I push him away, flushed and nervous.
“Should we take this up to your place?”
“Why? Are you getting shy?” He teases.
“Your neighbours are getting free entertainment,” I’m out of breath as I talk and this seems to make Harry smile even harder. He presses a hard kiss to me and then leads me by the hand up to his flat. We’re on each other with every pause we take, it’s gross and unlike me but I’m just too happy to stop. The spark, the passion, everything I’d been looking for is here.
“Can I uh,” Harry closes the door behind us as I continue kissing him, my lips finding any part of him. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure,” I watch him unbutton my cardigan. “I’ll take a tall glass of whatever you’re serving.”
He smirks and pulls me back in. I jump when he tells me to and he carries me to wherever his bedroom is. I’m barely in the right state of mind to notice anything as I get lost in us. In the way his hands hold me, and the way his moustache feels on my skin. Maybe it’s been a while or maybe it was him but having this after so long makes it taste sweeter than it ever had.
***
“Happy six months,” Harry wraps his arms around me from behind. I’m making us coffee, we were up especially early because we were making the trip to see Harry’s family for the holidays. Usually this is when I went to Taz’s but this year she’d urged me to spend the time with my boyfriend’s family.
She’d been suspicious when I first told her about Harry. But when she saw how happy I was she’d given it her blessings (and I’m pretty sure threatened Harry with some dismemberment). I hadn’t had a big Christmas in a while, and Harry said he had more family coming into town. I was nervous to meet so many new people, people that meant a lot to Harry. But he assured me everyone would love me.
“Happy six month,” I reach up to peck his lips and settle against him. He hums as he tightens his arms around me. I couldn’t believe this was my life now, I was happier than I ever dared to think I could be. I never knew a relationship could be so complementing, so grounding.
Despite our rocky start, that Harry and I had discussed in depth when we first started dating, we were mostly smooth sailing. The way I saw it we met as two damaged people. Somehow we parted from there and ran like parallel lines until we were straightened out enough to meet again. And now we ran together as a pair of lines.
“I’m so lucky,” Harry presses a kiss to my temple, thinking the same thing I had been. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world YN. You make me the luckiest guy in the world.”
“Then that would make me Mrs. Luckiest-Guy-in-the-World,” I joke as I turn in his embrace.
“I’d like that,” he strokes my cheek. “I’m excited to introduce you to everyone tonight.”
“That makes one of us.”
“YN I promise there’s nothing to be nervous about. They already love you because they know you’re the reason I’ve been so…me.”
I swallow the ball of emotion in my chest. We were both just us around each other. No fuss, no pretending. Just us. It wasn’t something I could share with my own family, they barely knew what I was really like. Harry had met my parents separately when they were in town a couple months ago. They’d liked him, but they also liked Ethan so it wasn’t saying much.
“I trust you,” I hold his face in my hands. “Fine.”
“Good,” his hand rubs my back. He pulls me into his chest, crushing me against him until the coffee goes off.
“Thanks love,” Harry says as I hand him a mug.
We chat about nothing as we take our coffees to the couch where we sit snuggled. I feel safe here, it’s a good feeling, a feeling that felt so overwhelmingly new sometimes that it made me want to cry. Which always made Harry laugh.
“I can’t wait to spend this new year together,” I tell him.
“Me too,” his lips press softly onto my temple. “I’m finally excited about the future. I’m doing a job I like and dating a woman I love.”
“I’m happy for us.” I smile up at him.
We sit snuggled on the couch as we sip our morning coffee. I savour everything about this moment.
With Harry life was stable, it was good. I knew I would never pick up my phone and find a text so life-shattering like the ex-text had done to me; I know it was impossible to predict the future but somehow I could tell you that I had a good feeling about it.
———————————
TAGLIST: @tiaamberxx @cherryshouse
#harry styles fic#writingsfromhome#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#fic#harry styles fluff#harry styles series#harry styles angst#harry stylesxreader#series#i didn’t really know where this one was going lol#but I am also feeling lazy to edit so dont mind#sorry in advance if this isn’t the ending you wanted lol#road trip
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The Ex-Text
Main: the ex
A/N: The main bits: both you and Harry are the exes of cheating partners (you found out when he texted you). Invited to your exes’ wedding, the two of you decide to road trip it together but it’s not what you thought it was going to be.
Prologue (text) / Main (ex) / Epilogue (what’s next)
————————————————————
I did not expect him to be good looking.
Okay, maybe attractive is a better word. His hair could use styling, his razor blades a sharpening, and his suit could use some tailoring. But he was fit.
“Is this what we’re going in?” Harry, he’d told me his name after I’d responded to his text, points to my blue Volkswagon.
“I don’t see you with a better car,” I didn’t like the hint of judgement in his tone.
Here was the guy who’d sent me what Taz and I called the Ex-Text. Really it was an Imploded-Life Text but it didn’t have the same ring.
I’d held out an hour and then gave in, texting him back: yes. the nerve
Are you going
Ofc not! I’m not a clown
What if we went together. Like flipping them off by going together
Are you still in the revenge phase?
Nah I’m over it. If they’re inviting us we should show up.
The idea of saying fuck you by showing up was appealing.
I should know your name first.
Harry. Styles if you want to search me first
…you barely have any photos of you. I’d continued looking at his online profiles, thinking the idea through before responding. I’ll go if I can drive. You can pay for the trip.
It was a plan: we would drive the 4 hours to Exeter in my Volkswagon and hopefully not want to die in the process.
“We should get a move on. Wedding’s at 3:30,” I get into my front seat and he folds his long legs into the seat beside me. The wedding itself was probably happening as we drove but to be there we would have had to drive through the early morning or stayed over night. Both Harry and I agreed we didn’t want the extra fuss. We would just show up for the reception.
“What’s that smell?” Harry sniffs the air.
“Peaches and cream,” I point to the car freshner dangling from the mirror.
“Smells like a teenage girl threw up a lung filled with peach juul.”
“That’s colourful,” I was starting to regret inviting him on a 4 hour road trip. “You’re not going to be this cheery the whole way through right? Because I was hoping to spend a lot of it moping.”
“Sarcasm,” he snaps his fingers. “My favourite.”
“We’ll get along just great then!” I start the car and get on.
“So why did you agree to this?” Harry asks after only a few minutes of silence.
“I dunno,” I drive carefully as I merge onto the freeway. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to show my ex I’m doing fine.”
“So what did you do when you found out? Trash his things? Set his car on fire?”
“Umm,” I bite my lip. This was embarassing.
“Did…did you beg for him back?” Harry goes with his judgey voice again.
“No. I’m not that pathetic,” I glance at him. He’s fidgeting with his sleeve. “I didn’t do a lot actually. Mostly just ignored him, then cleared out the flat when he was gone. Um…I dunno. I always thought I’d be that American country girl crazy if my man ever cheated on me. Turns out I’m very English.”
Harry laughs, it sounds genuine. “I guess we’re not all Carrie Underwood.”
“Hah! No. What did you do? When you found out?”
“Ehm,” he rolls down a window and rolls it back up. “I didn’t find out she was cheating. She’d actually told me she met someone new-“
“Really?”
“Yah,” Harry fidgets some more.
“How long were you two…”
“Three years or some.”
“Shit,” I didn’t know. I didn’t know a lot about this stranger who shared something this big with me. “I was nearly two years when you sent me those texts.”
“Yeah…we were both blindsided though.”
“Understatement.” I clench my jaw when I remember the feeling of getting those messages. The way my stomach dropped and my life turned upside down. “So you two broke up after that. Then you decided to text me?”
“Funny story,” he says and I know it wasn’t going to be. “I was hung up over it. I sort of stalked her on the internet and her new boyfriend. And I found his instagram with you on it…I reached out to you.”
“Oh,” so I was a casualty in his search for answers. That doesn’t feel good. This whole time I thought he’s been kind enough to let me know from one cheated person to the other.
“Yep,” the silence descends when I don’t respond. It ticks by and I glance at the time. It’s only been 15 minutes.
“So what do you do Harry?” I could barely find anything on social media about him. I was curious.
“I’m a teacher,” he says. I can’t help the sharp look I throw his way.
“A teacher!?”
“Don’t be so shocked.” He mumbles.
“I thought teachers were cheerier, that’s all.”
“Oh and all your teachers were cheery growing up?” I could tell this was a sore subject for Harry. Ha, subject, I smile to myself at the pun.
“Oh no,” I recall my year 7 teacher. “Mr. Harkner hated children. I got in trouble all the time.”
“You? Ms. Troublemaker?” Harry uses the same disbelieving tone I had minutes earlier. It makes me realize he was maybe quite petty.
“Exactly,” I try not to let his attitude bother me. “I never actually did much. Just happened to be wrong place wrong time, and he knew out of all my friends I was the easy one he could pick on.”
“Hmph,” Harry stares out the window.
“What? You find some relatability in the story?” I tease a bit, gauging how uptight he was. Plus, he wasn’t making much an effort to talk. And it would be an awkward 4 hours if we rode in silence.
“A bit,” he glances at me. “It’s just that I treat all my students like that, not just the easy targets.”
For a split second I think he’s serious but when I glance at him I remember what he said about sarcasm.
Game, set and match; guarded and sarcastic. I really did know how to pick a road trip partner.
“That’s good. Fair treatment and all that.” I reply with a smile. Out of my periphery I see him look at me for longer than a glance, and then look back to the window.
He doesn’t return the question.
“So what do you teach?”
“Business. But I studied design. I applied for the digital art position but they stuck me with business.”
“Digital art that’s cool,” I worked with digital artists a lot but because he didn’t seem to care about my side of things I don’t divulge.
It grows suffocatingly awkward as we’re plunged into more silence. I ask him if he wanted to put any music on.
“Sure,” he switches on the radio. I tell him he could connect his phone but he tells me he’d rather the radio.
“So you like pop?” I try for conversation again after listening to obnoxious music for another 20 minutes.
