#writingsfromhome
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Impossibly Real
A/N: cute little story about being in a rough dating world and having a nice neighbour friend.
Part 2
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I memorize the face on my phone whilst standing in the middle of my building lobby. I study it as if I hadn’t been staring at his pictures since we both swiped right a couple weeks ago.
“Hot date?” A voice calls out. I look up to the source—one of my neighbours with takeaway in one hand and a case of beer in the other. The smell of his dinner makes my stomach rumble—I’d skipped dinner myself for this 8pm date.
“A very hot date,” I respond. Harry was one of the first people I’d interacted with when I moved to this complex a year and a half ago. He’d helped me move my boxed mattress in and I thanked him with a lukewarm beer. Ever since, we’d pick up on conversation every time we saw each other.
Most of those times were when we’d both be rushing out to work in the morning. Sometimes he’d walk to the tube with me, both of us going in opposite directions. Other times his girlfriend would pick him up.
“Let’s see,” he switches his beer to the other hand and holds his hand out.
I pretend to open the app and look for my date’s profile as if it hadn’t been open for the last three hours. He makes a sound of approval when I pass it over.
“Right?” I grin as he scans the profile.
I wasn’t always lucky in love. When Harry first met me I was fresh out of a 3 year relationship, and the only things to follow were bad dates and lonely nights.
“Likes pizza?” Harry says like he’d just caught sight of the guy’s private pictures.
“Yeah? So what?” I feel my defences go up. “Who doesn’t?”
“Yeah but that’s so…basic.” He hands the phone back. “That’s like saying ‘Drinks tea’ or ‘breathes air’.”
“No it’s not!” I wanted this to be a good one so badly, I wouldn’t hear any of Harry’s slander. “It’s relatable, and shows he’s down to earth.”
Harry groans. “Remind me what you do for work?”
I squint at him, unsure where he was going with his. “Analyst.”
“Ah,” he switches his beer back to his other hand and it snaps me out of the moment. I always lost track of time talking to Harry and this couldn’t be one of those times. I had somewhere to be!
“Ah what?” I glance at the door.
“As an analyst you’re used to reading into things-“
“Piss off!” I shut him down. “I’m leaving now.”
“I’m joking!” Harry calls out. “I’m sure he’s a great guy.”
I don’t respond to him as I walk away but he calls out my name.
“You look great, it’ll be a good date.”
“Fingers crossed,” I echo. “Enjoy your night.”
I find a taxi quickly and sit on my hands the whole way there so I don’t pick at my nails. There was no such thing as out of my league, I remind myself. He was just going to be a guy. A good looking guy.
***
“I’m getting a bit tipsy,” Dave admits. It was half past 9 and we’d had 5 drinks total, one of those being a nervous shot when he hadn’t showed up in the first ten minutes.
“We should get something to eat!” I suggest.
He grimaces. “It’s a bit overpriced in here.”
Oh. He was cheap.
That was rude. I snap out of my darkening thoughts. I couldn’t help it: not only was Dave late, he looked 5 years older than his pictures, which wasn’t a bad thing, but he was also 5 inches shorter than his profile stated.
It was awkward when he came in and I got up to hug him. I’d worn my 3 inch heels expecting to still come to his chest but we’d met at eye level instead. I didn’t want to make it awkward so I had sat down quickly. I regretted wearing these heels. They were chaffing against my feet even whilst sitting.
And the whole evening had been stiff conversation, like rubbing sandpaper against itself. It had ended in a dull evening. He was cute. That was all he had going for him.
“There’s a really good pizza place around here!” I say casually, like I hadn’t Googled the vicinity for an hour after we’d made plans. “I heard it was rated top 10 in the city.
His grimace comes back, it made him more unattractive the more he did it.
“I can go for some chips. There’s probably one down the road, you alright for a walk?”
“Great!” Maybe some fresh air and a change of scenery could spice the night up.
He pays the bill—maybe he wasn’t so cheap, I think. That is until we get to the chips shop and he hangs back for me to order for us. And pay.
I can already imagine retelling this date to my girl friends. They were all engaged or married so my dating stories were always amusing content for our hangouts.
Crossing from 20 to 30 made the stories more tragic than amusing, but I lived to laugh and that’s what I usually did after getting over bad dates like this one.
“It’s a nice night,” Dave says when we get our chips. He douses his in ketchup like a toddler would. Gah!
“It is…”
“Let’s take these outside.”
I’d rather not, with my heels digging into the backs of my feet and the blisters chafing against the fake leather. But I agree.
“So what’s with the pink?” He asks randomly.
“What?” I say over a mouthful of chip. I didn’t care how disgusting I was at this point. He’d done the bill-for-a-bill thing without asking and I’d lost any hope I had for the evening. I may as well be gross.
“The pink, you’ve got it at the bottoms of your hair and your earrings, your lips and your skirt and your heels-“
“I like pink.”
“That’s obvious,” he says dryly. “Is there a story behind it or something? Usually only schoolgirls wear their favourite colour that much.”
And usually only younger boys have fries with they ketchup rather ketchup with their fries, I want to say. But I keep my mouth shut.
“I think it’s overrated that getting older means getting all serious and boring. Pink’s my favourite colour and the world can know it. Be brighter for knowing it too.”
I keep my tone light yet Dave seems to takes my personal philosophy as a direct attack.
“But it’s a bit juvenile isn’t it? You don’t have to be boring just because you’re an adult but no one’s going to take you much seriously all dressed in pink. It’s a bit childish.”
“Not childish enough for you to want to go on a date with me,” I say. My pink hair was on display in my profile as well as many pink outfits throughout my linked Instagram. I know he’d seen it.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, not like that.” He backtracks. His face turns my favourite colour, even in the dark.
“When grown men are obsessed with Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or whatever, nobody bats an eye. They show up with fictional characters on their shirt and tattooed on their arms and it’s all dandy. But you think the world’s going to take me less seriously because I wear a lot of pink?”
“Okay I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.” Dave backs down like I knew he would. I’d known too many boys like him, who charged up when they thought they had an ounce of intellect over me. Reciprocate with even an ounce of assertive energy and they back down like a well-trained dog.
This night was tragic. My hopes up for nothing. And my feet were blistered for no damn reason.
“I think we’ve understood each other just fine.” I wipe my hands on a napkin and toss the rest of my chips away, ignoring the look Dave gives me. “It was a night, I’m going to head home now.”
“Look I-“
“Goodnight.” I walk away. I had no idea what direction but as long as I can end the night with the hope-zapper Dave.
***
On the lift up to my flat I look at myself in the mirror. Dead eyes, flushed and puffy face from the alcohol, and my hair was voluminous from the windy night air. I couldn’t wait to get to my flat and take my stupid heels off. They were so painful they’d now actually gone numb.
My phone rings as I get to my door. Dave. The nerve of that guy!
I put it on silent and fish out my keys but my phone buzzes a second time and I drop them.
“Fuck!” I say just as the door behind me opens.
“Woah!” Harry steps back into his flat after nearly tripping over my crouched figure.
“Ugh sorry,” I stand back up, keys looped around my finger.
“You’re back early.” Harry slowly eyes me from top to bottom. It makes my stomach feel like a washing machine on high. “Nice night with pizza guy?”
“Pizza guy was just like the others.”
I lean against my door and ignore my phone that’s now gone off for the third time in my purse.
“Fair enough. He did say he likes pizza.”
“Don’t make fun of me,” I whine. “I just wasted £30 on shite company.”
“Can I offer you a beer or have you had too many?”
I look down at my watch. It was half past 10, and I had work tomorrow but life was short and I was miserable so I follow Harry in.
“I’ll just toss this later.”
It’s only then I realize Harry had a trash bag in his hands and he was in his boxers and a robe. He rests the bag near his door and motions to the fridge as he walks down his hall. “Grab me one too?”
I’d been in Harry’s flat a few time, once when I baked too many sugar cookies for Christmas and he invited me in to eat with him. Another time when he was having a birthday party. I had thought it was cute his friends had done that for him old school. The last time was when my wifi stopped working one weekend and I had to ask him to use his. That was a nice day, both of us were going through busy season and had worked side by side on our laptops until Harry announced we were losers and should stop working to get dinner and watch a movie. That was one of my favourite days living in this complex so far.
I’m still standing in his kitchen when he comes out with sweatpants.
“Why are you still standing there?”
I look down at my shoes and so does he.
“Don’t you want to take those off?” Harry lifts one brow, confused.
“I’m scared.” I say. I didn’t know what I’d find. I felt like I was standing in a pool of blood.
“Why?” Harry was lucky he didn’t know the fear of taking off awful shoes after a long day of breaking them in. Men were lucky that way.
I shift my heel away from the back of the shoe and pain shoots up. It sounds sticky. I whimper. “Can you get me a chair?”
“What did you wear?” Harry’s staring at them with a mixture of fear and confusion. He carries one of his dining chairs to me. “Those are like, torture heels.”
“Tonight was torture.” I sit down and cross my foot over my knee. I take a deep breath. Harry hovers above me not able to look away. “Here goes nothing.”
I pry the shoe away and nearly cry.
“Oh my god!” Harry shouts. “Yo-you’re bleeding! What the f-“
“Oh my god,” I was dripping onto his floor. “Can I get-“
“Tissue!” Harry’s already throwing me his roll but I knock it away.
“I need help. Getting. To the bathroom.”
“Right right.” Harry kicks my shoe away and leans down so I can wrap my arm around his shoulder. I feel like an injured football player but so much more pathetic as I limp to his bathroom.
He sets me down on his toilet seat and blasts the tub with water.
“Sorry,” I limp to the edge of his bathtub and swing myself so that my feet dangle in. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your night.”
“I’m glad you did,” Harry’s voice still carries a hint of shock. “What is wrong with you? That’s diabolical you wearing shoes like that! What’s wrong with trainers? Or sandals? Don’t girls like strap sandals?”
“It just comes with being a woman okay?” I couldn’t answer all his questions. “I still need to take off the other one.”
I was more scared for my right foot than my left.
“Just…deal with that.”
Harry’s tub is filling with water and it stings everywhere it touches my foot. But especially my heel and all of my toes. I switch the knob to cold.
“Okay,” I take a deep breath. “The other fucking shoe.”
I can feel Harry peering over my shoulder. This one feels glued on and I squeal as I comes off. My foot looked like a bruised and crusted mess.
“Holy sh-“ Harry whispers. I dunk it fast in the running water and nearly topple backwards but Harry catches me with his knee and then stays there so I have somewhere to lean. It was nice.
“Bloody hell,” I swear as my feet sting and paint the water pink. “Genuinely so sorry about this.”
“Don’t be.” Harry shakes his head. “But please toss those shoes in the bin and never wear something like that again.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It’s not. It’s very possible.”
“I love heels! I just need to break these in.”
“They’re breaking you love.”
I feel him stiffen behind me which makes me suddenly self-conscious. I didn’t really read into his words, love was just a term of affection used around my friends. But apparently it wasn’t something Harry used lightly.
“They are. These ones are going in the bin, DNA and all.” I try to continue casually. This was so weird. Weirder than it needed to be given Harry and I were mates at most; I’d met his girlfriend, I didn’t think of him anything more than a neighbourhood friend. We certainly hadn’t hung out outside our flats before.
“Maybe burn them to be sure,” Harry finally responds. His voice is a bit rougher than before. “Don’t want to get accidentally framed with the free DNA.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d be too obvious a murderer to commit anything stealthily. They’d identify the pink-haired giant walking away.”
“You’re not a giant. You’re not even 6 feet.”
“I’m nearly 5’9 which is tall enough for a woman.”
“I don’t think so.” Harry brushes my hair behind my shoulder and a shiver runs up my spine. Maybe I should turn the icy water off. “Plus I like the pink. Makes you more interesting to look at.”
“So I’m not interesting to look at regularly?” I tease. I look up at him and the back of my head hits his thigh.
I see his adam’s apple bob and I suddenly feel vulnerable sitting here like this. I lean forward so my feet are steadied against the tub which is agonizing for my bloody feet but at least I wasn’t leaning against him.
“I said more interesting.”
The room grows quiet and I try not to read into it. Harry thought I was interesting to look at. Okay.
I turn the tap off and the silence in the room becomes unbearable.
“Have you got any plasters?” I turn inch by inch so I don’t slip on the lip of the tub or need more help from Harry. The energy in here was weird and him touching me was going to make it weirder.
“Yeah,” he’s eager to leave only to come back laughing. “They’re actually here. I…”
He opens a drawer and pulls a box out along with a tiny vial.
I take it from him, some sort of ointment oil. Why not.
“Motherf-“ I bite my lip as the ointment stings my cuts. “Why wouldn’t you warn me!”
Harry laughs again and it eases the tension a little. “I thought you knew it would burn!”
“I don’t treat cuts often jeez!”
“Sorry! That friend—you met him at my party, black curly hair, the one who does custom stuff?”
“Oh yeah I remember.”
“I helped him out one summer. I had to hand cut all these signs using one of those exacto blades? Cut my hands up so many times I had to buy something for them after one of them got infected.”
I wrinkle my nose at the idea of an infected cut and douse my other foot in the oil, swearing as I take the pain.
“I have a roll and cotton if you want to bandage your foot?” Harry suggests. “I don’t know if regular plasters cut it.”
“That’s so dramatic,” I usually stuck a couple plasters on and got on with it. But this was also the worst I’d ever had with breaking shoes in.
“Let me-“
“No!” I push Harry’s shoulder away as he leans down with the roll of bandage he’d procured. “Harry do not touch my foot!”
“I’ve dressed grosser,” he holds my heel gently and I try to yank it away again without falling into the tub but it’s impossible. I settle for pushing him away.
“Harry please! I’ve intruded enough stop touching my disgusting foot!”
“I’ve seen you wash it. It’s not disgusting, just bloody. Now stop squirming about!”
“Why are you…” I trail away because he wasn’t listening. He dabs my foot with a cotton pad and then begins the process of bandaging my heel and then my toe. I try not to squirm at how embarrassing this was.
Harry’s gentle and attentive as he moves on to the other foot which should make me feel okay but only adds to the humiliation. We were so not close enough to do this—I don’t even know if I’d do the same for him.
