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chasingafterinfinity · 7 years

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Chapter Three.

“Are you drunk?”

“Just a little.”

“It’s half ten in the morning and you’re sloshed.”

previous chapter.

Skylar groaned, stretching her arms and legs out beneath her duvet as the sunlight filtered in through her curtain. She sat up slowly, knuckling at her bleary brown eyes before slipping from beneath the warmth encasing her and out of the comfort of her bed. Her dragged along the cold hardwood floors before she flung open her door.

What she'd been expecting was for the door directly across the hall to be shit with Harry still sleeping peacefully behind it. That wasn't the case, though. The door hung wide open to reveal an empty room, the bed Made and everything just as she'd left it after Zayn's last visit.

A deep frown settled on her features before she slipped back into her bedroom, changing out I her pajamas and into a soft, black, oversized sweater that hung off one shoulder with a white anchor in the middle. She tugged a well worn pair of dark wash skinny jeans up her thin legs and slipped a pair of socks into her small feet before covering them in a pair of black, calf high boots.

She slipped a cream beanie over her hair to take it, throwing the matching scarf around her neck after putting on a necklace and pair of earrings. She then slipped down the hall to the bathroom, fishing out her mascara and eyeliner after quickly brushing her teeth. She lined her eyes and coated her eyelashes with mascara before coating her lips in lip balm. She darted back to her room, shrugging on her coat and grabbing her keys before tucking them into her pocket with her lip balm and shutting the door.

She hurried into the cold February air, the chill nipping at her nose and cheeks as she made her way out to her car, keys in hand. She unlocked it, slipping quickly in and cutting it on, making sure the year was in fully blast before back out onto the road. Her hands were shaking, but she couldn't decide if it was because he'd lied to her the previous night or if it was because she was scared for him and his possible well being. Skylar searched all over for him. Checking the blocks that surrounded the pub she'd found him at.

She had a knack for finding things that didn't want to be found and the churning in her belly left her with the feeling that Harry was no different. She watched as Regent's Park passed by her before she counted the block after it, slowing down to scrutinize the buildings as she drove way below the speed limit.

It didn't take her long to zero in on one building in particular, nestled between a bustling little boutique and a cafe, it was easily the most run down building on the block with its crumbling facade and boarded up windows. Her stomach leaped as she parked by the cafe, slipping from the warmth of her car and back into the cold London weather. She tugged her jacket tighter around her slim figure, burrowing deeper into the scarf as a gust of wind blew past.

The door creakedand groaned on it's hinges, flapping slowly in the wind as she slipped into the building. It was dark and dank and it creeped her out, but the feeling in her stomach told her that this was it. This was where Harry stayed. The first floor was destroyed. The walls were crumbling and the wallapaper was peeling in whole sheets from the walls in places and water dripped onto the tile floor. There was a beat up old desk placed in a corner crookedly, paintings hung haphazardly from the walls, some with shattered glass.

She again, hugged her coat tighter around her figure. The building left her with an uneasy feeling as she made her way up a set of broken, creaky stairs. The second floor was in much worse shape than the first, the roof sagging in and water dripping from noticeable holes. There were holes in the drywall and the wind whistled through a busted window to the right. Off to the left, shoved into the driest spot in the room was a single mattress with a few ratty blankets and a flat, dirty pillow.

An old, rusted drum was a few yards away from it, a pile of random pieces of wood and twigs and paper laying next to it. Her eyes took in the scene before her, her heart clenching in her chest from sadness. Sadness that he now had to live like that. That he was without a home and a family to live and take care of him anymore and she wondered how people could be so cruel to those closest to them.

With a steeled resolve, she decided that if she could ever find him again, she was going to ask him if he wanted her spare room. All he needed was someone to believe in him again, she was sure of it. She spun on her heel, her heart hammering in her chest as a tall figure leaned lazily against the doorway.

"Found my little shithole, yeah?" His deep voice slurred.

Skylar's heart dropped as she took a step closer to his figure. Her lips parted slightly as she drank him in in the daylight. His eyes were bleary and bloodshot, unable to focus on her or anything around them as his tall figure swayed. His curls were pushed back with a swatch of cloth and his face was smudged with dirt, a bottle of whiskey clasped tightly in his right hand.

"Are you drunk?" She asked, disbelief coloring her tone as her eyes rapidly roved across his features.

Harry's lips quirked upwards into a sickening smirk, eyebrows perched high on his forehead as he stumbled toward her.

"Just a little." He replied, holding his pointer finger and his thumb of his free hand close together to gesture.

Skylar's nose wrinkled in disgust as she took a step back.

"It's half ten in the morning and you're sloshed." She murmured, trying to make sense of it all.