“What?” He snaps out of his daze.
“Pop music,” I motion to the stereo. “You put it on, seem to enjoy it?”
“Oh,” he shrugs. “I just listen to whatever’s on as background noise. You can change it.”
“Yes please!” I hand him my phone from the dash. “Could you connect that and open Spotify. I’ve got a road trip playlist in there.”
He fumbled with the phone like he’d never held one before. “Oh. Uh, you’ve got a few texts.”
“Ooh, from who?” I focus on merging into the exit I needed to take.
“Taz?”
“Oh, my best friend.” When he doesn’t check the message I look over. “What does it say?”
“You-you want me to read your texts?” He looks like I’d told him to flip through my nudes.
“Yes!?” He was kind of really odd. “What’s it-“
“Text me before you head out. And, serial killer vibes? And, you better be driving because I haven’t heard back. Is this about me?”
“Duh Harry c’mon,” I chuckle. “She’s being protective, don’t take it personally. Can you just text her and say everything good with a thumbs up and heart?”
“Uh yeah I guess-“
“Merge into far left lane,” the speakers interrupt.
I wait for Harry to send the text, and go into my Spotify. When Rihanna comes on I smile and finally start enjoying the drive.
“Isn’t this pop?” Harry asks.
“Not-well,” I think about it. “Kind of, in the sense she’s popular. But this playlist is curated. It’s different than turning the radio on and just letting all the rubbish play on.”
“Curated,” I can sense Harry’s judging tone. I choose to ignore it. The song fades out and Taylor Swift comes on next. I also ignore his snort.
We drive another half hour in mostly silence. We comment on the scenery, the few trees that had changed colour, or when we drive by Reading and he asks what went through the namer’s head when they named a town Reading. That started a conversation of places with weird names but Harry’s still very guarded. It leaves me confused how a guy like him would agree to coming to an event like this, and reach out to me to join.
“So Harry,” I turn down the volume a little when we hit traffic. “Why did you agree to this?”
He stutters a bit, the question took him by surprise. “I just want to show Vanessa I’m over it. Say fuck you to both of them. And show her friends and family that I moved on too. I know they all pity me. I’m pretty sure some of them knew about it when it was happening.”
I notice how he can’t name the cheating by its name. “And…have you moved on?”
“Well,” he drums his hand on the door. “Yeah. It’s been over a year.”
“Well I still want to punch his face when I think about him sometimes. I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t.”
He goes quiet, maybe this is it? He’ll actually open up?
“I don’t think we’re in the same boat.”
Nope. He just closed off even more.
“If you say so,” I keep poking the bear. “If you hadn’t texted me I wouldn’t have gone. I really don’t care what him or his family thinks. They’re all dead to me.”
“But you want to punch his face,” he tries to trip me up.
“Yeah? It would give me some pleasure to do it. Some closure that I got the last…move. But I don’t obsess over it.”
“You’ve moved on? You have a boyfriend?”
“No,” I had gone on a few dates too early and had some regrets. After the fifth bad date in a row I had decided to focus on myself this year. “I’m enjoying being single, on purpose. Just focusing on myself. I’ve been in relationships since my early 20s so…it’s been interesting just being solo.”
“I feel like that’s something girls just say-“
“Then you’re very misogynistic and mistaken,” I cut him off. I’ve had a dozen conversation with men just like this when I told them this piece of info. Including my dad. “Of course it’s a bit hard at first when you’re so used to having a significant other. And sure it gets a bit lonely from time to time. But you learn so much about yourself. And you really learn to appreciate yourself. Have you kept on with the dating then?”
“Uhh,” Harry chuckles, a deep throaty thing. I smile involuntarily. “I don’t know if I’d call what I do dating but…I get around.”
Ah. More things slide into place. Bitter ex, left by his girlfriend. Jaded and jilted. Now he uses as many girls as he can to fill the void she left behind. But he never gets to the root of his issue. Because he won’t face how badly his ex left him like.
See, spending a year alone does wonders on understanding yourself and others too.
“You’re quiet. You don’t like what I said?” Harry asks.
“Oh no,” I laugh. I’d gotten too in my head. “I was just thinking about it all.”
It goes quiet again. None of us talk and my playlist plays on until it ends. It had an hour and a half of music, right on cue as my phone shows we had less than two hours left of this.
“You have any more curated playlists?” Harry asks after a few minutes of silence.
“Why? Did you enjoy the first one so much?” I try to meet his edge with some light teasing but it doesn’t do much to soften the sharpness.
“There’s a services coming up. Can we stop?” Harry ignores me.
“Sure,” I mutter. His wish is my command.
Harry disappears inside once I park and I wander around. I want to buy something at the Starbucks, and catch Harry ahead in line. I excuse myself and join him, he looks surprised to see me.
“Thanks for saving the spot,” I say as I catch a few people shoot me a look.
“I didn-“ I loop my arm through his and raise my eyebrows before he can protest. He seems to understand, although he untangles his arm from mine and moves up with the line.
“We should fill up on gas too,” He tells me. I’m surprised he noticed, he seemed lost in his thoughts for most of the trip.
“Yeah! Thanks for the reminder. Hmm, what are you ordering?”
He shrugs. “Coffee?”
“Anything to eat? I love their cakepops—have you had one?”
“No,” he seemed disturbed at the idea of eating something called a cakepop.
He goes up to order and I do too, settling on an oat latte and a sandwich which I scarf down as Harry fills up on gas. I feel better on the caffeine back on the road.
“So how’s Van?” I ask when we’re back on the road. “I’ve seen her—I mean she’s beautiful. But I don’t know much about the woman my ex cheated on me with.”
“I dunno,” Harry shifts uncomfortably. “That’s a weird question.”
“Not really,” I counter. “It’s not like we have much to talk about, we don’t really know each other too. I’m curious.”
“You know we don’t have to talk?”
I glance at him and our eyes lock. It’s strange, because I’d mostly been looking at his side profile this whole day. His eyes are intense, I’d consider then green but he turns away before I could figure them out any more.
“I know that. Only because you’re doing a really job at it.”
He huffs, I guess it’s supposed to be a laugh because what comes out after is, “For the way you come across, your sarcasm is a nice surprise.”
“What’s that mean?” It was the first time he indicated he was actually paying attention to me, to what I was saying.
“You have this nice single girl thing going on. Even thought the last guy you dated cheated on you and probably ruined your life. Yet you’re this cheery positive girl next door. But your sarcasm gives it away that you’re not all that.”
His analysis shuts up anything I would have said. He’d read me like a book. And here I thought I was doing such a good job at reading him; that he was so indifferent to me just because he was barely talking to me.
I couldn’t deny what he was saying. Taz, the only person I let my sarcastic side out to, had told me many times I was too much of a people pleaser. That Ethan cheating on me should show me no matter how much I please, I can’t convince people to like me or to stay if they don’t want to.
The problem was I didn’t know any other way to be. And it frustrated me. And I had a constant playlist of commentary in my head of how I really felt but I bite my tongue so much it no longer resembles one.
I feel naked.
“That’s an interesting take,” I don’t agree or disagree. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Doesn’t really answer my question but sure.”
He doesn’t say much. Then he answers, “She is beautiful, that’s what caught my attention when we first met. Back then we were working at the same school. She was in administrative team. She quickly moved on to doing work for the school board itself but when I first saw her I thought Women like her are why men have always been tempted to cheat with their secretaries. It’s ironic…”
It was. It was also stupid. But I let him continue.
“I kept finding excuses to come by her office and talk to her. One thing led to another and when she left the school, we decided to proper go out. She’s smart, sweet when she wants to be otherwise she can really make you beg. She laughs at all my jokes, she was really good with my family. And we shared the same taste in likes—we always agreed on what to do, holidays, date nights, all that. I thought I was going to marry her…”
Harry trails off. His description had veered into the emotional as his words became coated in nostalgia, anger and regret. I pretend not to notice but it was a small car and the silence grows awkward instead.
“Thanks,” I croak. I clear my throat with a swig of coffee. “Thanks for sharing that. At least now I know Ethan didn’t leave me for an empty vessel hey?”
The joke lands flat and I take another swig of my coffee. Harry’s hand drums the door handle again, deep in thought maybe?
I let him be and focus on the drive ahead as the road gets busy again. I wonder if anyone else on this strip of road was also going to the wedding.
I thought it was so weird Ethan had invited me. Maybe from his perspective, it had ended okay despite the way we actually ended? Because I never had the explosive reaction, or the accusatory one, or anything that comes off as angry and hurt. Maybe my dissociated and passive acceptance of what he did made him think I was okay.
I wonder how his family felt, his mum adored me. She used to come to our flat sometimes just to hang out with me. His dad wasn’t really in the picture but I assumed he’d be at the wedding. And his brother who was a lot younger but we’d bonded over video games since I’d recently left a job in that industry. He’d really liked me too. Even though I told Harry they were all dead to me, I did miss the feeling of hanging around his family. They often gave me that warmth my parents hadn’t growing up. And being an only child, it felt nice to bond with his younger brother. That was one thing I took away in my year of reflecting and being alone. Whoever I dated next, I wanted him to have a nice family. One I could get along with. Or at least, that would be a bonus.
“So are you close with your family?” I ask, curious about this guarded and sullen man.
“What?” His confusion makes me giggle, the question made sense in my head but it must have sounded random.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about how I used to be close to Ethan’s family. Before everything.”
“Oh,” he nods. “Yeah. I’ve just got an older sister. But we’re all very close. My mum’s always made sure we have a safe place to come home to.”
“That sounds really nice,” I feel a bit choked up with him saying that. I imagine it, the tenderness my mother never had.
“It is.” He agrees. “You?”
I wasn’t expecting him to ask me back; he hadn’t returned a lot of my questions this trip. Of all the ones he had to return… “No. I’m an only child of divorced parents. We’re sort of scattered. Phone calls on birthdays and Christmas. That’s it. Not that we were very close before the divorce either.”