Another part of me knows I would. Despite knowing him in passing, plus a few solid occasions, I could tell Harry was one of the good guys. He was always chivalrous around the building, friendly in any interaction I’d seen with him, loved enough to be thrown a surprise birthday party, and caring enough to always ask about how I was doing. And to do this.
When he glances up I don’t expect it. Our gazes clash and the weird energy from before creeps in again.
“Sorted,” he lets my foot down gently.
“Harry I owe you like…a massive dinner, and drinks are on me forever forward.”
“That’s not necessary,” he chuckles as he puts his little first aid kit back. “Just don’t wear heels like that again please. It’s not worth it.”
“They’re so pretty though,” I sigh. They’re now discarded on the tiled floor, the insides bloody.
“Let’s get you that beer,” he holds a hand out.
“I can’t. I’ve kept you late and you probably-“
“One beer.”
“I don’t want to intrude-“
“Just one,” his tone is gentle but he’s not taking no for an answer.
“Fine!” I admit defeat. He helps me up and together I limp to his couch.
We sit in silence for a bit while we drink. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but the events of the evening play in my head.
“He actually insulted me.” I blurt. Before he can ask questions I explain. “Firstly he was late, then he was droning on and on about shit I don’t even remember anymore. Then he was cheap about food, but because he paid for drinks he got me to pay for chips. Then he said I wear too much pink and nobody would take me seriously as an adult. That it was childish.”
“Really?” Harry leans forward from his end of the couch. “He said all that?”
“Yeah! I said men are allowed to wear their Star Wars shirts and Lord of the Rings bullshite. And when a woman wears more than one article of pink she’s childish?”
“What a prick.”
“I know!”
“You’re too good for someone like that.”
“Thank you,” I sit back, seen and validated.
“The pink makes you cool, stand out in a crowd. He’s just blind to look at you and think that. Or he’s just intimidated.”
“Oh yeah he lied about his height! So I stood there in those stupid pink heels taller than him.”
“That must have got him,” Harry grins. “I actually love that story.”
His words warm me.
“You’re so nice Harry,” I tell him. “Honestly you’re like a gem of a guy.”
“I’m not that nice-“
“Don’t tell me you’re a bad boy or something because you’re a solid good guy. Rare. Never change.”
“Hmph,” he clears his throat.
“Your girlfriend’s lucky. A lot of us have to put up with trolls before we find a good guy like you.”
Harry stays silent. Maybe I’d said too much. Maybe I should stop drinking.
“We broke up. Wasn’t good enough for her.”
Shite. Blistered, bloody, bandaged foot directly in mouth..
“I-I’m sorry. To hear that! Oh my god yeah I guess I haven’t seen her in a while-“
“Yeah been a few months now. I’m mostly over it.”
“How long were you two dating again?”
“Almost 3,” Harry twists his mouth to the side. I’d never seen him look bitter before. “I accepted it, the end of us. Until I hear from a friend she jumped right into another relationship. So…that must have been behind the scenes near the end of our relationship.”
Bitter indeed. “That’s a shitty way to find out too.”
“I wish she was just honest. Y’know like, I met someone else whatever. At least that way I took the hit at once and then got over it. Instead after a month of moving on I just got punched all over again.”
“That’s a dick move.” I agree. “I’ve seen you so many times the last few months why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs, “I didn’t want to bring down the mood. Felt too loaded for a conversation on the lift.”
“You could have saved it for a walking-to-the-tube conversation?”
“Then just part ways after dropping that on you?”
“Isn’t that perfect?” I tease and he covers his face. I change the subject. “My 3.5 year relationship ended when he said he didn’t see me as marriage material.”
“I thought it was a mutual breakup?” Harry asks. I’m surprised he remembers what I told him when I first moved in.
“I lied. I didn’t want you to see me as your pathetically lonely neighbour.”
He laughs at that. At least I’d gotten a smile back on his face. “I thought it was a bit suspicious but I didn’t push it. Every time I saw you when you first moved in it always looked like you cried.”
“Oh my god!” I cover my face. “Don’t tell me that! That’s so embarrassing!”
It was true. I cried for three weeks straight after the breakup but I also thought I was sly enough to get around unnoticed.
“It’s not a big deal! I used to worry about you.”
“That’s another thing that’ll keep me up at night now—but see that’s sweet! You barely knew me and you worried. Like! You were raised right.”
“Sure,” he smiles my way with a laugh in his eyes. He was enjoying making me squirm but it’s this smile, one I’d never seen before directed at me, that made me squirm the most.
“Okay now stop being sweet and kick me out.” I gingerly stand and suck up the fresh pain that comes back.
“You can stay as long a-“
“Harry.” I look at him seriously. “I know we both work demanding jobs, and that’s what we have to do tomorrow morning. It’s past midnight and I should go.”
He sighs and gets up to help me hobble to his door.
“Good thing I live next door—oh my shoes. They’re in your-“
“I’ll get them to you later.” He promises.
“You just want to try them on in private.” I tease as he opens his door. He waits while I fish through my purse again for my keys. I remember then the missed calls from Dave—that feels so long ago.
“I like my feet whole.” He chuckles. “Plus I’m tall enough.”
“Some girls think 6 feet is short.”
“How do you know I’m 6 feet?”
I turn my key and let my door swing open.
“I’m good at telling heights.”
“What’s your secret?”
“Well,” I turn back to him and put my hand on my head. “I get my height and then just measure against the person. I gauge the inches which if I’m close enough-“ Harry moved closer to me so there’s only a few inches between us. “Uhm. If I’m close enough it’s easy to count up or down.”
“So you count up-“
“Three or so inches.” I look up, determined to meet his eye. It was just Harry. I didn’t need to feel weird around my neighbour Harry.
But I can’t look away. I never noticed the depth of his eyes; they’re mesmerizing and I can’t look away.
“It’s a neat party trick.” He says so low, but we’re so close it’s loud as hell to my ears. Or maybe that’s the blood rushing through my head.
“Don’t really go to enough parties to turn it into a trick.” My voice comes out squeaky and I clear my throat. “Mostly useful to compare a dating profile to the real thing.”
“Hm,” he hums. His fingers toy with the pinks of my hair before draping it behind my shoulder.
“I should go.” I say for the millionth time.
He looks at me again and I forget why I should go. His gaze drops to my lips and I feel hot—hotter than the pain on my bloody feet.
“You’re the real thing.”
It’s unconscious, the way I arch up to him. It’s natural, the way he meets me halfway. It’s unforgettable, the way his soft lips feel on mine.
Until I lean my weight on my toes and I’m reminded of my broken feet, this evening, and who I was kissing.
I couldn’t be kissing my neighbour! I saw him nearly every damn day!
“Har-“ I push gently at his chest and he’s quick to move back.
“Sorry I-that-“
“No I’m sorry that was me-“
“We should…”
“Yeah.” I grasp behind my back until my hand touches my doorframe. “Um…thanks for everything. Tonight.”
“Yeah.” Harry’s flushed and somehow more attractive than I’ve ever noticed. He also has a smidge of pink lipstick at the corner of his mouth but I file that away for later. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight!” I turn and quickly close my door, knowing Harry was not going to be the first to leave. Despite my head telling me not to, I turn and peep through the peephole. He’s still leaning against his doorframe, head bowed, running his hand through his hair. I watch him mutter something and then go in. I stay there until the automatic light switches off and then sink to the floor.
Harry. Friendly, funny, neighbour Harry. He’d dressed my bloody feet, served me beer, and then kissed me.
I touch my lips. I wasn’t even mad about it. This was going to be complicated no doubt, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
***
I manage to avoid Harry for a week. Which is a pretty impressive feat given our doors nearly open onto each others.
But he catches me on the lift after work one day. There’s already two others beside me and Harry nearly misses the lift, slipping in just as it’s closing. He does a double take when he sees me.
“Hey.”
“Hey!” Everything was normal. Everything was fine.
“Smart choice of shoes.”
We look down at my Stan Smiths.
“I’ve learned my lesson…for now.” I look back up at the row of numbers. The lift stops on floor 5 and the couple get out.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states simply when the door closes.
“I have not!” I finally look at him and nearly lose my breath. When did he become so attractive?!
“We see each other almost every day living the way we do. And you’re telling me we managed to miss each other for a week?”
I shrug, “it’s been a weird week.”
“When did the weird week start?”
Saved by the bell. The doors open to our floors with a ding, but Harry blocks me from my front door.
“Are you serious?” I try to sidestep him but he stays in my path.
“We should talk.”
“We’re talking now.”
“C’mon.” He sighs and moves out of my way. I sigh myself before opening my door and leaving it open behind me. He takes the hint.
“I want to apologize for that night.” Harry says. “I was just feeling vulnerable and it shouldn’t have happened-“
“You’re joking right? I was going on about how good you were and I got a little too into it I think. I totally kissed you so I’m sorry. For making it weird-“
“I kissed you,” Harry tries to correct me.
“No I kissed you so I should apolog-“
“No.” Harry cuts me off.
“Why are we arguing about this?” I throw my hands up. We’re standing in the entryway going back and forth about this. It was stupid. “We’re both sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. Let’s just move on okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees. “So we’re friends? You’re not going to avoid me in the building?”
“No.” I put my hands on my hips. “Cuz I wasn’t avoiding you in the first place.”
He laughs, throwing his head back and my breath catches. I lied. I wasn’t sorry I kissed him but I was sorry it ruined our friendship. Damnit.
“You’re impossible.”
“I thought I was the real thing?” I ask without thinking.
Slightly healed, but still bruised foot, directly in mouth!!!
“Impossible things can be real,” Harry’s mood changes. He stands taller and he takes a step towards me. “Do…do you want us to just move on?”
I don’t know how to answer that.
“I…we live right next to each other Harry. It’s-“
“Unconventional but not impossible.”
“Impossible.”
“But it can still be real.”
I can’t help it. I grin at how serious he was being with his play on words. He was serious about this though. It scared me a little.
“A date.”
“What about it?” I ask.
“We go on a date, see how things are. It they’re weird we go back to friends like we always were. If it’s good…”
“Okay. How about Friday?” I wanted this as much as it seemed like he wanted it. Dating was hard, apps were impossible. This good and kind man standing in front of me was impossible and real.
“Friday’s perfect. Wednesday would be even better.”
“Today is Wednesday.” I say before realizing what he meant.
“It is.”
“Okay. Pick me up at 7?”
“I’ll be on time.” Harry’s grin is contagious.
“Great.” I watch him walk back to the door.
“One favour?” He asks. I ask him what it is. “Wear something pink?”
“Most definitely.” My heart surges and I feel seen. So seen.
I think he was the real thing too. Impossibly real. And possibly something more than neighbourly friends.
Excited and hopeful were an understatement. I couldn’t wait.
#harry styles fic#writingsfromhome#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#one shot#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#fic#impossibly real#i’ve been writing a little again#most of my stuff is angsty and annoying so#heres the fluffier piece lol
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my favorite fics, vol 6
it’s been a while since the last time i posted a fic rec masterpost ! here are my favorite fics i’ve read recently (i’m doing one for tom soon) enjoy !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
fluff:
perception by @goldengalore
harry styles talking about his girlfriend for 16 minutes by @astranva
afterparty by @chaoticloving
favorite holiday by @tsumtsumrry (has smut)
knight in shinning armor by @fetusharryluvr
just called to say i love you by @harrywritingsbyme
bad habit by @ifancyharry
maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two by @itsallyscorner
when you fall in love by @avatar-anna
serendipity by @adorebeaa (has smut and angst)
pinky swear by @inyourhaven
italy by @bonesandchalamet
5 ways harry mentions you on stage by @glitteredrry
my love, we were in paris by @alonetimelover
sweet nothings by @pancakes4two
get enough by @theshyspy
this insta blurb by @llvstrous099
dynamic by @mydearesthrry
the pact by @harryslittlefreakk
oh, i think she said by @justmeinatree
routines by @elioslover
coffee talk by @itsallyscorner
finally a dad by @flwrsforu
bo peep by @haarrrys
this by @harryyskiwii
angst:
little freak by @goldenbuckyyy
i wish i could change by @cowboy-like-mee
argument by @secret-rendezvous1d
don’t let me down by @itsprashimusic
false god by @sleepyhollands
airport chaos by @musicforastylesrestaurant
this by @alonetimelover
if you love something by @writingsfromhome
home is a feeling by @adore-laur
smut:
italian sun by @harry-on-broadway
no guarantee by @allofurlove
we fight, we make up by @strawnarrries
bad idea, right? by @atharryshouse
private show by @stylesharrys
bad idea right by @lukesaprince
under his bed by @gurugirl
tease by @eveningepiphany
just a little taste by @stylescine
series:
begin again by @sweetcherryharry
ifall for harry by @freedomfireflies
the divorce by @butdaddyilovehim-hs
stages of grief by @missmielyhoran
somebody else by @harrystylescherry
ms honey by @solarisstyles
#harry styles masterlist#harry styles fic recs#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst
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Harry Styles Fic Recs
ANGST
Ex-Girlfriend (@mydearesthrry)
Full Throttle (@bunnyteetharry)
when you know, you know (^)
Say you love me (@stylesharrys)
watched (@chrisevansonly)
closed off (@hes-writer)
champagne problems (@avatar-anna)
new year's wish (@harrysfolklore)
FLUFF
Drunk Harry (@jarofstyles)
Dynamic (@mydearesthrry)
baby (^)
Rings and nervous things (@trulyonlygrapejuice)
lingering (@stylescine)
angelica (@jollytaleswriter)
Impossibly real (@writingsfromhome)
dimples (@watchmegetobsessed)
the usual (^)
now and forever pt 2 (^)
mistletoe (^)
soon to be us (@chrisevansonly)
firsts (@finelinevogue)
spreading the love (^)
Christmassy kisses (^)
love her stupid (^)
knight in skinny jeans (@stylesharrys)
love me like you do (^)
baby styles (^)
snooze (@avatar-anna)
baby I'm yours (@bunnyteetharry)
SMUT
thigh riding (@justlemmeadoreyou)
SERIES
gold rush pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 (@adore-laur)
style (@lilystyles)
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Harry angst fic recs 2
Neighbors by @1d1195 (completed) [I love this sm😭]
Long way down @hardcandycigarette
Break my heart again @ineffablywriting
Wish you were sober @sooverwhitesandpinks
ex text @writingsfromhome (completed) this one is also so good harry really got on my nerves
a fuck boy will always break your heart @fruitmans
Better off (ongoing) @avatar-anna [🤌🤌]
Needing you @smilesstyless
Laceleaf @be-with-me-so-happily (ongoing) [she slays everytime]
One is enough @harrieatthemet (bestie please fix your angst masterlist cause I'm dying) as you know I'm sucker for dadrry angst check out her whole account it's amazing
Before it all and Dancing away in tears @lonelycowgirls
Gala after gala @gucciwins
this is not angsty but I loveeeee this desire by @enthusiasticharry
Not the same as it was @babyiamperfectforyou
I really apologize for forgetting these masterpiece which broke my heart😭
Power (completed) @goldenbuckyyy
Sick of you @paeries (I need part 3 love😭)
there are so many other amazing ones I have read, but I can't find them😭
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x y/n#angst harry#harry angst#angst#angst fic#fic rec harry styles#fic rec#angst fic recs#harry angst fic
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This is just a list of fanfics I've personally enjoyed reading. They are in no particular order, and the more I read... or remember I've read, because adhd brain here... the more I'll update the list.