She didn't understand any of it. Didn't understand how he went from one of the biggest names in the industry with a nice home, a loving family, and a beautiful wife to the man standing in front of her now. He looked broken and lost, the shell of the man he was little over a year ago . Harry shrugged his shoulders as he stumbled past her, face planting onto the mattress before turning his face to look at her.

"You shouldn't be here." He muttered, bringing the bottle in his hand to his mouth as he took a large sip.

She waited for his face to screw up from the bitter burn it left, but he never did. He was all too used to covering up the bitter sting of divorce and rejectionfrom his family with the numbness the bottle offered him. She pinched her lips together, arms crosses in front of her chest as she narrowed her eyes on his figure.

"You aren't either. You promised that you'd stay until I got up this morning. I was worried when I couldn't find you." She said, her tone resolute.

"Don't need someone like me round, kid. Do yourself a favor and pretend you never even saw me." He muttered, rolling over on the mattress until his back faces her.

Skylar sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat at his end to the conversation. She spun on her heel, shaking her head as she made her way back towards the stairwell. Hey heart broke in two for him as she exited the dilapidated building and found her car.

She wasted no time in pulling her phone out once she was out on the road, her fingers tracing an all too familiar phone number before putting it her ear. It rang twice before he picked up.

"I need your help." She said, switching on her right blinker.

"Morning to you too, babe." His voice was sleepy and comforting. A familiarity that she'd grown up with.

"Morning, Zayn. But I do really, really need some advice." She repeated as she made the turn onto the main street.

"What kind of advice could you possibly need at half ten in the morning? On a Saturday, no less." Zayn muttered.

Skylar could hear him shuffling around through the speaker before she heard his deep breath as he muttered for her to shoot. She wasted no time in launching into the story about last night and this morning.

She unlocked her door as she finished rambling, listening to it as it clicked shut before toeing off her boots clumsily and slipping out of her coat.

"Honestly, babe? I think you're fucking mental for even bringing him home with you last night and I'd rather not even get started on you looking for him. Are you wanting to get yourself killed? Where the fuck was Niall when all this was going on?"

Skylar huffed as she rolled her eyes, flipping down into the chair in the living room as she listened to Zayn ramble on about how dangerous and stupid it'd been of her. It was the same spiel she'd heard from Niall the night before and Skylar was tired of being scolded.

"Zayn, it's fine. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself. I don't need you and Niall handling all my grunt work. I was trying to be nice." She snapped, lips curving into a thin line.

He snorted on the other line, "Have you looked in the mirror lately, Skylar? You barely weigh eight and a half stones!"

"I have, arsehole. I can hamdle myself." She muttered crossly as she slumped down in the chair. "Niall was over for a while last night while he was here. Threatened his life."

Zayn cackled into the phone as Skylar fought back her own smile. Niall was the least intimidating of the two with his soft, round face and wide, innocent blue eyes.

"What should I do, Z? He lives in some broken down building on this gross little mattress. Nobody should have to live like that. It was awful." She said, clutching her phone tighter between her fingers.

"I dunno, poppet. You can't help someone that doesn't want to help themselves. Where's his family at?" Zayn replied through a yawn.

"I don't know. That's the thing." She said, her fingers moving to pick at a loose thread on the arm of her chair.

"Maybe he doesn't have any?" He suggested.

"Z, I know he has family. He has a mum and a lovely sister and a beautiful wife and-" She began before he cut her rambling off.

"How the hell do you know so much about him, Sky? Were you stalking the poor bloke or sommat?" He said sharply, his tone accusatory.

"No, you twat. He's Harry bloody Styles!" She snapped, eyes narrowing as her lips formed a thin line.

"You mean that damn singer you were all but in love with back in secondary school?!" He cried incredulously.

"The very same." She answered, giving a firm nod of her head.

"Did you kidnap him?! Jesus fucking Christ, Skylar Rae! He's an international singer! How the fuck did you just happen to find him on the street? Homeless, no less. The man's bloody rich, for crying outloud!" Zayn cried out, his voice raising in pitch with panic. Skylar could picture his hand shoving roughly through his black hair.

"That's what I can't figure out. He just kind of fell out of the media and shit, like, a year ago and next thing I know I'm picking his drunk arse up off the sidewalk in front of that gross little pub down the block from the library! None of it makes sense!" She replied, her own voice raising both in tone and in pitch.

Nothing made sense and Harry was as closed off as they came.

"I dunno, dove. You should stay away from him, though. No telling what he's gotten himself into of he lost everyone and everything in his life." Zayn reasoned with a heavy sigh.

Skylar's shoulders slumped as she let out a sigh of her own. Maybe Zayn and Niall were right. Maybe she should steer clear of Harry. Her heart felt heavy as she muttered out an agreement to Zayn, promising to call him again later in the week before hanging up.

next chapter.

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