“Yeah divorces are hard,” Harry says with an emotion I can’t distinguish. “So you spend your holidays alone?”
“Eh,” I try to act nonchalant. This had always been a sore spot for me. “Kind of. Some years I had visited home but my dad sold our childhood home some years back. My friend Taz—the one your texted, usually invites me to hers. Christmas with found family is what we call it.”
I can sense his gaze on me for a while. I try not to fidget, but when the silence goes on too long I look at him and flash a half-smile.
“I’m understanding the sarcasm a bit better now.”
“I-“ I laugh. He’d caught me off guard. He was good at making me underestimate how attentive he actually was. “You should teach English with how well you’re reading me.”
“So I am getting it right?” He says with excitement, it’s a new expression on him. His grin, when I look, looks nice on him. He looks a lot more alive, and for that I don’t berate myself too much for giving that away to him.
“Just remember,” I raise my finger. “I can read you too.”
“Okay well don’t hold back on my account.” He crosses his arms, his body shifting to turn to me.
“Nuh-uh,” I shake my head.
The directions recalibrate just then and his voice is drowned out by the AI. Some roads had cleared up and we were less than an hour out. The proximity had both of us falling silent.
I start to feel the beginning of nerves. I didn’t so much care about Ethan but seeing his family, seeing our friends in common, seeing a part of my past I’d tucked away for good. I wondered if it would bring up any new emotions.
“For a minute there I forgot where we were going,” I try to make light of the intense silence we’d fallen into.
“Me too,” Harry lets out a small laugh.
“I’m suddenly feeling a bit nervous,” I say. I wanted to see if Harry would open up if I did. But he doesn’t say anything at all. Getting him to open up was like prying teeth out. “Are you nervous?”
“No,” he answers too quickly. He must realize this because he goes back on his answer. “A little. Only cuz I don’t know what to expect.”
“Well, they did invite us so,” I shrug. Harry clears his throat, his fingers tapping away on the door. “We just show up, stick up our metaphorical middle finger, eat their food, and then we don’t even have to wait for the dancing. We can leave before if you want?”
“Yeah we’ll see,” he mumbles. Despite our progress in the car he was back to closed off. I sigh, and decide to ignore him.
I ask him to put on the ebook I was recently listening to. It was the latest in my kick of reading more classics. I was making my way through Frankenstein, it wasn’t my favourite but I liked the storyline.
We don’t talk for much else of the trip but Harry grows more fidgety every time my phone gives an update on the route. By the time we take our exit into Exeter he’s practically vibrating.
“Hey,” I put my hand on his knee at a red light. “You gonna be alright?”
His knee stills under my hand. He doesn’t meet my eye as he nods. “Yeah yeah. I’m alright.”
“My car’s vibrating,” I try to joke, gently, maybe get a laugh out of him. “I would’ve told you to skip gas if I knew you could power the car.”
“I’m not a child YN,” he says. My name in his mouth sounds foreign, he hadn’t said it once. It’s a weird realization to have as I get told off by him. “You don’t need to coddle me and try to guess my feelings. I’m fine.”
I plant my hands firmly on the wheel, my heart dropping. I thought we’d gotten to a friendly place, but turns out he was just as much of an arse than when we started 3.5 hours ago.
“Alright then,” I mutter. He ignores me. Nothing new.
But a few minutes of driving he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to be so rude after you drove us here. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” I wave away the apology. “It’s an intense thing we’re going to it’s alright.”
I know he’s looking at me but I ignore him. I was upset at the way he’d spoken but we were stuck together and I didn’t want to dwell on it. He was my only lifeline at this wedding, so I wanted to minimize the friction.
“It’s okay if you’re upset,” he says, unexpectedly kind.
“Guessing my feelings?” I glance at him with my eyebrow raised but the word feelings catches in my throat. He looks away first, and I’m embarrassed by my display of emotions. I take a subtle deep breath.
“Destination on the left,” my phone announces. I turn in where she says. The parking lot isn’t full, I glance at the time. 3:17 We were a bit early.
“We’re early,” Harry says out loud.
“D’you want to go in or just wait here?”
“Hm,” he glances at the few faces near the building. Mostly caterers move in and out of the building. “We can wait here a bit.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I turn the engine off and it’s suddenly very quiet except for the sound of Harry’s leg moving up and down, up and down. He catches me looking at it and he stops.
“Sorry.”
I shrug. I didn’t want another scolding so I say nothing. That is until he takes up tapping the dashboard.
“Can you stay still?”
“Oh. Sorry. I…I’ll stop.” He sits on his hands and I roll my eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Harry stares at me silently, like he knew it would pull more out of me. And of course it does.
“Well, you’re just the image of fine right? So I don’t have anything to say!”
He sighs. “Yeah! I’m nervous alright!? Happy?”
Without driving and a seatbelt on, I can finally turn to him. “Harry. I’m not trying to prove myself right or something. If you don’t like talking about emotions that’s fine, you didn’t have to bite my head off about it. But it’s also okay to be nervous. Even though Van should be the embarrassed one to have done what she did and still ask you to her wedding. I know that’s why I don’t give a fuck about Ethan.”
He looks at me, actually looks, not like the glances he’d been giving all day. He opens his mouth and then shuts it. I wait for a response but none came. I should’ve known as much.
“My heels are in the back,” I finally say. “I should switch them now before we go in.”
I leave him with his undecided response and change my shoes. I apply a quick coat of deodorant, and check my makeup is still intact after being on the road. When I’m done, he’s still inside.
I walk up to his window and tap. He startles and opens the door.
“We going in? It’s now past 3:30.”
“Yeah,” he drags his feet as we walk up. When I reach the door first, he calls out to me. Again, my name sounding different out of his mouth.
“Hm?” I look at him.
“Are you sure we should do this? Do you really want to do this? I don’t know if it’s a good idea-“
“I did not drive,” I grab his hand and they engulf mine. Ethan and mine were the same size, it’s nice how neatly mine folds into his. “Nearly 4 hours to turn back and drive back.”
“But we don’t have to,” he tries to protest as I drag him through the entrance. “I’m sure Exeter has some fun we can do-“
“You’re not turning back. You have nothing to be nervous about!”
“It’s not-“ Harry stops himself and this makes me pause just before we follow the last arrow to the ballroom. I wait for him to finish but he looks embarrassed—like proper embarrassed. “If we go in we…”
“I’ve got your back,” I reassure him when he doesn’t finish that sentence either. “We’re each other’s plus ones right? We have each others backs. Now c’mon, I don’t want to walk in late either.”
Harry accepts what I’m saying. He rushes ahead to the seating plan and walks ahead to our seats. He fumbles with the table, slipping something in his pocket before pulling my chair out for me.
“Thanks?” I tell him.
“Yeah,” he looks around the room, a lot of seats were empty but it seemed the bulk of the wedding had made it out here.
“Oh my god Harry?” A slim bald guy finds his seat—at our table, and looks delighted to find Harry. “I saw your name on the chart I didn’t actually think you’d show!”
“Yeah mate why not,” Harry stands up to embrace him and in those few seconds he transforms to someone else. Someone I had not been driving with today. He has an easy smile and demeanor. I look on with an awkward smile on my face. “Everything’s cool right, just celebrating love.”
“It’s bloody nice seeing you,” he says when he steps away.
Harry was such a fake, but I don’t let my smile falter as the stranger’s eyes land on me.
“Oi Harry, this must be the reason you can come here to celebrate love!?” The stranger looks between us both. I clock on a second too late—Harry’s already introducing us.
“YN this is Van’s cousin, also Harry. Harry this is YN.”
“Nice to meet you.” I smile politely.
“You too! And I’m Vanessa’s very distant cousin. I’ve been living in Prague the last two years so I’m not around much. Actually I was convinced by the love of my life when he proposed to move with him.”
“Aw,” I say. He’s beaming and openly sharing his life story. So different from Harry. “Is he here?”
“No,” his face drops. “He couldn’t get the time off. That’s why I’m at this table…alone.”
“That’s too bad. He’s a really cool guy,” Harry tells me. “I’ve seen him fold his body into a trunk like-“
We’re interrupted when another couple joins the table. Coworkers of Van’s and luckily we don’t know each other. I still hadn’t had to talk to anyone I knew personally and I was hoping to keep it that way.
“Hey,” I lean into Harry when the table is distracted. “You didn’t correct her cousin, are we pretending to be here together together?”
“Yeah is that alright?” Harry asks. A part of me is annoyed he didn’t mention this earlier. I would have been more prepared with details. But it’s like he knew what I was thinking. “We started talking after everything, we bonded, reconnected in the summer and started dating. Okay?”
“Glad you thought it through,” I lay on the sarcasm heavily. Harry places a hand on my back, it’s warm and it tingles.
“I’m sorry. Just go with it right now?”
“Whatever.” I sit up straight and his hand falls.
When more guests arrive, so do the couple. I admit I thought I’d feel a stronger emotion but when I see Ethan walk in hand-in-hand with Vanessa, a big grin on his face, I feel a pinprick of disgust followed by a wave of relief. I really was over this chapter in my life, even though I never got to say my piece I was happy I was out of the relationship. As good as it once had been, the silver lining is that Ethan showed me his true colours before it got any more serious.
I glance at Harry, curious. His smile is plastered on his face but his eyes track the couple like a sniper. They’re devoid of the emotion his smile is trying so hard to convey. His back is straight as a ruler and the drink raised in his hand is second from cracking.
“Harry,” I put a hand on his arm and lean in to whisper. “Stop trying so hard.”
He catches himself when his eyes finally look into mine. I tell him he looks creepy, but he only clenches his jaw.
“You don’t have to torture yourself,” I lean in to say. By now the cheering had settled down as the couple join the wedding party at the front.
“I’m not,” Harry turns his head to reply. Our faces are a few inches away from each other. Definitely green, I conclude about his eyes. Encased in a black rim with flecks of something else. It was too dim to discern. “YN.”