These are all related to Harry Styles but some are AU stories.
Important: I always encourage you to read any and all warnings before starting a new fic, please.
I'm currently updating and reorganizing this list to add more detailed descriptions.
[ COMPLETED SERIES ]
•• in my feelings series @harrystylescherry
completed series featuring famous Harry and Vogue journalist YN, an amazing story of enemies who end up having sex and catching super complicated feelings. It's crazy how chaotic these two are together but it's amazing.
~~~~~
•• wish upon a star series @mysweetestcreature
completed series about stepbrother Harry and stepsister YN, who have basically grown up together, with a taboo and secret love that nobody can know about, especially their parents.
~~~~~
•• spare parts series @around1302
completed series (definitely one of my top faves) about Harry and Charlie, who are put into a band together with 3 other guys (Niall, Liam, & Louis). She hates him, and maybe he hates her, but things get complicated when they make a secret sex pact.
~~~~~
•• ifall for harry series @freedomfireflies
completed series (from an amazing writer) about famous Harry and YN, who wake up from a drunken night to find out they got married. With Harry's reputation at stake, they try to figure out what the best course of action is, which becomes unclear when feelings get involved
~~~~~
•• mr. & mrs. hey soul sister series @freedomfireflies
completed series about how famous Harry and YN wake up with each other after a very drunk night out, with wedding rings drawn on their fingers. She can't stand him, but they make a deal, keeping Harry's reputation as intact as possible. Which might end up more complicated than she thought.
~~~~~
•• chapters series @writingsfromhome
completed series about non-famous Harry, and a run in with his ex YN, and her son Julian, which brings Harry back into both of their lives, and vice versa. And he is totally okay with that. But the matter of the boy's father still lingers in the air.
~~~~~
•• somebody else series @harrystylescherry
- Harry Styles x Y/N
- Friends with benefits to lovers
~~~~~
•• fine line series @imaginesandbandfiction
- Harry Styles x Tour Assistant Y/N
~~~~~
•• since forever series @satanhalsey
- Harry Styles x Y/N
- Relationship since age 15
[ ONE SHOTS & BLURBS ]
•• 42 hours / pt. 2 @sunflowervolvimp3
- Enemies to lovers
~~~~~
•• sun will rise series @watchmegetobsessed
- College LHH x Reader
~~~~~
•• gonna make you mine @gurugirl
- Mob Boss Harry x Reader
~~~~~
•• a public nuisance @gurugirl
- Coworker Harry x Reader
~~~~~
•• hurt @1d1195
- Harry x Reader
~~~~~
•• so long @harry-smiles
- College Harry x Reader
~~~~~
•• not the same as it was @babyiamperfectforyou
- Husband Harry x Wife Reader
~~~~~
•• just for you @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite
- LHH x Reader
~~~~~
•• harry on a commercial flight @freedomfireflies
- Harry Styles x Reader
~~~~~
•• complicated best friend kiss @freedomfireflies
- Harry x BFF Reader
[ ONGOING SERIES ]
•• since 2010 series @watermelonsugacry
ongoing series (another top fave from my love) about famous Harry and 1D bandmate YN who aren't allowed to have feelings for one another, but they do, unknown to each other until they have a very complicated, on and off again situationship. Amazing song inspos and so much detail!
~~~~~
•• the queen's secret series @gurugirl
ongoing series about royal Harry and Queen YN, who are forced into an arrangement to conceive a baby for YN's husband, the King. But of course, things get complicated quickly, and their secret love puts everything in jeopardy. This is probably the definition of angst and smut combined!
~~~~~
•• you're someone I just want around series @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy
ongoing series about vampire Harry who only goes to clubs to satisfy two needs- sex and human blood. He comes across YN and everything about her begins to change everything about him, except his immortality. This isn't as angsty as some of the others but it's so smutty and so good.
~~~~~
•• apologies series @multifandomsw
ongoing series (that I'm obsessed with) about famous Harry and how a fake number from YN's old best friend leads her to him. Well, rather it starts a friendship through text, and she is unaware of who is on the other end of those messages.
~~~~~
•• saccharine series @musicforastylesrestaurant
ongoing series about famous Harry. His wife YN gets into a terrible car accident, causing him to cancel his tour and be left to take care of their young son Alfie. It's super emotional so far so have some tissues nearby, plus a pint of ice cream and maybe a stiff drink.
~~~~~
•• the roommate series @lukesaprince
- College Roommate Harry x Reader
~~~~~
•• the morning after @oh-honey-styles
- Harry x Reader
- Sort of enemies to lovers (?)
~~~~~
•• illicit affairs @goldenbuckyyy
- Harry Styles x YN
- Exes/bffs to lovers (I hope)
~~~~~
•• just how fast the night changes @watchmegetobsessed
- Harry Styles x YN
- Reunion between high school bffs
~~~~~
•• something old @didhewinkback
- Harry Styles x BFF!yn
- BFF to lovers
~~~~~
•• flame @jarofstyles
- Harry x Y/N
- Best friends to lovers
~~~~~
•• blacking out & breaking hearts @dont-call-me-baby-posts
- Harry x Singer Reader
[ INSTAGRAMS & PHOTO BLURBS ]
These are some accounts I love that post awesome Harry Styles Instagram post blurbs. They're very creative with their stories!
@harrysfolklore
@lovecanyon
@pleasingsatelitte
@pancakes4two
@harrysblackcoat
#harry styles fanfic#harry styles writing#fanfic writer#fanfic writing#harry styles series#harry styles fake ig#harry styles fake social media#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles x reader#fanfic rec#harry styles fic rec#bee fic recs
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harry styles [a-h]
10th anniversary by pitubea1910
20 things by harryforvogue
absolutely infatuated by harryimaginedstories
all too well (taylor's version) by only-kiwi
an unconventional announcement by sometimesiwritebadly
another world by sunflowerstache
are you happy? by gucciwins
bad boy cliche blurb by jawllines
bad boy!harry by meet-me-in-the-kitchen
bandmate!yn by harrysfolklore
beating heart by heyyyharry
behind the cover by harrywritingsbyme
best song ever by medievalbabe
big boss by watchmegetobsessed
birthday surprise by cocochaneloo
black & white by watchmegetobsessed
blacking out and breaking hearts by dont-call-me-baby-posts
blurb masterlist by bfharry
canyon moon by gucciwins
carpool karaoke by pasiveagressive
ceo!harry by erodasfishtacos
chocolate cake by unabashedgirl
citrine by moonchildstyles
cold morning, warm harry by harryforvogue
collaboration by writingsfromhome
commitment by harriatthemet
cool aunt by finestoflines
dad!harry by lovecanyon
desert by bfharry
equatorial sun by unabashedgirl
expectations by justauthoring
falling: the fic by lovingyouangel
feathery by moonchildstyles *
fiance by bfharry
forget me by sunflowersunshinevol6
fried rice and ... kiwi? by svnflower666
from the dining table by aquaticstyles
game night by svnflower666
getaway car by s-brant
girl's night by hes-writer
growing old by watchmegetobsessed
gucci jumpsuit by stylesberries
guitarist!yn by lovecanyon
hand in hand by marvel-ousness
harry styles talking about his girlfriend for 16 minutes by astravana *
have you ever been in love? by aquaticstyles
heartbeat by tinydestinybear
home to me by stylesharrys
hslot!harry by erodasfishtacos
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For the anon asking for longer fics: Chapters by @writingsfromhome is one the best things I’ve ever read!
^^^!!!
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Taglist and fic recs!!!!!
Just want to point out, if anyone wants to be added/removed onto this list let me know!!!! Also more will be added into the future.
Time to appreciate some talented writers, who deserve more recognition and appreciation 🫶🏼
—————————-
This is no particular order ❣️
<3333
@finelinevogue @watermelonlovershigh @lollypopsx @harryhoney-bee @hes-writer @stylessupremacy @erodasfishtacos @damnasstyles @lovecanyon @reveriehs @writingsfromhome @twostepstyless @astranva @luvstylers @harrysfolklore @shroombloomm @harianaswhore @eveningepiphany @violetsandfluff @goldengalore @purplekiwis @watchmegetobsessed @jarofstyles @gucciharrywritings @gucciwins @missmielyhoran @moonchildstyles @cakestan @avatar-anna @grapejuice-rry @dwdenthusiast @pleasingsatellite @oh-honey-styles @youflowerr-youfeast @goldencherryhazz @harryistheonlyoneforme @stylesloveclub @satanhalsey @fkinavocado @missluckycharms @hsgucci94 @harryiloveyouuu @hotforharrysheart @smilesstyless @theshyspy @haroldloverboy @iconicharry @swiftmendeshoran @finestoflines @mouthfulloftoothpasterry
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okok but what are your all time favourite fics?
i dont know if i could choose my all time favorite fics cause theres literally too much to choose from
cause y’laugh is pretty @meetevieinthehallway
stardust @mymedicine
green eyes @harrystylescherry
truth or drink @mixed-with-intellect
no wedding for the bad boys @lightskinrry
mess is mine @talesofstyles
lets hurt tonight @alltheloveflowerh
i forgot to tell you i love you @sorrynotharry
symphonies of you @theasstour
another world @sunflowerstache
unwavering love @kind-heart
bad timing @writingsfromhome
unplanned @idkthisisjustforfanfic
i promise @meetmeinfleetwood
flatmate @heyyyharry
darker days @wroteasongabouther
ceo!harry and model!y/n @and-im-okay-with-it
mess o’ mine @strawberriestyles
best friends brother @loudsuitlover
their whole masterlist @harryimaginedstories
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stylesfics-xx 2020 Fic Recs
These are the fics&oneshots I have really enjoyed this year, in no particular order! Thank you to all the writers who share their work with us.