There he goes saying my name again, so low and close to my ear a shiver runs up my spine. My eyes fall to his lips, shit, I look away entirely.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” I mumble.
“Oh quit whispering love birds,” Van’s cousin calls us out. “I’m lonely here, and bored. Tell me how did you two meet?”
As appetizers are served we launch into a jumbled story where we try to avoid the “after everything” Harry’s story mentioned.
“I think it’s shitty how you two broke up,” I hear him saying to Harry on the side. “I told her too! I told her he was a good one and you let him get away.” Harry tries to act nonchalant but he grips his arm. “Really! I think it’s really mature that you were able to come by-“
“YN!?” A voice I wasn’t expecting to hear breaks me out of my eavesdropping. I look up and Ethan’s mum stands over me. “Oh it really is you! I thought I had to change my prescription sitting up there! What a delight for you to come I had no idea Ethan and you were…friendly!”
“Oh it’s so nice to see you!” I stand up and allow the big embrace she gives me. It feels maternal in the exact way I missed.
“God I’ve missed you,” she clutches my hand. “Sometimes I consider just calling you up when I’m in town if you want to hang out but I didn’t think Ethan would like that. But now that I know you and him are on friendly terms I’ll speak to him!”
“Oh well,” I pat her hand. “I don’t know if I’d call it friendly but-“
“But you’re here!”
Harry chooses the moment to stand up. “You must be Ethan’s mum.”
“Oh yes,” she smiles kindly at him. “And you? Is this your date YN? He’s handsome.”
“Ohh yeah,” I smile at Harry but my eyes are flashing him a warning. I wrap my arm around him and lean in, giving in to Harry’s warm sturdiness. “This is him…”
“I’m happy you’ve found someone love,” I warm at being called a pet name. I really missed her. “I was really disappointed when I heard…well-“
“Water under the bridge,” I reassure her.
“I should tell the youngest you’re here,” she releases me from her hands. “He’ll want to say hello.”
“Okay,” I give in to one last hug. “I’ll be here.”
“She really likes you,” Harry notes when I sit.
“It’s nice,” I swallow down the emotions I feel and busy myself with the next course.
Some speeches are given, a couple toasts around the room. I’m in need of a better drink so I convince Harry to follow me to the bar even though he wasn’t drinking. There are a few people in front of us so we wait in silence.
In a quick second, Harry crowds my space and leans in to my ear to whisper something but my senses become so heightened with him draped all over me that I don’t register what he says. Until I hear her.
“Harry,” the two of us turn to the voice. Vanessa stands in her white midi dress—she must have changed from the wedding, with a short veil, and an angry glare. “Are you serious?”
“Hello to you too,” Harry nods. His hand stays glued to my lower back.
She glances at me and back at him. I look between the two of them. It’s like a Western standoff, waiting for the first person to speak.
“What’s going-“
“I can’t believe you,” she cuts me off. “What kind of petty bullshit are you still pulling!? It’s been over a year, and you show up with Ethan’s ex?”
“Not everything is about you,” Harry says as I say offensively, “I have a name.”
“Yeah YN, whatever. I can’t believe you’re here playing his game.”
“I’m not playing a game,” I was so confused. They invited us how could she be standing here pointing fingers? If they didn’t want us to come why would they invite us?
“She’s not—“ Harry’s hand presses into my back. “We’re together. Sure we bonded over you two but we’re together because we like each other. And she’s here with me.”
Harry looks at me and I look at him, a bit dazed. I could barely follow the conversation.
“You’re twisted,” she says with venom just as Ethan joins us.
“YN? I thought mum was mistaken. What are you doing here?”
I must look really confused as I look at him, his genuine question. I look at Van who looks pissed, and finally at Harry who looks plain guilty. Just like that, it clicks. It clicks and I can’t believe I was played. But before I could let it show that I was an outsider on this plan, like a loser, I play cleanup.
“I’m here with Harry,” I stand up tall, Harry hand feels suffocating on me now. “Your wife invited him did she not?”
“Is this some kind of joke?” He looks around the group. “Since when did you two start dating?”
“Since when was it your business?” I demand. “We’re both single, we can date. It’s not like I’m cheating on you with him. Right?”
Ethan backs down immediately. I’d played the ace I never pulled back when shit hit the fan. Ashamed, he makes a whatever motion.
“I just didn’t know.”
“Anyway it’s getting a bit stuffy in here. I’m getting air.”
I walk away, as far as I could which was right outside the front doors. When I reach the railing I let it take my weight. I couldn’t believe it. I was a clown.
“YN!” Harry’s voice rings out behind me. “YN let me expl-“
“Shut up!” I turn to him. “Nothing you fucking say is going to make this any better. Nothing.”
“I know I know,” he runs a hand through his hair. “Yet I want to say I’m sorry. I thought we wouldn’t catch much attention I-“
“You tricked me into coming! You-“
“What are you doing!?” Harry tries to pull away as I attack his suit jacket and come up with our name tags I remember he’d tucked away. One says Harry, the other Harry plus one. I throw them at his face but they’re only cardstock so they flutter pathetically to the ground.
“I can’t believe you tricked me into driving you 4 fucking hours because you’re still hung up over your ex! You—did you send me a fake invite? Oh my god did you-“ I pull up my email and yep. The sender might say Ethan but the email address is a fake one. I reach behind me to steady myself with the railing.
“How could you?!”
“It’s a fuck you to them right?!” Harry tries to convince me. “I thought asking you to be my plus one you would say no! This way you would come if I convince you and-“
“No!” I shout. The sun was starting to set and the golden hour casts over the entrance, on Harry’s face. His eyes flicker with specks of fire in a forest. He was a forest fire, and I’d caught myself in its midst. “You’re obsessed with your ex! Oh my god you made me complicit in your obsession?? You lied and manipulated me into your plan and I’m such an idiot to have thought…” to have thought I could come back from tonight mostly unscathed, to put the final period at the end of this story. Now I just looked like a petty psycho ex who crashed her ex’s wedding.
“This is so humiliating!” My tears of frustration pool out of my eyes and down my cheeks. “I look like a petty fool in there because of you! This is so fucking embarrassing!”
“Why do you even care what they think?“ Harry takes the step down so that’s he’s right above me. “I thought they were all dead to you.”
I slap him. It shocks the both of us into silence.
“I didn’t mean to-“
“No,” he holds his cheek. I’m sure it didn’t hurt that much but I regret it immediately. I wasn’t the kind of girl that did that, but I was in unchartered waters. I didn’t know what I was doing here! “I deserve that.”
“Why couldn’t you just tell me the truth!?” I ask, the shock of the slap leaving me tired. “Why did you lie for months?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s all?” I walk down a few steps. “All this and you don’t know? God.”
I walk away and out to my car. I just needed to be alone but I soon hear his footsteps behind me.
“I was just thinking about myself. You were just a means to an end,” his voice stops me in my tracks just before I open my car door. “I asked you how you dealt with everything. Well I’ll tell you how I did. I was the pathetic one asking her to take me back. I needed her to see she made a mistake. I made myself miserable, pushed away everyone in my life. Became someone I don’t even recognize. I can’t even listen to anything that’s not pop without thinking about her. It’s pathetic, and so am I. I’m a loser YN. I’m sorry.
I just thought you were my way in to show her—prove to her something I’m realizing now she doesn’t give a fuck about. It’s unfair to you, to treat you like just a-I dunno, a chess piece. I didn’t even think about telling you the truth. And the longer I spent time with you the worse I felt as I realized this was so wrong. I tried to say something before we went in but it just didn’t…I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.”
“You are,” I tell him without turning around. I get in my car and slam the door shut. I wasn’t going to soothe his ego, tell him it was okay. I felt humiliated, and betrayed, and upset. And he lied to me. I sit there and think about our entire interactions, the way he tried to keep me out and fidgeted anytime our invitations came up. His responses all of it I…it was right in front of me. But I wanted to believe he was a good guy. I wanted to be the nice one. Me and my people pleasing had fucked me over again. I knew something was up! Why would Ethan invite me? Why was I an idiot!? Why did I think coming here was a good idea?
I hit the steering wheel. It feels good so I do it again but when my finger crunches in a bad way the tears come. I cry, frustrated and angry. My makeup was ruined but it’s not like I was going back in there.
It must be a half hour later. The sun was mostly gone and a small knock on my window scares me.
Harry. I open my window a crack. “Hi,” he clears his throat. “I know it’s the last thing you want to do but you should come back in. If you want to come out of here alright, and I know I’m the guy who put you in here so you don’t have to take advice from me. But if you want to sell that you really came here with me and you don’t give a fuck about him, we have to pretend for at least an hour. A half hour. Then I’ll drive us home. And you’ll never have to see me again. Ever.”
He was right. I was angry because I knew he was right. Skipping out on the wedding after being confronted would just confirm to Van and Ethan that I was here for petty reasons. But I don’t give in right away. I let him try to convince me, almost beg me before I open the lock and get out.
“I’ll need five in front of a mirror.”
“Yeah,” this time Harry doesn’t rush in front of me. Nothing else to hide, he walks beside me back to the venue. He waits outside the toilets while I rearrange my face to something decent. I put in some eye drops to clear the red, and take his arm with a fake smile as we get back in.
“You alright?” Van’s cousin asks with a sympathetic smile. For a second I think Harry told him and I’m ready to lay into him right there but Harry clarifies.
“She’s alright. Just some cramps right love?”
“Right,” I look into his eyes, the ones I thought were pretty. Now they just looked the colour of a snake. “Thank you.”
The DJ calls the first dance and everyone looks on with awe. I zone out until Harry’s hand squeezes mine under the table. I snatch it out of his without looking at him, for maybe the first time in my life I don’t care if it offends him.