Complete Fics
you feel like home by @luminescencefics
nuclear family by @writingsfromhome
Doctor Harry by @loudsuitlover
Only Human by @hsogolden
One Thing Led To Another by @halfwaygones
Office Neighbours by @atlafan
Fine Line, ‘Cause Nothing Feels Like Home, Look At You With Your Mouth Watering by @harryforvogue
Strange Tides by @theasstour
Stay With Me by @hstylespal
Someday, Someday (sequel Twenty Good Reasons), Sail The Wildest Stretch by @beautifulletdownfics
Collide, January in Japan by @oh-honey-styles
Matchmaking For Experts, Alone Together, Hate & Other Words by @booksncoffee
Rumour Has It by @stylishmuser
Unplanned, Two Years Too Late by @idkthisisjustforfanfic
Habits of My Heart by @paynethecreator
Pure Feeling (sequel Higher Feeling, ongoing third book Endless Feeling) by @embloomfields
Styles&Co. by @imagine-that-one-thing
Three Rules by @goldenbluesuit
Loving You’s The Antidote (ongoing sequel All I’ve Ever Known) by @sweetcreatureinthedark
Girl Crush by @padfootagain
Temptation, The Only Exception by @bopbopstyles
Who’s Your Daddy? by @inyourhaven
Lighthouse, As You Held Onto Me by @for-fucks-sake-h
Flatmate Series and My Girl Series by @heyyyharry
Hell of a Life by @alexandragramz
Valerie by @watchmegetobsessed
Always by @kind-heart
Tarnish by @hes-writer
Could Be Lethal by @idk-who-she-is
Ongoing Fics
Can’t Stand To See You Lonely by @wroteasongabouther
In My Feelings by @harrystylescherry
The Young and Famous by @verorax
Reconcile by @talesofstyles
Quarantine Harry by @all-things-fic
Less Than Lovers, Baby Love by @paynethecreator
High Noon by @younghearts-stories
Personal Best by @curlsgetgirls
Call Me Cat by @idkthisisjustforfanfic
model!Y/N and ceo!Harry by @and-im-okay-with-it
All I Ask Of You by @cherrygoldenharry
hold my hand by @harrytheehottie
Pinky Promises by @bouquetofkissesxo
Muse by @inyourhaven
Blurred Lines by @permanentcrossfics
Another World by @sunflowerstache
Sweet As Honey by @c-h-e-r-r-y-y
Alien Crossing by @rosegoldsweetpea
Trick of the Light by @andwhenshesays
Cloudbusting by @starsstruck
Something About A Feeling by @oh-styles
you’re someone i just want around by @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy and @sunflowervolvimp3
Ma Petite Chérie by @svnflowervol666
Oneshots
Can you do mine? by @sadorangejuice
try try again by @snlhostharry
baby it’s cold outside by @havethetimeofyourstyles
only we know, when I look at you by @stylesharrys
quarantining with h, beautiful people by @canyon-moan
kissies, the importance of I love you’s by @sweetsbfreex
the same page by @writingsfromhome
1:32AM by @parkersroses
Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses, the gala (honeybee) by @berrynarrybanana
Love You, That’s All by @hsluna
Only Wish (This Year) by @cocochannel00
green eyes by @harrystylescherry
santa’s elf by @lovealwaysvictoria
grammy nominations by @muffindaddystyles
Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies by @mysweetestcreature
Till Death by @heyyyharry
Something New by @atlafan
Our Little Family by @angeliccry
Banana Pancakes by @ill-be-your-honey-bri
“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.” by @pinencurls
Friendly Competition by @hewearsgucci
you won’t want me anymore, make up shows and foot casts by @all-my-love-for-harry
untitled by @harryforvogue
on your side by @harryimaginedstories
reason to hate you by @wellbeafinelime
Liability (Reprise) by @kissypoets
Keep It by @honeyedrasp
flowered hands by @stylesmessiah
changes by @sunflowervolvimp3
sold by @harrywritingsbyme
Zane Lowe Interview by @svnflowervol666
Score by @andwhenshesays
a gingerbread family by @adoremp3
All I Want For Christmas Is You by @goldenbluesuit
Fake, Repeated Proposal by @stardusthes
Falling by @mellowstyles94
Behind The Bar by @bopbopstyles
backpedal by @botanicials
apologies by @autumn-sunflowers
Adore You, Frosty The Snowman by @gucciwins
A Better Place by @harry-writings
Open, Desert by @bfharry
The View From Both Sides of The Mirror by @milfzaynmalik
Keys of Truth by @watchmegetobsessed
Mistletoe and Holly by @heart-attack-harry
Bangles by @kissme-hs
Vampire!harry Christmas by @moonchildstyles
if I could go back by @luvelyhs
La Paloma by @for-fucks-sake-h
Girl by @sweetcreatureinthedark
Fics I Keep Going Back To/Think About
Sugar on the Asphalt/Tennessee Teacakes by @justanchorandhope
Awkward Beat/Pregnant Pause by @finding--cat
Forever Hold Your Peace by @cheesewithchips
Boys Don’t Cry by @oxygenstyles
Intrinsic Grey and 1999 by @sammarkumismyhomegirl
Nom de Plume and Dandelion and Burdock by @stylesprimes
Butterfly Boy and The Faux Affair by @looselucy
Salute by @bioluminescentwriting
Not A Bad Thing by @booksncoffee
Journeyman by @littlebird006
Slow Burn by @allywrites
Pure Feeling/Higher Feeling/Endless Feeling by @embloomfields
Come and Fade Me and Bring It Back by @paynethecreator
Bloom by @absolutestyles
In Your Atmosphere by @fromherlips
Love is a Laserquest by @lifeinblueprint
The Golden Hour/Young Blood by @standingfacingwest
The Nice Guy and Valley of the Dolls by @onismanxiety
Twinkle Toes by @konstantine11-11
With the New Crowd by @likeamisfit
Stardust&Silk and Passive Aggressive by @ineffably-styles
Fresh Eyes by @americanowrites
Above Average, First Base by @roselirry
Matched by @mrsmiresa
Snowbound by @permanentcrossfics
Stuck in the Storm by @giantbandgeeks
Fic Rec Pages
@harry-stylesarchives
@bfharryficrec
@harrysficrecs
@harryficlibrary
@ficsr
@harrystylesficrecs
@harrystylesficsienjoy
@harrystyles-conceptsn
@harryfanfics
@hsfics
@reveriehs
@harryswinterberries
#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shots#harry styles oneshots#harry styles fanfiction#imagine harry styles#harry styles oneshot#fic rec#1dff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles angst#one direction fanfiction#masterlist
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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
—————————————
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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@chericlo @harryistheonlyoneforme @writingsfromhome and @0nlythrowharrybeaux are all really good writers! And ofc @erodasfishtacos
Thank you babes!!!
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Harry Styles Fic Recs Pt.5
Angst
tiktok prank gone wrong (@avatar-anna)
What are you doing, NYE? pt 2 (@cakestan)
College!harry pt 2 (@shroombloomm)
Stunt (@missmielyhoran)
Hunger (@avatar-anna)
Better man (@a-strange-familiar)
Everything I want (@tbslharry222)
Scott Street (@tbslharry222)
one last time (@glitteredrry)
untitled (@harrysfolklore)
fuck buddies (@haileybeehappy)
About a breakup (@tbslharry222)
looking back (@shroombloomm)
ghost of you (@glitteredrry)
needing you (@smilesstyless)
Strike (@missmielyhoran)
baby, its cold outside (@havethetimeofyourstyles)
heartbreak (@alonetimelover)
green's her favorite, h (@meetevieinthehallway)
three's company (@writingsfromhome)
shitty friend groups (@tbslharry222)
Fluff
Date night (@watchmegetobsessed)
Biggest Fan (@starkeylvr)
The Only Exception (@avatar-anna)
College!harry (@missluckycharms)
Vanity fair (@voguescapes)
Harry Styles talking about his girlfriend for 16 minutes video (@astranva)
This Christmas (@leveller-75)
Bachelorette Party (@missmielyhoran)
Little Lad (@harrysmimi)
Dear Harry (@watchmegetobsessed)
Biscuit Foundations (@twostepstyless)
knight in shining armour (@fetusharryluvr)
his favorite princess (@twostepstyless)
made a friend today? (@chaoticloving)
that's my apron (@glitteredrry)
2022 comes to an end (@astranva)
christmas cookies (@jarofstyles)
sleepy (@mulledcherrywine)
agree to disagree *@pleasingforharry)
untitled (@avatar-anna)
a midnight kiss (@gucciwins)
Smut
untitled (@smilesstyless)
untitled (@smilesstyless)
paparazzi catches you thigh riding harry on a yacht (@watermelonlovershigh)
menage a trois (@timotheechlamett)
curious girl (@permanentcross)
Series
Love on Tour: The Documentary (@finelinevogue)
The Another One Universe (@watchmegetobsessed)
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Dos and Don’ts II
A/N: the story kinda got away from me so it’s getting a part 3. Would love to know what you think of the characters/choices!
Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
—————————————————
It’s a beautiful morning; the late summer heat is right around the hour but for now the morning clouds keeps the city cool. I’m sat at Harry’s dinner table with stacks of paper around me, sorting out paperwork whilst on hold with a private venue he was playing in the fall to sort out some details his manager asked me for.
I had become good at my job, multitasking like a pro and not having to leave the room to make a call. After all, it had been nearly half a year of this.
And yet, my relationship with Harry Styles had stayed the same. Sometimes it felt like it got worse.
My other relationships, in the rest of my life, had definitely gotten worse.
“Riley just called said he’s sent over some prints I bought for the bedroom,” Harry pops into the room. “Can you call someone to put them up?”
“Yeah, where do you want them?” I get up so he can show me.
“Somewhere that looks good in there,” he waves his hand. “It’s pictures of me.”
“Of course they are,” I know how big-headed he could be. “Above the bed?”
“Hm,” he heads off to the bedroom so I follow. He examines each wall of his bedroom which was pretty neutral and relaxing to be in. “Why not? Yeah. Above the bed’s good.”
“Great.” With that I head back to my makeshift office.
I wondered why Riley didn’t message me directly about the prints considering we avoided getting Harry involved in these minor decisions.
Maybe I’d ask him tonight. We were having drinks—we tried a bunch of times to get together seeing we were “coworkers” but our timing rarely worked out. Since Gray was out of town the next two nights I’d reached out to Riley.
Evening comes quicker while I’m still buried behind paper. I start tidying up after 7.
“Going home?” Harry asks. He’d been out most of the day at voice lessons.
“Yes, your dinner’s in the oven and Roy said he left cocktails in the fridge.”
“Lovely Roy,” Harry rubs his hands together. “He makes the best drinks.”
I smile and go back to work.
“There’s enough for two,” he calls with his head in the fridge. “You want to join?”
Of course the one night Harry asks me to join him personally—a time I could use to get on his good side, I’m going out.
“I’m actually heading out for drinks myself.” He’s already placed the jug on the marble countertop.
“Oh.” He freezes awkwardly. “With your fiancé?”
“No,” for some reason I feel flustered at his mention of Gray. “With Riley actually. We’ve been meaning to get together for drinks since…I started. Wow. That’s been a long time.”
“Riley,” Harry purses his lips. “Does your fiancé know?”
“It’s a friendly drink,” I feel my temper flare. “I don’t need to report to my fiance.”
“If my fiancé was going out to drinks with a man with loose hands, I’d worry.”
“Well it’s a good thing we’re not engaged,” I mouth off before I can stop myself. He raises a brow and the single movement has me backpedaling. I was such a coward. “So you don’t have to worry.”
“Y/n you get away with a lot but I’d remember who’s working for who.”
I clench my teeth. Just seconds ago he was inviting me for a drink and now I’ve dug myself a grave. I couldn’t be stopped.
I grab my bag and head to the elevator.
“Don’t turn your back on him once he’s got a few drinks in.” Harry calls out.
Asshole, I think.
***
God, Riley talked a lot. He’s got 3 drinks to my 1.5 and really got the gift of the gab.
That is until he starts asking me about Harry.
“Do you find him hot? He’s kind of a lady’s man yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” I laugh. “Got ‘em all lined up.”
“And you?” He asks casually. “Has he got you yet?”
“Riley! I’m engaged,” I flash my ring.
“Didn’t stop the last girl,” he mutters.
“What? What’s that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me,” I poke him, knowing he wanted to talk about it anyway.
“Just that the last PA he had for…less than a year? She had a boyfriend and everything but one time I pop in early to set up for this masseuse right—I’m there and I hear someone in the bedroom with him. No big deal whatever. Then Harry comes out and he’s fuming just seeing me. Tells me to get out and leave the rest, that I should have called him. All this shite. And then I see her jacket, she wore a very specific jacket, and her shoes off the way. He was angry cuz I caught them.”
“Woah,” I think about the way Harry treats me. “Well I don’t have to worry about that. He can be a right dick with me.”
“He can come off that way. Until you get to know him. Well. He used to be nicer. It’s changed a bit since I started.”
“How long?” I ask, curious.
“Uhh I was his PA for a year and now this for one and a half?”
“Wow. That’s a long time.”
“I know. Too long. Well, big things are coming for me I can feel it. How about you? Are you staying long? I hear the way he talks to you, I don’t know how you put up with it.”
I thought he talked to all his PAs that way. Maybe he was different when Riley was his. Of maybe it was that Riley was a guy. Maybe the fame got to his head. “Uhm. I want to stick around for at least a year. What do you mean the way he talks to me?”
“He’s rude.” Riley runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you find him rude? You’re surprisingly…graceful, but he’s always bossing you around and then ignoring you.”
I feel a pit in my stomach. So I wasn’t imagining it. “I thought that’s just the way he is.”
“No, you should have met him a couple years ago. A really cool guy. He taught me a lot.” Riley suddenly sobers as he looks off into the distance. “I grew a lot with him. I’m thankful for that y’know?”
“Right,” I nod. “Yeah. I dunno. I’m hoping to learn a lot here.”
“Well if you want to stay connected, keep my number. When you wanna jump ship just let me know.”
I’m surprised Riley is talking so openly about helping me leave. I would have thought he was a Harry die-hard.
“Yeah. Hey are you the one that’s created all those notes on the phone? They’ve been a life saver.”
“Notes? Oh the lists. I made them when I was his PA. I don’t know if the last girl updated any…”
I think of the snarky additions. She definitely did.
“Well I owe you my first-born because without them I’m pretty sure I would have been fired.”
“No you wouldn’t have,” he smirks.
“Uh yeah, I forgot to bring his bloody tablet to the studio the first day. He was so mad.”
“He wouldn’t fire you y/n,” he cocks his head to the side. “Not with the way I see it.”
“Huh?” I ask but Riley’s turned to the bar to ask for another drink.
I excuse myself and freshen up, checking my phone for messages. Gray’s sent me a picture of his hotel view and I send him a quick text back. I wish he was here. Maybe it was time I got home, I was starting to feel tired.
“I’m thinking of heading home,” I tell Riley when I get back.
“Now?” He looks at his watch. “Night’s still young y/l/n.”
“I’ve been up since 6 I’m dead.”
“Fine, I’ll walk you outside.” Riley knocks back half his drink and stands, swaying slightly. I put my hand out to steady him and he smiles down at me.
The pub is crowded as we walk past people, shoulders brushing against strangers. It takes me a second to feel the hand on my back sliding down to my ass.
I whip around to chew out whichever stranger thought he could get a grope but the only person behind me is Riley with a cocky smile.
“You alright? Let’s keep going.”
I can hear the blood pumping in my ears and I stumble back, Harry’s words echoing in my ear.
“I’m alright.” I try to put distance between us. “I’ll walk myself out you should look after your drink.”
“Nah c’mon,” he reaches for me again and I inch back.
“I said I’m okay,” I know my voice comes out harsh due to the fear coursing through my body. But I don’t care.
“Bloody hell alright then,” Riley shrugs. “Night y/n.”
I wait for him to turn and leave before I get out of there. The night air cools down the flush in my cheeks but I can’t get my heart to stop racing. Harry was right and for some reason it makes me angry at him. I’m furious.
All these men just made me feel small and confused all the time. Is that what I had to accept working in this industry? Was I just naïve for thinking things could be decent? That people could be decent?
I wish more than ever that Grayson was here. I imagine him on his own in another city. Then I imagine him alone, at home, while I’m working all the time. It felt like we were on a piece of ice drifting through the ocean and the middle was cracking leaving us to drift alone. My heart feels like it’s cracking with it.
I call Gray on the ride home just to see his face. I listen to him talk about his day and slowly my grip on the anger loosens. Slowly with his voice in my ear, I come back down to earth.
***
It’s a couple weeks after the Riley incident. I’d come into work the next day and managed to ignore Harry for most of it just like he did me.
Today I’m back at the dining table waiting for Harry’s publicist to call me to take me through what was left for this upcoming weekend for a small awards show Harry had been nominated in that was happening Sunday. Riley would be on the call too, the first time I’d seen him since that night. I just hoped my pokerface was good enough to move on past any awkwardness.
“Let me get your thoughts on this,” Harry sits down across from me with a yoghurt. He’d just come from the gym and seeing him shirtless now was just another Thursday afternoon.
He’d taken to using me as a soundboard lately which started out interesting and got old quickly. He loved to hear himself talk, I’ve concluded. And I was forced to listen. And he always lied. He never wanted my thoughts on anything, just an ego stroke.
And just like usual he launches into a song he’s working on and something about string progression and inversion. I nod along until my phone rings and I pick it up instantly.
Graham and I speak about the details of event and I reassure him everything would run smoothly. When I’m done Harry’s nearly done the smoothie he grabbed while I was on the phone.
“Austria tomorrow, everything’s prepped?”
“Yep, for you.”
“Not for you?”
“I have the rest of the week off?” I remind him just like I’d been doing for the last two weeks. So this wouldn’t happen.
“You do? I thought that was next week. What am I gonna do without you there it’s 4 days.”
“I reckon you’ll survive,” I say with a light tone but I’ve learned the art of backhanded jokes. It felt like the only way to get some of my aggression out. “Plus Riley’s joining you Saturday afternoon.”
“So I’ll be alone on Friday?”
I look up from my laptop, “Are you ever really alone?”
“I guess I’ll just have to invite one of my girls to keep me company,” he continues watching me. “Keep my bed warm.”
“If you’d like,” I hated when he tried to make me uncomfortable. “Let me know which one and I can cut her a ticket.”
He clenches his jaw and levels me with an irritated look. “I’m sure Vienna has many beautiful people to choose from.”
Ignore ignore ignore. I go back to my screen and leave him on heard.
***
“It’s been too long,” Gray clinks his glass with mine. It’s Friday night and we’re having an early anniversary celebration.
This whole weekend I promised Gray I would be his from Friday though Sunday even though our actual anniversary was on Monday.
Our relationship that was once so strong, supportive, and loving had started treading rocky grounds. I felt jostled and very close to being kicked right off the ride altogether.
I look at my fiancé’s face, his dark features and serious looks made him look intimidating but a flicker of his smile and you felt like you were on the ins with him about something. I had missed him.
The last time we did anything together was at the beginning of summer. I had a long weekend off and he’d driven us to lake district, soaking in the sun and hiking along the peaks. We’d had a serious conversation about our relationship but a lot of it had felt like me apologizing and him accusing.
“You look radiant,” Gray reaches for my hand. “How are you?”
I didn’t think he wanted the real answer. I hold back a sigh and replace it with a smile, “Alright. Better now to be with you.”
He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach flutters. “Me too. I’m excited for this weekend.”
“Let’s see we’re seeing friends tomorrow for brunch, then doing old school movies and dinner in the evening.”
“That was one of our first dates don’t make fun.”
“I’m not! It’s a classic I’m excited. It’s been so long since I saw a movie with you.”
With Harry, I’d seen a few. I was always told to tag along on premieres Riley passed on.
“And Sunday we’re just being lazy bed bugs.”
“Mmm that sounds amazing.” I could use a day in bed. A week in bed would be even better.
The night is perfect and romantic and it soothes the heartache I’d been carrying, the guilt that I was killing my relationship. Gray is attentive and we laugh like we always did.
I don’t mention work. It makes me anxious knowing I had to put the biggest part of my life on mute in order to keep the good vibes going with Gray.
Saturday brunch brings me back to life. I’d missed our friends and catching up on their lives, all the chatter and the laughter. Gray keeps reaching for me at the table and I feel like I belong.
“So how’s the tyrant?” My friends had started calling Harry that since he always kept me from most of our social outings.
“The usual,” I try to keep it short for Gray’s sake.
“Grayson was complaining that you spend more time with him than your actual fiancé!”
“Is that so?” I turn to Gray with a teasing expression but he’s serious.
“I wouldn’t have helped her with the job if I knew,” Gray jokes when I nudge him. The table laughs but I fake it, knowing the kernel of truth in it.
“He can’t be all that bad?” Another friend asks.
“Nope. Pretty consistently bad,” I tell them. “I’m just telling myself it’s vital experience. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.”
“When she sleeps at all,” Gray slips in another passive joke and I try to distance myself from it.
“Just wait, in a couple years I’ll be living my best life.” I raise my glass.
“To y/n’s best life,” the table cheers.
On the walk home from brunch Gray and I swing hands in between us. I want to bring up his passive comments but it feels stuck in my throat. His hand feels like lead in mine.
“Gray-“
“I’m sorry. I got a bit salty at brunch,” Gray admits. I nearly deflate completely with the sigh that comes out of me.
“That’s okay,” I kiss his cheek. His hand feels like an extension of mine again. “I know there’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, I know my job doesn’t make you happy. But I appreciate that you still support me and keep the peace even when I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”
“Hey,” Gray stops and tugs me to him. “I love you. Nothing changes that.”
“I love you too,” he kisses me with the same passion he did last night, our first intimate night after a couple months. With the urgency in his kiss I can tell it wouldn’t be another couple until the next.
***
We get back in around 8 and I happily kick off the dress and boots I wore to dinner to snuggle in my pjs. I watch Gray remove his contacts as I comb through my hair.
“I still can’t believe that ending,” Gray says to me in the mirror.
“Same, I feel like everyone’s kept it so hush I didn’t even know there was going to be a plot twist!”
“I kind of saw it coming-“
“You did not!” I flick Gray. “Why do guys love to brag about seeing a movie ending coming.”
“It’s our roman empire,” he grins.
“You’re using that in the wrong context,” I roll my eyes. “Josie would be so disappointed. Oh I didn’t even turn my phone back on after the movie, Josie had texted me something.”
“Just leave it,” Gray calls out as I go back into the room to get my purse. “Let’s keep our phones off, stay unplugged tonight.”
“Too late,” I grin as my phone powers on already.
I know Gray stayed nervous about any call I got during our down time because he always thought it was Harry. To be honest I was surprised he hadn’t bothered me more than asking for a password yesterday.
As my services connect my phone vibrates with a dozen oncoming messages.
“Y/n,” I hear Grayson say in warning but my eyes stay glued to the screen that flicker with notifications.
I look up once they settle, my eyes are as wide as saucers and Gray’s watch me through the mirror, heavy and resigned.
“Please, ignore it,” Gray pleads just once.
“I just…I need to know what it’s about.” I plead back.
“It’s going to spiral,” he warns. “You can’t just look y/n you’re gonna get involved.”
“What if it’s an emergency? He wouldn’t message like this unless it’s an emergency!”
“Like the documents on Josie’s birthday? Or the hospital appointment that one bank holiday? Or his empty fridge on-“
“I get it. But Gray I have 14 notifications. And it’s from his manager too it’s gotta be an-“
“You have a life y/n!” Gray turns around quick like a pistol whip, I stumble back into the doorframe. “He has other people in his life other than you they can figure it out! Why do you keep putting your job, this man, before me? Before us?!”
“I’m not trying to! I’m not!” I stutter.
“What’s the worst case scenario huh? He tries you, and you don’t answer because you’re off. And he’ll find someone else to help—those type always have someone else.”
“You don’t get it-“
“I get it.” Gray lowers his volume. He looks around for his glasses and slides them on. “I get it clearly. You’re just scared you’re replaceable to Harry Styles.”
His words stun me a little. All I can do is watch as he puts on jeans and grabs his phone.
“Do you ever wonder who else in your life’s replaceable?” Gray says before he slams our door shut.
I sink back and my mind races with everything Grayson just said. I was awful, he must feel even more awful and I-
My phone vibrates. Jeff.
“H-hi?” I answer.
“What the fuck y/n! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last 2 hours-“
“My phone was off-“
“Have you even gotten any of the messages we’ve left you-“
“I’m not working today-“
“Obviously,” He cuts me off for the hundredth time. “Harry’s in Vienna alone with god knows who!”
I don’t point out the contradiction in his sentence.
“Isn’t Riley supposed to be with him?”
“Riley quit.”
“What?! When?”
“Today. Apparently the sneak’s been cozying up with one of Harry’s supposed friends. He’s left us high and dry!”
“Is that why you’re calling me?” My confusion grows.
“Jesus no. Just look at your bloody messages.”
I put him on speaker and check the link to the photos he sent me. I gasp.
Harry looks a mess, one in a bar and another right outside it. With a questionable choice of friends.
“He’s not answering his phone,” Jeff continues. “Nobody can reach him and Riley decided to courier the stupid phone back to the penthouse so we don’t have access to his gps. But you do. That’s why I’m trying to reach you y/n. You’ve gotta go there and get him home.”
“Get him home? He’s in another country!”
“Yes, for that niche fucking awards show. You gotta get him back to his hotel and sober him up. We paid some fucker way too much money not to leak these photos and I don’t want to find out some other fucker took more.”
“Isn’t this something his publicist should be doing? Or you?” I’m starting to get angry. Why was Harry like a big fucking toddler that I had to go get when he was misbehaving. “I took the weekend off-“
“Listen. Y/n. We will pay you 5 times your rate if you just get on a plane and sort him out. I’m in Iceland right now. On holiday! Nobody is paying me 5 times the amount to deal with this and I don’t get back to the UK until tomorrow.”
“His publicis-“
“And Graham is the one that caught all this but he doesn’t fly out until tomorrow. So that leaves you. Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”
I think about Gray, should I call him? Let him know? Fuck. Fuck Harry and his ability to ruin my whole life.
“I don’t have a choice here do I?” I ask wearily.
“Sure you do, one gets you a nice pay check. The other doesn’t.”
“Fuck,” I swear just loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know when the next flight is.”
“There’s a private jet that can leave within the hour I’ll text you the address can you make it?”
I map it. 30 or so minutes away. I look around my room—I had my emergency duffle with my passport the Harry Survival Guide told me to keep so I didn’t need to pack much.
“Yeah. I’ll be there.”
***
“Out of all the fucking nights,” I swear as I take the elevator down. The flight had been under 2 hours and I’d kept my eyes glued to Harry’s phone locator. He’d moved one location so far. The hotel wasn’t too far from this location so I drop my bags off on the en-suite and head out into the beautiful city.
It’s buzzing despite the hour and I wish it was a calmer trip so I could take pictures and soak in the beauty of Vienna.
Instead I trudge on to the little dot on my phone and avoid thinking about Gray and how much he would love this city. And how badly I betrayed him tonight.
What to do when he won’t answer the phone: track his gps, get good at lock-picking and don’t be shy to call whoever he’s out with to get ahold of him. Harry not answering his phone unexpectedly usually means bad decisions.
I find Harry in a kitschy club but it’s not easy. In the flashes of blue and purple lights I sort through all the men about the same height as him. None of them are him.
I knew he was here. I scan the room a second time, he had to be in one of the private sections.
I walk the perimeter until I see a flash of a familiar laugh.
“Harry!” I shout but a man in a suit steps in front of me.
“Private area,” he says in a rough accent.
“I’m his assistant I need to see him!” I point to Harry but he just steps in my way again. I shout Harry’s name and on the second try he looks up.
“Heyy!” He lights up and picks his way over the people sitting around him. He loops his arm around the brick wall in front of me. “That’s y/n! Y/n you came let her in!”
“Thank you,” I shoot the man a dirty look even though I knew he was just doing his job. He was the difference between a PR disaster and no disaster. “Harry we-“
“Have a drink!” He slurs. My heart quickens when I get a glimpse of the table with an assortment of drugs all over it. “Relax. C’mon c’mon!”
Harry pours me champagne and leads me by the hand to where he was just sitting. A couple shift away to make room for me but I stay standing as Harry sinks into the cushion.
“Mr. Styles we-“
“Ms. Y/L/N,” Harry says seriously before bursting into laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this uninhibited before. One part of me is nervous and another part finds it intriguing.
He tugs me down and I tip into the couch, the champagne sloshing over the rim. What the-
“Relax,” he whispers into my ear. It goes straight to my stomach. “Have some champagne and enjoy the night!”
“I want to-“
“Your fiancé won’t let you drink with me? Is that the issue here?”
“No,” I bite. “I am taking you back-“
“I,” Harry sits up and hovers over me. “I am not speaking to you until you drink! Good god woman, lean back! Relax! What do Americans say take a chill pill?”
“I don’t need a chill pill.”
Harry mimes zipping his lips closed.
I roll my eyes and bring the champagne to my lips to take a mock sip but he must anticipate this. Using his finger he tips the glass even further. Half of it drips down my chin.
“Agh!” I jerk the glass away but Harry just laughs. “This is so not funny.”
He leans in smiling. I expect him to stop but he continues moving into me until his lips are on my jaw. His mouth coasts over my skin before he buries his head in my neck where the champagne had dripped down leaving a pool of heat-
“Harry!” I jerk away and push my hands into his chest to prop him up. His eyes are half-closed but as intense as ever as he looks into mine.
What the fuck. What the fuck just happened.
My hands are shaking, steady only because of the force of Harry pressing into them. I feel the tears springing to my eyes, why the fuck did he just…
“Sorry,” he smiles, his finger brushing my cheek. “Y’had some champagne there.”
It was nothing, I tell myself. He’s drunk and taken god knows what. He’s out of his mind. And he was going for the champagne, not me.
I loosen my arms but he comes back towards me again.
“Fuck this,” I mutter. I push him back into the sofa and get up. “We are going back to the hotel. Now.”
“Just stay a little longer here. It’s life. I’m bloody famous!” His hands come around my waist to pull me towards him but I dig my heel in.
I grab him by the shirt and haul his lanky body up, it’s like lifting a slab of marble. We nearly fall into the table but I catch us on my back leg in time.
I get us outside and call a taxi. Harry sways into me and I help keep him up.
“S’cold,” he complains.
“It’s really not.” I look back to him but he doesn’t look good. I lean him against the wall gently. “Harry look at me.”
He eyes stay closed but his head bobbles and he starts to tip forward again.
“Harry!” I nearly slap him. Instead I push him against the wall and use my body to keep him propped upright. I grab his face in my hands. “Harry look at me you’re scaring me.”
“You’re scaring me,” he slurs.
I shake his face a bit and try to pry open an eye which makes him laugh.
“I was alone,” he mumbles.
“I am not carrying you into or out of that car so you better stay conscious.” I tap his cheek.
“You’re no fun.” He says and I ignore him. “I was alone but you came.”
“Not out of any choice,” I mumble.
Our taxi arrives and I’m shaking him every few minutes to keep him conscious. At the hotel I get some help to his room when they recognize his face.
I drop him in bed with a sigh of relief. He looked pathetic like that. And I wanted to cry out of frustration.
I take his shoes off and then his shirt, deciding to keep his trousers on. I leave a bottle of water on his bedside with painkillers and head to the bathroom. For the second time tonight I get ready for bed.