I’m not present as more couples join the dancefloor. Our table pushes us to go out too and after the millionth time I stand stiffly with Harry as we walk up. I begin to make out people I knew, friends and family of Ethan’s. I make out their surprised looks when they recognize me but I keep my head on Harry’s traitorous chest and dance with him. I hated his guts.
“Excuse me, YN?” After the second song we’re interrupted. I look over to find Ethan’s brother looking at us nervously.
“Oh my god! Look at you!” I immediately crush him to me and he hugs me back with enthusiasm. “You’ve been working out!”
“Yeah,” he takes my hand as I turn my back on Harry. He takes the cue and moves off the floor. I dance with Ethan’s brother. “I started going to the gym. Mum said all the time playing video games wasn’t going to get me a decent girl.”
“And has it?” I ask him, my previous gloomy disposition is replaced by all the love I hold for this kid.
“Not really,” he blushes. “But I’m only 20. I have time yeah?”
“Oh yeah, you’ll find a really nice girl.” I pat his cheek.
“I’ve got to get this!” Ethan’s mum is suddenly near us snapping photos. “Ignore me! Continue what you’re doing!”
“Mum,” he groans and I laugh. When she moves out and the music is in its last chorus he speaks again. “I hope the girl I end up with is even as half as nice as you are.”
“Aw,” my heart is so full right now. It also hurt that I had to cut off contact with these lovely people because of Ethan. How a guy like that came from a family like this is beyond me. “I’m sure you will, you’re too sweet not to.”
“Ethan’s gi-wife. His wife can be a bit mean. We all liked you better.”
I don’t have words to respond back. I rub his shoulder as the song ends.
“She treats him really bad, she’s not always nice to him when mum’s not around. You were so much better.”
“I…” I didn’t want to talk shit about them at their wedding. And I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this. “I’m sure Ethan knows what he’s doing kid. And we can still be friends, my number’s the same if you or your mum are ever around town let me know okay?”
“Okay,” he looks content. I give him one last hug before deciding I was done with the night. But as the dance music comes on, I bump into Ethan’s cousin and we catch up a bit. She also tells me Ethan was an idiot. Even though I wasn’t here for validation, it felt nice knowing people saw my side.
As I head to my table to find Harry, someone catches my arm.
“Why do you keep talking to my family?” Ethan demands. I could tell he was one too many drinks in so I try to make my distance.
“Well they’re coming up to talk to me. I’m just catching up. Despite what a bag of dicks you are, your family is nice.”
I shock myself with how blunt it comes out. Tonight was rubbing off on me—Harry but also everything he did.
“I-I don’t know why you came. Why you’re with him. Van says he’s immature and emotional.”
“Sounds like she had a type,” I raise my eyebrow. I was on a role.
“Then so do you,” he rebuttles.
“Well the great thing about you cheating on me is that we broke up and we don’t have a say in each other’s lives. Your family still wants to talk to me, and they can. I can look at you and see how pathetic I was to have dated you. And it’s alright.”
“What happened to the sweet girl I used to date? My family liked her, not this bitch you became.”
“You cheated on the sweet girl,” I remind him. His jaw twitches.
“There you are,” Harry slides smoothly in beside me. His hand curls around my waist and I lean into him despite wanting to throw it off. “Ethan.”
Ethan looks between us before continuing to address me, “Are you two dating to get back at me or something?”
“You think I care enough about you to do that?” I raise my eyebrow. “I don’t give a shit about you Ethan.”
“Van chose me,” he tries Harry this time knowing I wasn’t bullshitting.
“Good for you,” Harry says with a clear voice but his hand tightens on me. “Congrats. YN and I should get going.”
We walk away in silence to our table. He lets go of me so I can get my purse. My face feels hot as I shuffle through it for the keys. I’m emotional; I feel bad for the sweet girl, the person I still try so hard to be. I’m just a doormat, even Harry saw that and walked all over me.
I’m tempted to leave Harry here, drive home now. But I didn’t want to stoop to levels that low. I know he had no one here and wouldn’t have a ride home. Maybe I should tell him to take the train but-
I hated driving in the dark. I walk to Harry and hand him the keys without a word. He just follows me, but we’re stopped a half a dozen times to say goodbye to people. Van’s cousin, Harry, tells Harry to stay in touch and tries to convince us to visit him in Prague. We put a final show of love on for him, promising soon, before stepping outside and stepping away from each other.
Finally, in the car, I turn on the heating. The evening had taken a chilly turn.
“Music?” Harry asks but I decline. I put my audiobook back on, unstrap my heels, and curl up in the passenger seat. Silently we make our way back to London.
I’m not sure how much time has passed when I wake up. The heat and the audiobook must have put me to sleep. My chair is tilted further back than I had it before, a jacket—Harry’s suit jacket is draped over me. It smells like what I call man. Cologne and something musky. Ethan smelled similarly. Maybe that’s what betrayal smells like, I think bitterly.
I sit up and unfold the jacket from me. We’re in a parking lot, no, services. Harry’s missing and I peer out for a while but I don’t see him anywhere. I start to get worried, it was 9:30 and he couldn’t be missing but I couldn’t sit here any longer.
I put his jacket on and step out. That’s all it takes. I find Harry sitting on the concrete, his back against the back passenger door, playing with a pack of cigarettes.
“Harry?” I confirm. I’d just woken up after all.
“Oh YN sorry,” he sounds tired. I spot a coffee by his feet but I eye the cigarettes.
“The smell of those gives me an instant migraine.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not smoking them. I used to I just…”
When he doesn’t finish the sentence, a specialty of his, I step out of the car and slide down my door beside him. The ground is uncomfortable but I settle in.
“You’re gonna get cold,” he says before noticing I was wearing his blazer.
“You’re not?” I ask.
He holds his coffee up, as if it were a small fire keeping him warm. We sit in silence for a little while, I don’t know why I feel bad for him even though he did all this tonight. Maybe it was like feeling bad for a sad puppy after they chewed through your shoes and you shouted at them. Maybe I just pitied him. I don’t know.
“I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to accept,” he pauses, swallows. “She wasn’t even good for me. She could be so hot and cold, I used to walk on eggshells sometimes just to figure out if she was having a good or bad day. It was exhausting.”
“Hm,” I say to that.
“I don’t know why I thought I hit the jackpot with her. I thought if I let her go I would be the idiot. But now I realize she just made me so emotionally dependant on her, I lost myself when I was with her and when she let me go. I confronted her tonight, about inviting me. She admitted she wanted to see if I’d show, if I was still in love with her enough to show up. She just sent the invite to taunt me.”
I don’t say anything again. I was trying something different after all, I was trying not to be the sweet girl who made everyone feel better. It wasn’t getting me anywhere.
“I’m ashamed of myself,” he says in a quieter tone. “I don’t know who I’ve become. Tricking you like that…I don’t know why you didn’t force me to just walk home.”
“It doesn’t excuse your behaviour, or mean I forgive you.” I caution. “But I know what being in your situation is like. And you’ve been in it for over a year. I can only imagine what life’s like for you. And I thought about it, trust me, but walking home would’ve been cruel.”
“You’re not mean enough,” Harry says with humour.
“Aren’t I?” I look back at him. I don’t understand his expression, I do feel bad for him. But I don’t give into it. I let myself feel my own feelings too.
“Honestly I think you could do it. It would surprise everyone but you could. You should,” he finally says. It’s weird how he got me after only knowing me for a few hours. Most everyone I knew viewed me as 2 dimensional. It was an odd feeling to be seen in more dimensions.
“You’re a good person YN,” he says and my skin flushes in goosebumps. “Too good for people like Ethan or myself. That’s why I was kind of standoffish on our drive, I felt worse the more I got to know you. I should’ve said. But you deserve better.”
I look away from him. Into the night. A few cars are parked around, a kid cries from one of them. I look up at the stars that are barely visible and feel like the moment is a bit surreal. Like I’ll wake up tomorrow morning and think this was all a dream.
“Oh here,” Harry hands me a bag. I take it from him.
“Wow,” I pull out a cakepop.
“They’re good. Really sweet though.”
“I know,” I bite into one, surprised he’d gotten it. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you. You’re selfish and manipulative and I still don’t like you.”
“I wouldn’t expect you not to,” he stands up and dusts himself off. He reaches out a hand to me but I decline. I wanted to sit out here alone a little longer.
I finish the dessert in the cool air, and watch the scragglers move around the lot. People come and go, and I internalize that. I didn’t have to break myself apart to convince people to stay. I had to learn to stop doing that.
When I finally get into the car Harry’s re-routing the gps.
“We can put your audiobook back on?” Harry asks. I shake my head and pull his jacket back over me. Pretty soon I would fall back asleep and close to midnight I would hop over to the driver’s seat as Harry drops himself at home. Our goodbye is short and I watch him walk in before driving away. A part of me feels like this isn’t the end of us, but I’m relieved to see him go.
The next morning I’m right. It does all feel like a dream, but a dream that I feel changed by. Last night was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
I pick up the phone to call my best friend and let her know.
I was changing.
———
TAG: @tiaamberxx
#harry styles fic#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#writingsfromhome#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#fic#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles series#road trip#harry stylesxreader
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The Ex-Text
Prologue (the text)
A/N: warning that this fic does include cheating. I’m trying something new with this format, just a road trip story which is one of my favourite tropes everr. Plus a lot of drama. It was too short to split into parts but I liked the idea of some logues lol. Main should be out soon. Hope y’all like it too. <3
Prologue (text) / Main (ex) / Epilogue (what’s next)
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YN:
“He’s cheating on me,” I spit into the phone. My best friend gasps. “I saw him! He’s fucking cheating on me Taz what do I do? Do I confront him? Should I wait ‘til he gets home?”
“Where are you?” She asks.
I’m standing in front of the glass window to the bar that my boyfriend sits at. He’s facing a woman in black, with his hand on her knee, and a smile brightening his face. I blink, my focus going to the reflection in the glass. I look back at myself, dazed and heartbroken and disheveled.
“I’m-“ my voice cracks. I was not going to fucking cry here. I sniffle and move down the street to a parkette, a bench warmed by the sun invites me to sit down. “I’m at this patch of grass that’s a pathetic excuse for a park. Taz I don’t know what to do!”
“You don’t have to do anything right now. Where are you exactly? Let me come to you! Or come over. Don’t do anything rash-“
“I want to,” I sniffle. I wanted to, but all the energy had been drained from my body as soon as I sat down. “I was planning my future with this fucker. I…I thought he was going to propose soon! I caught him looking at rings the last time we were out remember? Do you…d’you think they were for her? Oh my god I’m such an idiot Ican’tbelieveIdidn’tseeit!”
It wasn’t British of me at all. At all. But I hang my head and sob. I couldn’t hold it in, my future crumbles before my eyes and all I can do is cry.
“Fuck’s sake,” I hear Taz say. “I’m coming to get you.”
I don’t remember much of what happened after that. How long I sat there until Taz found me—she’s tracked my phone. She called us a cab and taken me to her place where I crash on the couch for three days. Ethan had called and texted me, growing progressively worried. Until he showed up at Taz’s and her fiance had kept him out.
I always wanted to be one of those girls who was strong and tough, who could tell a guy who she’d been dating for nearly two years where he can shove it when he cheated on her.
Instead I was the girl who curled up even tighter when she heard his voice at the door. When he shouted her name over her best friend’s fiance’s body (that was built like a brick, I knew he wasn’t getting past).
I was the girl who snuck into the flat when I knew he was gone to work to get everything out with the help of friends.
It was two weeks before I could face him. He’d apologized, tried to give excuses but I was so numb by then I’d just let him ramble before giving an excuse about having to go and leaving him behind. I never quite got the closure I wanted but I was okay with stuffing it into the dark parts of my mind and never thinking about it again.
That is until 10 months later an invitation shows up in my inbox.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say at the notification. My colleague in the next cubicle turns his head and I duck down. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
I click the email subject * Ethan and Van Make it Forever *
If you’re reading this, you mean a lot to us!
Join us on October 17 for a small (medium) celebration of love and commitment. No gifts, just your sexy selves.
Glitter rains down on loop over the invitation while dreamy clouds move on loops from side to side in the back. My own thoughts loop: is this a fucking joke?
“Y/N?”
“Yes?” I look up over the cubicle to where my name’s being called. My manager points to the room he’s in.
“We need minutes?”
“Oh…” I glance at my growing inbox. I didn’t actually have the time to lend a hand but I didn’t know how to say no. “Be there in a minute.”
My colleague beside me glances over and shakes his head. I shrug my shoulders and take my laptop in to spend the next hour in excruciating pain as I take pointless notes on a meeting I have no clue about. By the end of it my fingers are cramping and my inbox had doubled.
I had forwarded the email to my best friend by then and when I get back to my desk, collapsed in my seat, I read all of her 13 texts. They weren’t family friendly and they definitely make me feel better. I wasn’t crazy. My ex who cheated on me had invited me to his wedding.
My phone vibrates, Taz. But instead it’s a number I’d only ever gotten bad news from. One-time bad news I’d dubbed the ex-text. I open it:
Did you get the invite too?
•••••
Harry:
The invitation wakes me up, and I untangle myself from the warm body beside me to get my phone. Apparently I’d missed a phone call too.
I open the email and can’t help the laugh that comes out. Obviously nothing is funny, it’s unbelievable.
“Hm?” The woman beside me stirs, but my eyes are glued to the invitation. What a bitch, I can’t believe she had the audacity to invite me to her wedding!
I remember it so vividly, my girlfriend of years telling me she wasn’t in love with me anymore. That she met someone new. I’d asked how long, I had to ask again before she told me. Since the spring. So I had been walking around and living my life for over three months thinking my girlfriend loved me, that we were soulmates and all the other bullshit.
I couldn’t be depressed, I lived that next month with a drink attached to my lips at any given moment. It ruined me. It ruined my whole life. And then I got angry, that was when the drunk phone calls and late night messages began. I found out the person who replaced me. I stalked him on the internet and when I found out he had a girlfriend, it was my lucky day.
I’d texted my ex then, hoping this piece of news would be the end of that relationship. She’d come crawling back to me. Instead she had said, I know. He’s breaking up with her he just needs some time. Harry nothing’s changed, we’re not going to get back together.
I put on my detective hat, somehow through some intense stalking and help from a friend I’d gotten this stranger’s number. Then I’d texted her the screenshot, the photos on my ex’s private page of her and him. I was dropping a bomb on this random stranger but she needed to know. That’s how I justified it.
It was over a year since this all came about and everyone in my life expected me to be over it. Including my ex. I text her, hoping her number was still the same.
Are you really inviting me to your wedding with him?
She responds immediately, I thought we were at a place where I could. That you could be happy for me? It’s been so long.
She was delusional. How could I ever be happy for me after she left me like that, blindsided and broken hearted. The only conversations between us since then were when she wished me happy birthday. We never spoke.
Did he invite the girl he left behind too? I go with snarky, my favourite tone.
No ofc not. But are you coming? You can bring a + one.
I’ll see
Hope to see you there. xx
She really was delusional. A part of me wanted to show up, prove to her or me or the universe I could get on with my life. But I also didn’t want to be in this alone. I put my skills to work and an hour or so later, after the girl I woke up with had gone home and I put my empty coffee mug in the sink I text her. The stranger whose life I had imploded.
Did you get the invite too?
#harry styles fic#writingsfromhome#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#fic#harry styles angst#harry styles series#prologue#harry stylesxreader#something new#road trip#main is being edited so it’ll be up v soon
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Rules to Break
A/N: not much to say about this, just a super fluff first-impression one shot.
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He noticed her the first time she came in, but only because she was holding a copy of his favourite book. She’d lain it on the countertop as she squinted up at the menu and asked him if they did an iced Americano.
“We do,” he wanted to ask her about the book but when she meets his eye he’s suddenly nervous. He could tell she was in a rush, after working as a barista for nearly two years Harry could tell that when a customer looked past you even when they looked directly at you…it was not time to engage in small talk. “Is that all?”
“Uhm yes,” she bites her lip and glances at her phone. “Will that be long?”
He was right, “I’ll get started on it now for you.” Harry’s coworker shoots him a look as she moves aside from the espresso machine. He was supposed to be on cash strictly. But Americanos were easy and there were only two people in line.
“Pretty privilege,” she mutters. She was always going on about how life was easier for pretty people. Harry didn’t disagree, but also thought she benefitted from the same thing. He thought it was smarter not to say anything lest she bite his head off though.
“Here you are,” Harry pushes the drink at the pickup counter. She looks up from her phone, book tucked under her arm.
“Oh! That was quick. Thank you,” she smiles at him and this time she looks at him. Why did she make him so damn nervous?
Harry saw her a few times a week since then, usually with a friend but there were some times by herself in the far corner of the cafe. Her headphones on and typing away furiously at a laptop.
He never denied he was a romanticist, he fell in love easily and always. It never stuck of course, he was in love with the idea in his head, and it was easy when you worked in a cafe that was a revolving door for interesting people carrying small pieces of their lives on show while he made their drinks or took their orders.
The danger came from regulars; he had a rule not to romanticize regulars. But it was a rule he had to break when it came to her.
Today, she orders her usual and finds the only available seat near the sink. It was exam season so the cafe was mostly filled with students. Which meant it was too busy for Harry to keep an eye on her, him and his two colleagues work around each other as they pump out drink after drink.
3 hours later, Harry takes his 15 minute break. She’s still at her table, a friend had joined her. They talk animatedly over whatever’s on screen.
While her friend scans the screen, she sits silently. Then her eyes flit up and find Harry’s staring. Shit. He looks down at the water in his hand, turns awkwardly, and shuffles to the break room. It felt like she’d broken the fourth wall…it was uncomfortable as Harry remembers everything he knew about her was her coffee order, a shared book interest, and fantasy. He had to stop doing this.
Harry avoids her general area as he finishes his shift. He takes lunch in the break room, and focuses on the customer in front of him. One after the other.
Close to the end of his shift he risks a glance that way, and he’s surprised to still see her there. She must have ordered something when he was on his break because a second drink and half-eaten sandwich sits on her table.
The woman herself is staring into space, Harry thinks she’s day dreaming but she could be deep in thought. Maybe there was no difference. She snaps out of her thoughts and glances back at her screen. She must have noticed Harry though because she looks back up to him. This time she smiles. Harry nods and turns back to pouring the espresso in front of him.
Why did he nod? Was that supposed to be cool? What the fuck?
This was getting ridiculous. It’s been over a month of romanticizing someone just because she came in with a book. For all he knew she was holding it for a friend. He had to get over this—this was why he had that rule. He could obsess over someone he’d made up in his head for too long if he saw them too often. He had to stop.
“Can I uhm, get you a refill?” Harry decides to approach her table. “Seems like you could use one?”
“Oh,” her voice is soft, surprised when he appears at her table. “As much as I’d love that, I think I’ve had enough coffee for today.”
“Oh,” well that didn’t go how he expected. This was the other part about Harry’s fantasies—the reality always let him down. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she laughs. “Sorry have I been here too long? Are you subtly kicking me out?”
“No!” Harry realizes she’s smiling about it a beat too late. God he was normally not this awkward. He forced a laugh. “You have been here for some time, I thought you could use a refill. What are you working on?”
“Oh this,” she tilts her screen down lower. Government secrets.”
Harry waits a moment, unsure if her deadpan was really good or she was joking. She cracks a smile though and he laughs.
“You’re quite a serious one then,” she opens her screen back up.
“I’m…I’m really not. I’m mostly an idiot, ask my colleagues.” Harry glances back at the other side of the countertop and risks sitting in the seat opposite this woman. “To be honest I think I’m just a bit nervous.”
“Nervous?!”
“You’re intimidating!”