I scrub the sticky champagne out of my neck and block out the feeling of his lips on me. Block out the confusing feelings that arose.
I grab my phone and pray for a text from Gray but there’s nothing. I update Jeff and he sends me a thumbs up. All that and just a fucking thumbs up.
***
Still no text from Gray the next morning.
Harry’s still in bed when I get up. I crack on and order both of us breakfast, ordering the most expensive things just to get something out of being here.
Harry wakes to the smell of coffee, groaning as soon as he sits up. I don’t know what he took last night but it serves him right.
“Y/n?” He sounds just as confused as last night.
“In the flesh,” I nearly growl.
“I thought Riley’s s’pose to be here?”
“So you do remember I’m supposed to be off all weekend.” I can’t hold back on the sass. I’m too mad at everyone.
“Yeah…what?”
“Riley quit.”
“Riley…quit? That’s why you’re here?”
“No.” I want to throw my cup of coffee in his face. “I’m here because you weren’t answering your phone last night and the only updates we were getting were compromising pictures of you absolutely pissed.”
“You sound like my publicist.”
“Your publicist had to pay the photographer off.”
“It couldn’t be that bad,” Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed and winces. He notices the painkillers and pops them. “Did you undress me?”
I pull the photos up on my phone and show them to him. He throws the phone down on the bed after a glance.
“Okay so he sent you to get me back to the hotel?”
“Jeff called me.”
“Jeff’s on holiday.”
“So was I.” My anger brews over. “I had 2 fucking days off Harry and I couldn’t even get that! You had to go to Vienna and get pappd doing the stupidest shit and of course I have to come in and save your ass because I can’t get any time these days to just be!”
He groans as he gets up and shuffles towards me. My heart picks up speed but he simply reaches for the coffee and takes a big gulp. The silence stretches out after my outburst and I wait with an anxious anger for what comes out of his mouth.
“You didn’t have to come. I could have lived with the consequences of being an idiot last night-“
“Jeff didn’t give me a choic-“
“There’s always a choice,” he holds up his finger to my face, hovering an inch from my lips. “Jeff can’t do shite. If he fired you he needs my final say. So again, I didn’t ask you to come here.”
Fuck him, I think. Does he really think I could have said no and gone on with my night? Since it didn’t come out of his mouth, he vanishes any accountability? He’d totally at fault here.
“Secondly,” he wasn’t finished I guess and his eyes are like laser beams into my soul. “It’s Mr. Styles.”
Anything I was about to mouth off on disappears. Like a sinkhole it all collapses below the surface and I’m left feeling as I always did—humiliated.
“Now,” Harry puts his cup down. “That’s not to say thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. I don’t remember a lot of it so I’m not sure what happened but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”
I don’t answer. I bite my tongue until it falls right off and I can swallow it. I wish I could also swallow the memory of his lips that spring to mind.
“It is a Sunday, if you’d like to take it off feel free. The stylist team is coming around 4 to get me ready for tonight.”
“Well, you’ll need me to coordinate this evening since that was the point of Riley being here,” my voice comes out smoother than I felt.
“Ok,” he dismisses me. “I need a shower.”
He leaves and I clench my fists to keep from throwing everything within range at him. How could he flip the script like this? Turn my life upside down and then act like he did nothing wrong?
I go to my phone and hover over Grayson to call him but i have a notification from him. He’s sent me a message, it’s a link.
I click it. It’s a small article in a tabloid about Harry Styles and his mystery woman. You can’t tell it’s me but our pose looks intimate from last night—him leaning against the wall with my knee in between his legs and my body propping him up while my hands hold his face.
But Grayson knows its me.
I get my other phone and message it in the group with Harry’s publicist.
He responds casually: It’ll blow over don’t worry. Can’t see your face plus romantic is better than looking fucked up like the other pics.
It would blow over for Harry but not for me.
I try to call Grayson but he doesn’t pick up.
I close the room door and bury myself in bed, aching so hard it was hard to believe I was still breathing. It felt like an end, I know I could talk it through with Grayson and explain once he saw the other photos. But something feels like it died tonight.
***
“Y/n?” A voice sings outside my door. “Helloo?”
I feel hungover as I open my crusty eyes. I’m in an unfamiliar room and-
“Hello hello?”
I sit up. I was in a hotel suite and I had to help get Harry to his show. Shit.
I look at the time, it’s nearly 5.
“Sorry!” I shout at whoever was behind the door. “Sorry one sec!”
One look in the mirror and I know I had to throw my hair up. I swish some mouthwash around and exit to the lounge.
“Hi,” a woman I’ve never met smiles kindly at me.
“Sorry. Did you need something from me?”
“Yes,” she takes my arm and leads me towards where Harry was getting his hair done. He looks amused as he watches me. “I need you here. We need to get you ready.”
“Oh no,” I say but sit where I’m told by this commanding woman. “Oh I’m just helping coordinate so you just focus on Mr.-“
“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice cuts me off. “Riley comes with me to these things when Jeff isn’t around. Since neither are here you’re joining me and Graham.”
I look for his publicist but I’m told he was running late. Great.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” I say as the woman takes a wet wipe to my face. “I thought I had Sunday off.”
“You reminded me you’re replacing Riley,” Harry says. “And I got the team to get you a few things but I don’t know your size. I’m sure one of them will fit. Kit can tailor it if you need.”
“Wha…” my face is positioned to the side and cream is dotted all over. I shut my mouth and glance at Harry which becomes a glare when I realize he’s enjoying this.
“Lighten up Y/N, it’s not the end of the world.”
He didn’t know. It was the end of my world.
***
The red carpet or whatever this imitation of it was is a sensory nightmare. Graham had explained on the car over I was to stick to the shadows with him and his security detail. I don’t know why they stuck me in this beautifully tailored pantsuit just to be in the shadows. But apparently I could keep it so I was happy about that.
While Harry gets his name shouted and photos taken I watch from the side, hiding behind Graham’s shoulder so I don’t get caught in any pictures. The flashes still make my head hurt.
Again, we stand off to the side as Harry gets interviewed by labels I recognized and others that must be local. One woman has the nerve to ask,
“So Harry the whole internet is dying to know who your mystery woman is. Would you like to give our viewers a hint?”
I stiffen and Graham glances my way with a warning look. He’d already prepped Harry in the car but I couldn’t believe someone would be so bold as to ask. But that was show business.
“Ah you know what the media’s like, all out of context. I love the theories especially the one about this being my secret fiancé but I would like the viewers to know I’m not engaged, very much single, and not to believe everything you see online.”
I hold my breath as Harry answers but he’s a natural, I had to admit. He went off script a little—he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the content of the photo, but he did so with grace and humour. Wow. I could learn a few things.
Graham relaxes beside me once the reporter laughs and asks if he sees himself not being single any time soon. When we finally move on Graham wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gives it a shake.
“You did good kid,” he kisses his cheek with all the leftover adrenaline from the carpet. “I’ll see you in there. I see some friends I want to catch up with first.”
Then it’s just Harry and I, and his shadow of a security detail who Harry dismisses while he’s inside the room.
“So I guess now’s the part you go to your seat?” I ask. There was no What to do at an Awards Show so I was clueless and I decided I would create one myself to keep the legacy of all these dos and don’ts.
“It is,” Harry looks…nervous? His eyes flicker around the room and his jaw twitches. I do a sweep of my own, there’s a lot of people I don’t recognize and those I do I’m just about dying trying to stay casual.
“I thought that reporter was going to propose after you cleared up how single you were.”
“Hm?” Harry looks at me—in heels I was finally near eye-level to him. His gaze clears as he takes in what I said and I consider it a win getting him back down to earth. “Oh. Her, yeah she was cheeky with those questions wasn’t she?”
His smile makes me stomach dip. “Yeah she slipped them in so expertly. I thought ‘I have to take some tips from her’. And you, you were good dodging the question.”
“I didn’t lie,” Harry’s now fully engaged in our conversation. I give myself a pat on the back. “It was just you and I am still single.”
Just you. I fake a laugh, “Yeah. That photo is proof that I’m stronger than I look because you were deadweight and I managed to get you to bed y’know that.”
His green eyes flicker up and down my face for a beat. “I know that. I…hope that picture didn’t get you into any trouble.”
I look away, unsure how to answer. He brings a hand to my arm. “I can talk to someone if it helps?”
“Oh no,” my cheeks flush. “No I don’t think that would make anything better but thank you. I…appreciate the-“
“Harry? Oh my god it’s you!”
I retreat in a quarter of a second, invisible once again for Harry to shine with his colleagues. It’s a singer I recognize but I only remember her stage name, Dragon something. I watch them embrace and I try to wind up the spool of thread I’d released when Harry showed some kindness.
I think I had some issues, I became unrecognizable every time Harry was nice for a moment. I had to remember that it was temporary and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross.
Yesterday flashes into my mind. God, was it just yesterday?
Harry starts walking with the other musician arm in arm. It comes to me as I follow why I knew her. There were rumours shortly before I interviewed with Harry about seeing him on the town with this woman. So they had history. Of course.
By the time Graham joins me in our seats I’ve become part of the wallpaper and I feel like I’m being torn away when he acknowledges me to ask if everything had gone ok. I stay invisible for the rest of the evening and I try to remember that’s how it would be.
***
We’re sat on the tarmac for the ride home and I try to refresh my messages over and over but Gray hasn’t responded after I’d told him we had to talk. He was stupidly good at the cold shoulder and I felt like a needy bitch whenever he got like this.
“Could I get a water y/n?” Harry asks from across the aisle. He has his head tipped back and he looks awful—consequences of an after party where he drank himself silly again and relied on me to get him home. I did make friends with some other PAs who were roped to the party so that was the only highlight.
“Sure.” I go to the front of the jet where Graham is typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the rest of us. I grab Harry a coffee too. “It’ll help with the hangover.”
Harry accepts it graciously and I go back to refreshing my phone.
I thought he’d fallen asleep an hour into the flight until he unbuckles his seat and slips in beside me.
“Can I get your phone?” He holds his hand out.
“Why?” I ask suspiciously.
“You’re driving me crazy refreshing that thing it’s like you’re getting paid per refresh.”
I was lost in a trance doing it. I put the phone facedown on my lap but he takes it from me.
“Hey-“
“I’m keeping this until we land. I promise you if you haven’t gotten any messages by now you won’t get any at all.”
His patronizing tone wriggles something loose and I have to look away, out the window, so he doesn’t see the tears.
“My offer still stands,” he says quietly after my silence. I shake my head.
“Thanks,” my voice wavers. “It won’t help. He just gets…quiet. Any time there’s an issue he just goes quiet and it drives me f…crazy. I feel crazy.”
“You kind of look it.” I’m ready to throw him a dirty look but Harry’s smiling when I look at him. I was rarely on the receiving end of such a handsome look that I forget I was going to be mad. “What? You do, hunched over your phone pressing down over and over. My neck hurts just looking at you.”
I sigh and leans back into the seat, trying to straighten myself out.
“Sorry,” I sniffle. “I just need some sort of proof of life from him. He knows it drives me crazy when he ignores me but he does it anyway. He could be dead for all I know. Anyway, I’ll stop now you can give me my phone back.”
“Mmm no,” Harry pats the pocket he put it in. “You listen to me. It stays here.”
I don’t fight him. It was for my own good.
He sits with me for the rest of the flight. It should be uncomfortable but having another person’s presence beside me—knowing there was a shoulder pressing against mine, makes me feel a little less lonely today.
He probably didn’t intend that, I rethink the thought. Harry wasn’t thoughtful like that, he was probably just too lazy to move back.
We take the car home when we land but Harry tells me to take the rest of the Monday off even though it was already 2.
“And y/n,” Harry stops me before I exit the car where it stalls outside my complex.
“Yes?” I wait for the other shoe to drop—I had the day off but…
“If he knows it drives you crazy, and he truly loves you, he should respect you and give you a chance to talk. You deserve that.”
My breath catches at the unexpected words. I feel my defences go up.
“You’ll work it out,” he rushes on when I don’t respond.
I’m left feeling slightly reassured and mostly confused.
“Thank you,” I look at him a beat too long and it feels awkward so I scramble out and head up. To someone I hope was willing to listen like Harry said.
***
Like a baby calf out of the womb, my relationship stays on shaky grounds. It feels like building a foundation all over again after thinking that was already done with, but Hurricane Harry had caused a lot of damage.
Now 9 months into my new job I wasn’t always so on edge. But I was busy.
With no Riley, the team had decided to hold off on hiring anyone new and my work load had tripled. I’d brought it up casually and just as casually Harry had let me know I would be compensated.
I thought about Vienna a lot. Things were done and said there that should change our dynamic but didn’t. Not much. Harry was still an ass, he still demanded most of my time, and I still suffered from major anxiety about my life falling apart.
So maybe I was still on edge, just about different things.
“G’morning,” Gray whispers to me. I wanted to sleep in and cuddle with my fiancé but I’d already snoozed my alarm and I knew I had to get to work. I had errands to run all over town.
“Morning,” I burrow my head into his warm body. “I don’t wanna work.”
He kisses the top of my head. “How about I join you on some of those errands you mentioned? We can get coffee?”
I’m suddenly excited about going to work.
Gray laughs when I climb over him and kiss him like a lunatic, and we’ve been together too long to be embarrassed about morning breath or pillow face. I can’t believe I almost lost him.
The day is perfect as Gray and I move around town doing odd bits. We get to grab lunch together and I’m so glad what a good sport Gray had been about it all since I’d forced him to carry any heavy items.
“I’ll see you for dinner,” Gray drops me off at Harry’s. We linger in the lobby for a few minutes. “I’m cooking.”
“Mmm can’t wait,” I kiss him before taking the load from him. “Thank you for coming with me today.”
“I had fun, I hate to admit it.” He grins as I walk backwards to the elevator. He takes my breath away.
Grayson’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but I collide into a body behind me before he can warn me.
“Oh shit sorry I-“ I turn and Harry stands behind me with Jeff walking off the elevator. He was probably headed to the studio and I was late. Dammnit!
“Y/N,” Harry says.
“I’m so. Sorry,” I look between Gray, Jeff, and Harry. Do I introduce everyone? Do I apologize and rush to drop these things off so I could join them like I’m supposed to?