“Me!? Oh my god nobody has ever called me intimidating!”
“Nobody’s ever called me serious!” Harry laughs.
“I guess we don’t know each other at all,” she shakes her head with a laugh. “Intimidating.”
“You come in here regularly and just type away at your laptop all seriously. Your government secrets intrigue me.”
“My government secrets huh?” She smirks and Harry blushes.
“Yeah,” Harry pushes on. “Obviously. What else.”
“So is it true about regulars, do baristas actually remember our drinks?”
“Yeah,” Harry’s relieved at the switch in subject. “Iced Americano, sometimes with an almond croissant.”
“Hey that’s me,” she grins. “I’m actually writing a…well it’s supposed to be a novel. Right now it’s a fucking mess.”
“That’s what my mum calls me,” Harry jokes. “But I’m sure your work is great.”
“Nah not yet,” she leans forward on the table. “Does your mum actually?”
“She’s said it once, last Christmas.” Harry wasn’t sure if this was oversharing but she nods for him to continue. “I graduated with all these distinctions and now I’m just working at a coffee shop. I think she’s worried I’m not going to do anything with my life.”
“It’s not all cracked up to be,” she rests her head on her hand. “I had a job right out of uni, hated my life for over a year before I just said fuck it and quit. I live at home again, like I’m a bloody teenager. But…I think I’m happier.”
“I’ll put you on a call with my mum, say that exact same thing to her. Please?”
The pair laugh out loud, any awkwardness from before completely gone.
“It’s like I’m so burnt out from studying and never getting a break. I don’t want one part of my life to just rollover into the next.”
“Yeah!” she agrees.
“And, she doesn’t think it’s a real job, but I model on the side. I actually like doing it with this job so-“
“Of course you do!”
“What?” Harry watches her lean back in her chair and cross her arms.
“I should’ve know you model.”
“You should’ve?” He can’t help but grin.
“Yeah,” she looks like she’s putting the pieces together about Harry. “Your government secrets no long intrigues me, I know what you use them for.”
The unexpected joke makes Harry laugh, a bit too loud. His team lead calls out his name and reminds him his break is about done.
“Sorry,” she whispers to him. “Didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”
“It’s alright.” Harry chuckles. “I’m off in a half hour anyway, I haven’t got much work to go back to.”
“Oh,” she nods stiffly. “Alright.”
“Okay,” Harry gets up. “I’ll see you around Iced Americano.”
“That’s an awful nickname.”
Harry just shrugs and gets back to work, which is mostly cleaning up at this point. He realizes he should have asked if she had plans, they could grab a bite to eat since he knows she’s been here most of the day. Maybe he should ask now.
Harry peeks over the sink but her seat is empty and everything is gone from the table. He glances around the room but she had left. Disappointed. He felt a bit let down.
On the other hand, he realizes that this was the first time someone in his head didn’t let him down. She was bright, and funny, and really nice to him even though he cringed at how creepy he’d been. The disappointment stabs at him again. Oh well. There was always next time.
Once his shift finishes, and he changes out of the T-shirt that smelled like burnt coffee beans, Harry says his goodbyes and leaves. He turns to the right where the bus stop is but pauses when he spots a familiar figure on the bench.
“I was going to go home. But then I decided I would wait out your shift. And then it felt weird to go back inside so…”
“Aren’t you cold?” It was a brisk December evening.
“Fuck yes,” she hops up and walks over to Harry. “D’you want to grab a bite?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he couldn’t hide the relief in his voice. She had stayed.
“I know a good spot but it’s about 20 minutes walk?”
“I’m alright, I thought you were cold?”
“Not with company,” she threads her arm through his and they laugh at her cheesy response.
“It’s the company you make along the way,” Harry joins in.
“Exactly!”
They head in her direction and it occurs to Harry. “I don’t even know my company’s name.”
“Oh my god,” she laughs and sticks her free hand out to Harry as they continue walking. “I’m Y/N!”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Harry.” he shakes her hand and they laugh again at how weird they’re being.
“I know,” she smiles up at him. “Your name tag.”
“So I’m the only one who’s been in the dark.”
“‘Fraid so. Remember when you thought I was intimidating?”
“And you thought I was serious,” Harry laughs. She was an open book and he was always cracking jokes. How quickly they went from strangers to something else.
“We were naive then..but I’m still interested in this modelling you do. What’s it for?”
Harry explains his other job to her, the kinds of shoots he landed. What he was aiming for gig-wise. By the time they reach their destination Harry had asked Y/N about her novel and she was happily explaining to him what she wanted to write. He was happily listening.
Harry was glad he’d broken his rule because the mysterious girl in the corner of the cafe was splitting the mystery wide open. And turns out she was actually really cool.
#harry styles fic#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#writingsfromhome#harry styles x reader#fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#this is pure fluff#one shot#harry styles one shot#harry stylesxreader#barista!harry#i was listening to valley and this sort of#just came forth#lol
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... in love
a little more than 2.5k on double dates, pencil tapping, and a bit of switcheroo. Part two of Like a Fool!
You were starting to think you were being stood up.
Or maybe that it was all an elaborate prank in the first place.
You fidgeted in your booth, flicking through your phone in an attempt not to look like such a loser, sitting all by yourself in the crowded diner. The last text you’d received had been from Harry, assuring you they were on their way.
He was supposed to be coming with Casey, his girlfriend, and some guy he was hooking you up with. You really hadn’t wanted to come, didn’t want to see him act all mushy with the new love of his life, but he’d insisted you should at least give this Niall guy a try - “You got me with Casey, love, I might as well return the favor.”
And he pouted at you, and held your face in his hands, because maybe he might have been a little tipsy, and so you really couldn’t say no. How could you? You weren’t really too regretful of your decision to agree immediately after, when he planted a kiss on your forehead and grinned at you and said you’d love Niall, but now you really were regretting it.
Until he pranced into the diner, seeming to light up the entire place with just one dimpled smile, and making your heart race and butterflies erupt in your tummy with just a single glance in your direction.
But then his gaze flicked away from you and to the girl next to him, to Casey. Then he was giving that gorgeous grin to her, and whispering something in her ear, and your heart sunk to your stomach as regret - and jealousy - flooded through you once more.
Harry called your name as he walked over, shrugging off his coat as he slid into the booth next to you. “You should have seen the bloody traffic, love, absolutely ridiculous, and Niall here, for all his strengths -”
He paused when he realized Casey and Niall were hovering on the other side of the table, looking hesitant. He raised a brow. “Wanna sit down, or no?” he asked, and you frowned. “H, don’t you want to sit next to Casey?” you muttered, and Harry paused.
“Oh - well, yeah, yeah, of course, but, erm - ‘s better to talk across, yeah?”
Casey and Niall shared a glance, and you felt your face heat, but then they sat down and Harry cleared his throat. “Right, then,” he began, grinning at Casey, “here we are.” His gaze flicked to Niall, who looked a bit awkward, and then he introduced you to him.
“Nice to meet ya,” he said, an Irish lilt to his voice, and you gave him a smile.
“Yeah, ditto,” you replied.
He was pretty cute, you had to admit, with blond-tinged brown hair and bright blue eyes. You couldn’t quite gauge his personality yet - he seemed terribly awkward at the moment. Which made sense, really, because the whole situation was kind of inherently awkward.
“Niall here’s in my ethics class,” Harry was explaining. “Remember that exam a few weeks ago?” You gave a slight nod, and Harry went on, “Yeah, well, this bastard was sat the row behind me and would not stop tapping his pencil.”
Finally, Niall broke a smile and shook his head. “Oh, please. I did it for about half a second.” Harry shrugged. “Well, either way, you still did it. And then afterwards, when I went and yelled at him, he just laughed and asked if I wanted to go and get a pint.”
“Sounds like a nice meet cute,” you said, and Harry grinned. “You betcha,” he replied. “But anyway - enough about me. Introduce yourself, Ni - and properly this time.” Niall frowned. “Erm… I’m not quite sure…”
“C’mon, Ni,” Casey giggled, nudging his shoulder, “give us a proper dating show intro.”
Niall rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he leaned into her, and you wondered for a second if he wasn’t there because of you, or even Harry. “I’m, er - I’m Niall. Twenty seven, Irish, business major, virgo, and lover of Guinness and long walks on the beach.”
“Bravo!” Harry exclaimed, giving him a round of applause. Then he turned to you expectantly, and you did the same, copying Niall exactly - age, where you’re from, major, zodiac sign - and then finished off with, “... and lover of rom-coms and hey - long walks on the beach.”
“What a coincidence,” Niall said with a grin.
Then a waitress came over for orders. You got your usual, and Harry got his, and Casey got what Niall did. After she went off, Harry started up the conversation again. He was pretty great at that, you thought, entertaining a crowd and keeping the talking going, and you had to stop yourself from admiring his easy jokes and casual smiles.
Instead, you focused on Niall. Who was nice! Seemed it, anyway. You liked him a lot more once he warmed up. He had a nice laugh, and he seemed like the most cheerful guy you’d ever met.
It was pretty late by the time you were all paid and heading outside. Just from the way you’d been sitting in the booth and the way the diner was crowded, Casey and Niall were just slightly ahead, and were talking as they waited for you and Harry to catch up.
It was dark, and pretty cold, and Harry placed a hand on your back, rubbing slightly to warm you up as you stepped outside. “‘s cold,” he murmured, hands fidgeting with his coat. “Do you want -?”
You bit your lip, frowning as you shook your head. “H,” you said quietly, glancing at Casey. He blushed red, looking embarrassed, and mumbled, “Right. I just -” He stopped, and then finished, “Sorry.” He sped up slightly, a smile on his face as he approached Casey and shrugged off his jacket.
“You look cold, love.”
“Aw, Har,” Casey giggled, going up on tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.
You looked away.
Niall caught your gaze, giving you a bit of a smile, and you walked over to him. “So,” you sighed. “This was fun, huh?” He nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah. We should do it again sometime.”
“Hm, yeah. It’s just so hard to coordinate schedules, you know?” You glanced over at Harry and Casey and then back to Niall. “I dunno if we’ll be able to get all four of us. Two people’s easier, though, right? Maybe it should just be you and me…”
Niall grinned. “Yeah, maybe.”
You grinned right back, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear before asking, “Do you live close?” Niall shrugged. “Not too too far. Do you? Maybe we’re closer than Harry and Casey.”
“Yeah, we might be,” you said, beginning to wonder just how fast Niall was planning to take this. You supposed you weren’t opposed to having a drink in your flat with just him… You didn’t have to answer, though, since Harry came up behind you.
“Right, then, you two, let’s try and say our goodbyes, hm?” he said jokingly. “You can always see each other tomorrow. Or exchange numbers, yeah?” Niall glanced at you, and then told Harry, “Actually, we were thinking maybe I could give her a ride home. Probably closer…”
Harry frowned. “Nah, it’s fine. We’ll just drive you home. You’re in opposite directions, anyway.” He put an arm around Casey’s shoulders and then his other around Niall. “C’mon, Ni,” he said, steering him away. “Bye!” he called back to you. “See you later!”
You gave Niall a sympathetic smile as he glanced back at you over his shoulder.
Text me, you mouthed, holding up your phone.
He nodded, and turned away, and got into Harry’s car.
For a moment, you didn’t move. You just stood there, watching Harry pull away.
It was cold.
You blew a breath out, watching the puff of white that floated into the air.
And then you walked to your car.
***
“You,” Harry declared, “need to get laid.”
You sighed, looking up at him from your textbook. The two of you were in your flat, “studying.” Casey had a class, and Harry suggested meeting up to study but hadn’t even opened a book yet.
“I was going to. Last night. But you dragged Niall away!”
Harry made a face. “Yeah, well, Niall’s sketchy, anyway. You can’t date a guy who has a pencil tapping habit.” You shrugged, looking down at your book again. “Don’t worry, I’ll hide all my pencils tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah, he’s coming over.”
You looked up as a beat of silence hung in the air, and then Harry asked, “Who, Niall?”
“No, H, the other guy who taps his pencil like mad.”
“He’s coming over?”
You frowned, reaching over and tapping on his head. “Are you okay? Do you need a minute to process?” You leaned forward. “Your plan’s working, H. Calm down.” Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “This wasn’t my plan, I just -”
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in!” you called, sliding off the bed and stretching towards the ceiling.
Casey walked in, her gaze already on Harry. “You didn’t answer my texts, Har,” she said with a pout. I thought we were gonna go for coffee!” Harry blinked, and then scrambled off the bed, shoving books into his bag. “I am so sorry, Case, I completely forgot. We were - well, we were studying, and I… We can probably go now, yeah?”
“I guess,” Casey sighed. She glanced over at you after a second and said, “Hey.”
“Hey,” you said back, a bit awkwardly.
Harry clapped his hand lightly against your shoulder as he passed, murmuring a goodbye before heading out with Casey. He didn’t shut the door, and a little piece of your heart fractured as you heard Casey giggle at something he said.
Somehow, you weren’t very excited to see Niall that night.
***
A few days later, and you and Niall were in the library.
Harry was, too.
He was sat at a table, in the back, where you and Niall couldn’t see him.
He was supposed to be studying.
You and Niall were leaned towards each other, and you were smiling. Smiling bright and big and beautiful. Niall whispered something in your ear, and you laughed, and Harry felt something sink in the pit of his stomach.
His phone buzzed.
Casey.
Harry didn’t even look at the message, just flipped his phone over and looked down at the book in front of him. He stared at the words, but didn’t process them. He could only think about that night a few weeks ago. That party.
The kiss.
And then a few days after that - his first date with Casey. He remembered saying, I don’t like you like that without thinking, and then leaving, and everything sinking in on his way to meet Casey. He’d really believed it back then.
But now, seeing you with Niall, seeing you happy, seeing you - he looked up, just in time to see you melt into him, into his lips, and then immediately looked back down again. He shut his eyes, remembering when he’d kissed you…
Harry stood up, and grabbed the book and his phone, and left the library.
“I know,” Casey said when Harry told her they should take a break.
Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it, and then opened it again and said, “What?”
Casey said your name. Her voice was soft, barely there. Like it hurt her a little to say it.
There was a beat of silence, and then Harry closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Yeah, Har,” Casey murmured, “me too,” and Harry looked at her again. He bit his lip. “I don’t know what to do, but I - I don’t think it’s fair. To you.” Casey smiled, just a bit, and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said.
Harry frowned. “For what?”
She shrugged, pulling away and running a hand through her hair. “For telling me. I’m glad you’re - you know, you’re…” She sighed. “I don’t know. I just - I don’t get why you were so set on her and Niall. I really thought…” Another sigh. “I thought you were over her.” She looked down at her toes. “And then you sat next to her. And drove Niall home. Jesus, Har, that car ride was so awkward, and -” One more sigh, and then she said, “I’ll see you around, Harry, yeah?”
Harry swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”
She left the room, and Harry stared at the door, feeling just a little bit like a fool.
***
“I’m sorry,” Harry breathed as soon as you opened the door. “I’m so sorry.”
You frowned, your hand still on the doorknob. “Um… about what?”
“I lied to you.”
Your brows jumped. “About what?” you said again.
“I don’t want you with Niall. Jesus, I’d rather die than see you with Niall.”
“Wow, this pencil thing is really serious, huh?” you asked with a smile.
He didn’t return your smile, just shook his head. “Not because of that. I don’t want you with anybody. I just - I want you with me.” Your smile faded. “I thought… I thought you didn’t like me like that,” you whispered.
“Well,” Harry laughed wryly, “would you look at that. I do.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Niall’s here,” you said softly.
Harry’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“I can’t do this right now,” you said.
“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered.
You cleared your throat. “I know, H.”
“Please,” he begged, “please forgive me.”
“I will - I do, but -” You shrugged helplessly. “Niall.”
“He fancies Casey,” Harry blurted, happy to finally have an answer to something.
You gave a half smile. “Right.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry said again, and you laughed softly. “I know, H.”
***
“I’m getting deja vu,” Harry murmured in your ear as he opened the door to the diner.
You shrugged. “Least the traffic wasn’t too bad.”
“Yeah, now we’re fashionably late rather than irritably late,” Harry said with a smile, and you nudged his shoulder as you walked up to the table where Casey and Niall were sitting. You frowned when you saw them sitting across from each other.
Both you and Harry hesitated before sitting down, and Niall looked up, smirking. “What, now sitting across from each other isn’t better for talking?” Harry groaned, rolling his eyes, and shoved him slightly. “Sod off and scoot, Horan.”
Casey laughed, scooching over so Niall could sit next to her.
Niall had been really understanding when you’d broken up with him. He’d said he wasn’t very surprised, too. Which was a bit embarrassing. But he was so nice about it, and apparently wasn’t too upset, since he agreed on another double “date” with Casey and Harry. While you and Harry were (technically) officially together, though, Niall hadn’t quite confessed to Casey yet.
You had a feeling he’d do it tonight.
You sat down, and Harry sat next to you, and Niall started talking about some project he was working on. Harry replied, making some dumb joke, and this time, you didn’t stop yourself from watching him fondly, feeling a smile on your lips for no reason other than the fact that you were with him.
Harry probably noticed you staring at one point, because he stopped talking and grinned, pressing a kiss to your lips. You giggled and leaned in, letting yourself get lost in him, in his kiss, like a fool in love.
Niall and Casey both groaned, and Niall threw a french fry at you.
Harry just kept kissing you, throwing his middle finger up in retaliation.
Yeah, you thought. A fool in love.
***
la fin <3
haha that ending was really cheesy wasn’t it slkdfj
Hope you liked it though! thanks for reading lol
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I Guess So
just under 400 words on a hammered tipsy reader who wants to drive. It really is difficult to argue with Harry Styles.
***
Harry grinned as you leaned into him, stumbling out of the bar just a few minutes before sunrise. You were pretty hammered, giggling nonsense as you buried your nose in his side and let him lead you to the car.
But then you steered to the wrong side - to the driver’s side rather than the passenger’s. Harry raised an eyebrow. “What’cha doing there, love?” he asked, and you pulled out of his grasp to lean against the door. “I,” you declared proudly, “am going to drive.”
Harry bit back a smile. “Sure about that, love?”
You smiled, batting your eyelashes as you held out your hand for the keys. “Yessir,” you slurred. “So… gimme the keys.” Harry shook his head, laughing as he reached forward to lead you back to the other side.
“You’re pissed, love,” he told you, trying to guide you around, but you shook your head and stood firmly in place. “I,” you repeated stubbornly, “am going to drive.” Harry sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and said, “Absolutely not.”
“Why?” you whined, pouting up at him adorably.
“Because you are drunk,” Harry said.
You blinked slowly, as if this was new information. “I am?”
“Yes, darling,” Harry said.
There was a beat of silence as your gaze turned serious, and then you broke into a smile and giggled softly, leaning into his chest. “You’re so hard to argue with,” you whispered, and Harry raised an eyebrow, rubbing your back as you slid your arms around his waist.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” you murmured, pulling back slightly to smile up at him. “I can never concentrate on what you’re saying,” you said softly, “because you’re always talking… or yelling… or shouting… and then I get distracted by your lips… and then - and then when you’re really mad,” you went on, tracing your finger against his jawline, “you clench your jaw and get all… angry…” You sighed, running your fingers through his hair. “And your eyes… get all mad… and they’re so…” You giggled, leaning into him. “Your eyes are so pretty, Harry.”
Harry flushed, kissing the top of your head, and said, “Well, thank you.”
You looked up at him, sighing again. “So I guess you can drive.”
“I guess so,” Harry laughed.
***
that was kinda short hehe but I hope you liked it
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