Jeff makes it easy, walking away on his phone. Then it’s Harry and Gray.
“I’m sorry I meant to be upstairs five minutes ago.” I tell Harry who’s expression is hard to read. “Uhm…this is Grayson my fiance I don’t think y’all have met he was just dropping me off since I had my hands full. Um. Gray this is…well you know who this is I-“
My blabbering is cut short as Harry steps forward to shake hands and I nearly die at the steely look Gray gives him. Also, why the fuck did I say y’all?! I wasn’t even southern.
“Grayson Duran yeah? Nice to meet you,” Harry says. I’m surprised he knows his full name. He must have asked his friends.
“Yeah,” Gray drops his hand. “The infamous Harry Styles—I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Likewise,” Harry says, glancing at me. Why would he say that. “As much as I’d love to chat, y/n you’re late and we’re heading to the studio. Can you give all that to the concierge?”
“Yes,” I nod. “Have you got-“
“I grabbed my things yes. I’ll see you in the car.”
Harry nods to Gray and leaves an air of cologne and annoyance behind. Gray and I lock eyes and I burn with embarrassment.
“What a dick,” Gray mumbles.
I’m offended, wait, why am I offended? It’s not like Harry wasn’t a dick.
“Yeah, I gotta go sorry babe.” I rush to the concierge and explain the delivery.
“Y’all?” Gray asks when I rush back to him.
“I know I know,” I cringe. “It just came out. I gotta go but thank you so much for today. Loveyoubye!”
I give him a quick peck and rush out, nearly collapsing into Harry’s car.
“Sorry about that, being late. That won’t happen again I meant to be there before you left-“
“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Harry says stiffly, staring out the window. He was a dick, Gray was right. But why was I so offended at him saying that right after meeting him?
Things felt so confusing these days and I just wanted time to catch my breath and figure things out. A few more weeks and I’d get some time off for the holidays at least, I was looking forward to that.
***
Even though I planned the intimate holiday party and spent countless hours on the phone making sure every detail would be perfect I can’t help but criticize it as I join.
“Maybe I should have gone with a live band,” I mutter as someone takes mine and Grayson’s coats. Tonight I was supposed to shut my brain off as Harry said, and enjoy the party as a guest. But that part was hard to shut off after nearly 10 months of re-wiring it.
Grayson was tough to convince but finally he’d agreed to come to the party. Things were mostly back to normal with us. I tried to be home by 7 most nights and didn’t talk about work too much.
But sometimes it felt like a volcano lived inside me with how much I had to compartmentalize and keep in and when times got really tough, I wanted to spew everywhere.
“Josie told me your mom’s doing bohemian Christmas?” I ask Gray as we hover by the foyer. I’d just had a catchup with her yesterday now that she was finished exams. “Do you know what that means.”
“Mum’s crazy,” Gray sighs. His relationship with her was always followed by a sigh, an eye roll, a heavy resignation for who she was. I never quite understood it.
Josie, on the other hand, loved their loud and free-spirited mother. As for me, I thought she was the most interesting woman I ever met and we’d gotten along instantly.
“She’s always got some new idea up her sleeve,” I try to make things more positive. “What do you want a bet it’s going to be vegan?”
“I don’t bet when I know that’s what she’s serving. That’s why we do dad’s for lunch and hers for dinner. We’re too stuffed once we get there to care what she’s serving.”
“Remember when I tried to get you to go vegan and-“
“Y/N! Hi,” I’m interrupted by a friendly face in the crowd and end up chatting with people I’d worked with the last few months. We introduce our partners and they chat but I keep an eye on Grayson, in case anything changes.
I watch Harry’s friends trickle in and Gray lights up when he sees Liam and a few other people he trained.
I flit around the room with ease after that, knowing Gray had friends to keep him company. I make sure drinks are filled and catering is setting up. Until a hand stops me.
“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” Harry reminds me.
“Yes. Right. Well…”
“Y/N,” he warns.
“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Not working, here look I’m enjoying myself!”
I pick up a random drink and take a big sip. Champagne. Suddenly I remember the last time I drank champagne in front of Harry and I nearly cough it back up.
“Ugh,” Harry hands me a napkin and I try not to bristle. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yeah sorry just…just not a fan of champagne.”
We lock eyes and I’m gripped with the sudden and very real possibility that Harry may actually remember parts of that night.
When his eyes flicker down to my neck, it’s confirmed. Oh god.
“Well! I’m off to find a better drink!” I turn too quickly, nearly taking out the caterer who was setting up hors d’œuvres on the table. “Sorry!”
Oh my god. Harry remembered.
Did he remember this whole time? Was he pretending to forget that night? Did he ever remember the moment randomly in my presence like I did?
I had to stop freaking out. It had been months!
Where was Grayson.
I locate my fiancé in a random group but his eyes are already on me. I raise a hand and he smiles, raising a finger to tell me he’d be there in a moment.
My mind races in the meantime, wondering if I should mention the incident to Harry and tell him I was fine. Or maybe that proved the opposite. No. I should just keep it unspoken like we had this whole time. Oh my god!
“Quite a turnout,” Grayson comes back to me. Two drinks in his hand. “I saw you talking to Harry why did you look so scared? Did he say something?”
“Oh!” Of course Gray saw. “No. I just…almost choked on my champagne the fizz y’know? And then I didn’t want to make a scene so I left.”
“Hm,” Gray wraps his hand around my waist. “Hey I see a mistletoe I’m going to nudge you in that direction.”
“You don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me babe.”
“It’s supposed to be romantic.”
I let him lead me to it and he kisses me with a knee-bending passion.
“Woah,” I feel dazed when we finally part. “That was fucking romantic.”
“Yeah?” He grins.
“Excuse me!” Harry’s voice rings over the crowd and the room hushes slowly. “Uh hiya! Thank you all for coming tonight and making me feel like I have friends during the holidays.”
A quiet laugh rumbles over the crowd. Harry looks magnetic on his makeshift podium, he’s in a cozy red sweater that I know cost more than my month’s salary and a collar peeks out from under it. He’s got on navy slacks and tinsel thrown over his shoulder. I’d bought that sweater, I remember. But he managed to pull the rest of the outfit together well.
“…a few people.” He continues. I’d zoned out. “My manager Jeff of course—this year has been a roller coaster and you’ve managed it all. Charlie, Claire, Niji, Elin, Sarah, and Mitch. We had a ball playing our hidden shows this fall but we have so much planned for the year ahead. I’m beyond grateful that you all came into my life and we get to make music together!”
A few whoops in the crowd and the people he mention raise their hands and shout out their own praises to Harry.
Harry thanks a few more people and says some more kind words. I don’t expect him to zero in on me.
“Last, but not least folks, I want to thank somebody who joined my team this year. She’s seen a lot—she’s been in the trenches my friends, she has. But she’s stuck with me. She’s planned everything tonight so really you’re all here because of her. Y/N, please make yourself known and everyone should give her a thank you if you talk to her tonight for tonight.”
Oh god. I am as bright as Harry’s sweater and with every single eye turning on me I’m sure I also turn every shade of the rainbow. I paste on a grin that feels like I’m the Joker and hope it looks normal.
I wave awkwardly and make eyes with Harry across the room who looks like he’s having a ball putting me in the centre of everyone’s attention. I was really going to wring his neck but he winks at me and finally turns the attention back to him with a few closing words, then starting the music and food.
“Am I alive?” I ask Gray beside me whose hand had dropped from my waist during the last few minutes. “I think I died of embarrassment and turned into the ghost of Christmas’ present.”
I turn to Gray and he looks around me. “Hello? Is someone talking to me?”
“Gray!” I push his shoulder and he laughs. “I hated every second of that.”
“I know,” Gray laughs again. “You hate attention.”
“I do! I swear Harry was up there gloating didn’t you notice? Ugh I hate him.”
Gray’s expression shutters for a second. “Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.”
“Y/N, quite a shoutout.” A voice says from my right. It’s Liam who I hadn’t seen myself in ages. I go in for a hug and hope my embarrassment clears away as we catch up.
As the night goes on I ease up a little, enjoy the mingling and the drinks. Especially the drinks. The evening’s embarrassment and everyone coming up to me knowing my name was hell so I drink to keep up the liquid courage.
Coming out of the toilets for the tenth time that night with all the drinks I was downing, I notice a light on in the room.
I go to it, in case it was a guest in a place they shouldn’t be.
I don’t spot him at first, flicking off the lights only to see a shadow move. Harry.
“Oh! It’s you. Is everything alright?” I lean in the doorway. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in this office actually. He always hovered outside it like I was now.
“Yeah yeah, just came for some air.” He walks up to me and I step out of the way so he can leave. But he stays just inside so I move back to my spot.
“Air? In the smallest room here?”
“Yeah,” he smiles like he’s been caught. “I was looking for you. We ran out of ice I just don’t remember where you stored the rest.”
“Well I’m not working remember? So I don’t know.”
“Touché. I guess the guests will just have a shite time with their lukewarm drinks.”
Ugh. He knew me too well.
“Fine. I’ll get the bag. By the way, that wasn’t funny. What you did earlier.” I put my hands on my hips, ready to give him a piece of my mind for embarrassing me.
“What!? It wasn’t meant to be funny. I’m expressing my gratitude y/n.”
“In front of a whole room of random people who are all looking at me? You know I would have hated it!”
“Let’s just say I’m trying to get you out of your shell,” Harry teases. He smells of his usual cologne, the fresh soap he used, and scotch. I spot the empty glass on my desk.
“I’m plenty out of my shell thank you. You know, you could have just said it to me privately. That would have meant more.”
His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He inhales sharply and turns around.
“What?” I ask his back.
“Nothing.” He turns back around. “You do good work y/n, people should know.”
Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I only seemed to do this when Harry was nice. Because otherwise I knew how mean he could be. Why couldn’t there just be a balance.
“Why are you so randomly nice to me?”
Oops. All those drinks made for some loose lips.
“What?” He’s taken aback.
“Yeah,” I feel fired up now that it’s out. “You ignore me half the time—not that I expect to be bffs but at least a hello now and then would be nice. Then when you do talk it’s grunts and clipped answers. You’re pretty mean to me! And suddenly out of nowhere it’s like-like this 180 and you’re really nice. And praising me in front of a crowd. What’s up with that?”
His expression retreats the more I talk and I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. Forget the whole speech just now I’m pretty sure I’ve just written my own termination notice.
“I have to be,” he says simply after an awkward pause.
“Have to?” I demand. “You have to be mean to me?”
The long deleted Dos and Dont list when I first joined flashes through my mind. Did that have something to do with it?
“Because when I spoke to Riley that one time for drinks, he told me you weren’t always this mean. So is it me? You just said to a whole crowd how helpful I am so I just don’t get why you’re so mean sometimes!”
“What else did Riley say?” Harry hangs on to that.
“I…a lot I dunno! Riley faffs a lot. He’s also a creep but that’s neither here nor there I-“
“What do you mean he’s a creep?” The room feels even smaller as he zeroes in.
“I-“ I try to stutter something to change the subject but he stays on, asking me again. “It’s nothing. He was drunk and he made a pass at me-“
“He did?! Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s zero space between the two of us now.
“Why would I? It was something that happened outside work hours, plus you warned me and I didn’t listen-“
“Y/n you should have told me,” he swears. “I let that little shite get away with way too much.”
“Yeah well he’s not the only person working here who’s made a drunken pass at me so let’s not make it a big deal okay?”
I guess I wasn’t holding back.
Harry closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. One mississippi two mississippi three-
“You’re right.”
My heart pounds in my chest. I want to get out of this room, find Gray, and stay in the light. Because this small, dimly lit space was becoming too intimate. And yet, I can’t seem to will myself to move.
“I am?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it—what I did was incredibly wrong. Being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse and I promise I don’t go around doing that to everyone-“
“I know,” I say before thinking. It was weird of Harry to do but I never felt unsafe with him. I understood what he was trying to say.
“You can make it a big deal if you want. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”
I feel weird having the roles reversed—Harry apologizing to me. Promising not to do something again. I recognize what he’s doing is right but I don’t know what to do with myself. My breathing’s shallow with Harry so close to me, practically hovering over me. I should’ve worn higher heels to really equal the field.
“Thanks,” I finally manage. It’s low and raspy and I barely get in enough air to speak it. He doesn’t respond.
We stay in the tableau, our breathing irregular, in between a single decision that both of us knew wouldn’t end well. Yet neither of us are strong enough to end the frozen display.
“You clean up nice,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as he compliments my getup. I’d worn a simple cowl-necked slip dress and strappy shoes with my hair in an up-do. I was definitely underdressed after seeing the other guests but I believe Harry means it.
“Don’t look as haggard as I usually do, you mean?” I find my voice again. I barely have to whisper for him to hear.
“You never look haggard,” Harry says as he brings his hand up and traces the curve of my dress strap. My heartbeat was loud and surely showing through my dress.
“You should go,” Harry adds in a whisper.
My head feels like it’s filled with carbonation as I nod in agreement. This was bad. With a capital B. I had to go.
“I…should go.” I repeat. Slowly I inch sideways on the wall and Harry leans away. We stare at each other for another long moment before I scurry away, my heart in my throat and my guilt where my heart should be.
“Don’t forget the ice,” I hear Harry call out from the room. Miraculously this is exactly when Grayson turns the corner.
“Y/n? Where were you?”
“Oh I-“ I imagined I looked fucked up. Because I felt high and out of my mind. The white lie comes out, attached to a thread that unstitches something within. “I drank too much, so I was in the toilet.”
“Oh,” Gray looks relieved and I’m sinking with guilt. Technically I did nothing wrong. I didn’t even have feelings for Harry. But whatever physical magnetism he seemed to have nearly made me do something I’d seriously regret. “Did I hear someone say something about ice?”
“Yeah!” I laugh and it comes out like I had never learned how. “I just bumped into Harry, we ran out of ice. So much for not working huh?”
“At least everyone knows how hard you work,” he jokes.
I stick to Gray’s side for the rest of the night, not touching a single drop of alcohol. I had to forget everything in that room ever happened if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity. I had to be a better person, the devil was handsome and I had to stop playing into his tricks.
I call it quits a few hours later when I notice Gray low on energy.
“I’ll get our coats,” I tell him. The relief on his face is palpable.
I go through where the spare closet was but hear voices in Harry’s darkened room. The door’s open so I go to investigate. I regret it instantly.
Harry’s inside with a woman, I don’t see much of her as she’s on the bed but I know it’s Harry with the tone of his voice as they exchange words.
My stomach drops and it’s like an accident on the side of the road, I’m mortified but I can’t look away.
I watch him kiss her and I feel like I’m sinking through the floorboards.
“Oh!” The woman notices me when she turns her head and pulls the sheet up. She whispers, “you didn’t close the-“
“Oh it’s fine,” Harry laughs. He sits back on his legs and looks at me, his expression void of anything he was tonight. Like the moment in the room didn’t even happen. “It’s just y/n.”
Of course it didn’t matter to him, I scold myself. I was the one with fucked up issues that couldn’t make up my stupid mind about how I wanted to feel about this man who literally paid me to be around. Who treated me like shit most of the time. Who was nice to me sometimes and I misconstrued it to mean a whole lot more.
What was I thinking? Did I think suddenly this man who’s known to be a player had a single one-sided intense moment with me and that would change him?
I was an absolute idiot.
“Could you get the door?” Harry asks so casually, so nonchalantly, that it punches me in the chest. It was closer to some combination of humiliation and self-inflicted hurt but for now it feels like my chest aches.
“O-of course.” I shut the door and stand there, taking in deep breaths as I try not to think about everything that just happened. Tried not to think of all the million ways I was the worst girlfriend in the world. Tried not to think about the fact that I had to quit sooner than later because things were getting tangled up and it was not okay.
xxxxxxxxxx
TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld
I’m trying to make part 3 the last—it includes your final decisions and returning to the present to find out what happens (from the beginning of the story). Thank you, as always, for reading <3 xx
#harry styles fic#writingsfromhome#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles#fic#harry styles angst#harry styles series#musician!harry#slow burn
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Dos and Don’ts of H Styles
A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.
Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
——————————————
I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.
“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.
“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”
“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”
He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”
“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.
“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.
Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.
This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.
“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.
“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.
I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.
I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.
I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.
I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.
The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.
“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.
“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”
“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”
Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.
My networks:
🔗H’s iPhone
I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.
The second instinct wins. Kind of.
I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.
He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.
The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.
He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?
I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.
He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.
Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.
And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.
“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.
About 2 years ago:
I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.
I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.
After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.
My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.
We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.
My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.
“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”
“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”
“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”
“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”
“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.
I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.
I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.
The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.
“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.
“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.
“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”
Think think, just be calm and think!
“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”
“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”
As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.
“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”
“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”
“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”
I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”
“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”
Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.
“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.
“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”
He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”
He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.
I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.
Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.
I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.
I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.
“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”
“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.
“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”
“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“
“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.
My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?
I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.
But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.
“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.
“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”
“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”
“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“
“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.
I swallow the knot in my throat once more.
I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.
“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.
“What?” He stares right through me.
“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”
He nods.
I stay silent for the rest of the ride.
The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.
People swarm around Harry.
“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.
What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”
“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.
“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.
“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.
“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”
He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”
I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.
In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.
I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.
Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.
Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.
Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.
I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.
I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.
It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.
Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.
I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.
What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.
The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.
I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.
Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles
I open it:
-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer
-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist
-don’t fall for his charm
-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting
-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite
-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.
-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF
I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.
***
It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.
I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.
I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.
That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.
I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired
The notes were my saving grace.
“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.
What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water
Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.
I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.
“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”
“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.
It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.
“Well?”
“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.
“1021.”
I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“
“Reply to him.”
I do as I’m told.
“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“
“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”
I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.
I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.
Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.
I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.
“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”
“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”
“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.
I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.
I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.
“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.
“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”
“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.
“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.
***
If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.
Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.
It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.
He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.
Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.
“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.
I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.
“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”
“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”
“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”
“Stuff,” Harry repeats.
I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.
“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.
He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”
Was he joking? He was joking…I think.
“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”
He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.
“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”
It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.
“I meant they don’t really know me.”
“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”
“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”
“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.
“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.
I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.
I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.
“What happened to your blazers?”
I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.
I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.
“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“
“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”
“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.
“Did you make that yourself?”
He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”
“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.
“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”
“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.
“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.
He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.
“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.
I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.
I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.
“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”
Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.
“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”
“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”
“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”
Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.
“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.
“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.
Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.
“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“
“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.
For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?
I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.
A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.
“Oh my…Harry Styles?”
Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.
What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.
“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.
“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“
“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.
“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.
“I don’t think Mr-“
“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”
Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?
I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.
He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.
When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.
“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.
Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.
“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"
His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.
“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.
***
“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”
“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”
“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”
“That’s what you said last weekend.”
Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.
“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”
“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”
“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?
“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.
“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”
“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.
“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”
“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”
“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.
“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?
“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”
It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.
“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”
He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.
I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.
“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.
“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.
“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”
“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.
His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.
“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.
“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”
The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”
“A friend?”
“My fiancé’s younger sister.”
Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?
“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.
“Yeah, nearly a year now.”
“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”
“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“
“What does he do?”
“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.
“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”
“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.
“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.
“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”
“Best to get going then.”
I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.
I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.
I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.
I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.
I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.
“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”
“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.
“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.
“What?” I whisper.
“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.
“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.
“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”
“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”
“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”
I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.
“Go ahead, have you eaten?”
I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.
“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.
“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”
“It’s different y/n.”
“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.
Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.
“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.
“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.
I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.
“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”
“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”
On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me
What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-
Oh.
Fuck.
I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.
I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.
I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.
I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.
“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”
“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“
“It’s Saturday fucking night.”
“Yeah but-“
“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”
Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.
I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“
He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.
“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“
“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”
“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”
“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”
“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“
“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”
“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.
Fuck Harry.
I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!
What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.
An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.
The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?
“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.
“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.
Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?
“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.
“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.
“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.
“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“
“I told you to call me?”
“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“
“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.
“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”
He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”
I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.
“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.
“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.
“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”
He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”
I nod.
“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”
“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.
“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”
“Good night Mr. Styles.”
Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.
So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.
***
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Dos and Don’ts III
A/N: firstly apologies for the wait and secondly I absolutely did not want to cut this into another part but here we are 😢 I think this will change some ppls opinions oops dont hate me
Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
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I couldn’t put my finger on it but something was off in my life; I felt disconnected from myself, my friends, and most importantly from Gray. But getting Gray to communicate when he didn’t want to could feel like pulling teeth. And I was no dentist.
I figured the solution was to stubbornly throw myself into work. After all, with Harry’s European tour starting March there was always a lot to do.
“Nice of you to get here so early,” Harry says as I step off the elevators just before 9–an hour later than I usually do.
“I had dry cleaning to pick up,” I ignore his sarcasm. “Your tour fits aren’t going to magically appear in the penthouse as nice as that would be for me.”
I keep my tone light, joking, but it’s passive just as he is. And he can’t call passive out.
That’s what working for Harry has been like since December. It was winter outside these walls and inside.
I had originally decided to let it all go after sitting with the party’s events that weekend but upon arriving to work Harry had been particular asshole-ish and I decided two could play at the game. It was like the holiday party never happened. And I was okay with that.
“If they did, I wouldn’t need you would I?” Harry takes on the same tone I do.
Asshole, “yeah, how nice would that be.”
I walk away to his closet to hang up the garment bags.
“You still have two fits that need final fitting. For today, you’ve got a 2pm for your ear plugs and monitors,” I say as I walk back into the main living space. I take in Harry in his bathrobe and bedhead and realize he must be hungover. Which meant extra grumpy. “Also a meeting before noon with Jeff—he’s sick so he’ll do a Zoom. And rehearsals start tomorrow at 8am.”
The long-awaited tour he was rehearsing for was 2 months long and with his tour manager joining him I’d be kind of redundant. We agreed I’d start the tour with him, and then end it as he came back to the UK but I’d take a break in between.
“Good,” Harry sits on a barstool and as the robe parts I hoped he was wearing something underneath. “Are you joining rehearsals?”
“Tomorrow yeah,” I instinctively start tidying the coffee table littered with Harry’s activities from last night. There’s empty bottles and unused rolling papers, takeout containers and unopened bottles.
“Can you stop that,” Harry snaps. He’s wincing when I look up. “The clinking—it’s too loud.”
His second statement comes out softer but it doesn’t make him any less irritating.
“I’ll just toss these ones,” I take the ones I’d gathered in my hand.
“So,” he carries on with the earlier conversation. “Just tomorrow yeah?”
“Yep, to make sure everyone’s there, forms are signed, and all that. Jeff will drop by too. Otherwise I’ll just be there once a week or so since I have other things to complete.”
“So you’ll enjoy the full glory of the show once it’s live on stage?”
“I guess.”
“Please y/n reign in the excitement, it’s just too much.” Harry flexes his sarcasm again.
I look up from the other side of the island and lock eyes with him. With one bottle still in my hand I don’t put it in gently, instead letting it drop onto the others in the bin. His face twists in pain and I get my hit of satisfaction.
“I am excited,” I continue. “I’ll be more excited when you get on tour but right now I’m buried under an insane amount of logistics and stuff. So I’m just pacing myself.”
“Glad you got that out of your system,” he slides off the stool. “Are you sure you want to join tour? It takes a toll.”
“What? Am I taking up the space you reserved for groupies?” I goad.
He pretends to think, “No…we’ve got a whole other bus for that.”
“Great,” I smile. “Then I’ll definitely be there for the start of your tour, cheering you on.”
“Not too hard though,” Harry grabs a water from the fridge and heads towards the bedrooms. “Can’t have all of y/n’s enthusiasm overshadowing my fans.”
I roll my eyes behind his back and choose not to respond, as tempting as it was.
By the end of the week I’ve met everyone that’ll be joining the tour, taken copies of a million contracts and filed a billion papers.
It’s Saturday night and we’re heading home from the studio. Harry, in a twist of kindness, offers to drop me home.
“You don’t live too far,” he comments as we get closer to my building.
“Yeah, I was surprised with that.” It was a stroke of luck having a short commute.
“How does Mr. Duran feel about you coming on tour?”
I throw him a look but he sits there smug, waiting. “Well he’s not keen on me being away from home for so long but otherwise he’s fine.”
“Is he?” Harry extends his knee to nudge mine, irritating me. Just a few more minutes.
“Yes.” I turn to look out the window, no longer interested in the conversation. In reality Gray had been pretty upset that I’d be travelling the continent with womanizer Harry Styles. I’d soothed his fears but he was hard-headed about it.
Originally I’d saved the conversation to be had after New Year’s to not ruin the holidays but Josie had brought up tickets for the tour during Christmas dinner and although I played it off then, he’d been in a mood since.
“You’re an awful liar,” Harry says. I don’t respond. Luckily I’m home.
I figured Sunday, on my day off, Gray and I could catch up and spend quality time together. Maybe iron out some of our kinks. But he tells me he had a few sessions and I’m left alone for most of the day, convinced Gray booked them on purpose but not wanting to admit what that meant.
The following Thursday night, Gray and I finally collide after I’d spent the week stewing in my anger and anxieties.
“Why won’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m living with a stranger these days.” The conversation starts out semi-tamed as we wash up for dinner.
“You feel that way? Well I’ve seen my fiancée for less than 48 hours a week this last year. Talk about being a stranger.”
“I’ve been taking more time off,” I wonder when he decided to count the number of hours. But it was true—I’d started doing a half-days on most Saturdays and coming home earlier on week nights. Like tonight, I’d been home by half past 6. “I’ve been trying to spend more time at home.”
“Too little too late,” Gray mutters.
“What?”
“I just mean,” he sighs. “I…y/n, we barely get time together. We’re like flatmates these days aren’t we? We haven’t-“
“Don’t you dare Gray,” I wasn’t having this. I refused to hear what he was trying to get at.
“Y/n don’t be difficult-“
“Difficult!? You can’t go radio silent on me and then decide 3 years can just go down the drain.”
“I’m not saying that-“
“Then what are you saying!?”
The silence rings to the corners of our kitchen. The dishes are long forgotten, suds drip down my elbow and onto the floor, and Gray’s towel hangs like a white flag beside him.
“You knew what this job meant—you work with the same clientele, and you encouraged me to go for it. I’m trying to be better I don’t get it.” I finally say.
“I’m saying something needs to change.”
What takes me back the most is the even—even apathetic, tone. It’s the fact that he must have been thinking on this for long enough to be so level-headed about it.
Who has he talked to, I wonder. His sister? Our friends? Who’s advised him to go in this direction because the Grayson I know wouldn’t do me like this. Couldn’t.
Are you even the y/n Grayson knows, a small voice asks in my head.
“We’ve changed, I get it.” My tone takes a pleading ring to it and I hate it. “But you can’t just decide this isn’t worth fighting for Gray-“
“I’m not Y/n,” he puts the towel to the side and grabs my arms. “I’m not throwing anything away but we need to bloody figure something out because…I’m unhappy. And can you really say our relationship is the same? Can you call what we’re in a relationship?”
“Why not?” I whisper, tears choking me. “I thought we love each other and we support each other and-and we see each other through thick and thin.”
“I love you,” Gray squeezes. “And I know we’ve seen each other through thick and thin but…I don’t know if I can keep supporting you at the expense of us.”
“Well what do you want?” I look up into his brown eyes. They’re steady like they usually were.
“I want you, selfishly. I want all of you.”
He had what he wanted, didn’t he get that? He had me. I don’t know what more of me I could give him. And that thought tears me right through.
“What happened to setting a date?” Gray steps back and takes his steady grip with him. I sink into the countertop behind me. “What happened to planning for our future? Marriage and kids and buying a home and doing something more?”
His voice raises as he talks.
“I feel like I’ve been living in limbo for the last year! Just waiting around for you. I don’t know how much longer I can wait-“
“We can set a date,” I say. “We can do all that! You-you haven’t brought up any of it either! If it’s been weighing on your mind why don’t you ever just say something!?”
“I shouldn’t have to!”
I’d hit a nerve. We’d had this conversation a dozen times.
“Of course you do! Like, I’m not a mind reader you’ve been stewing in these feelings for god knows how long and now you’re telling me you’re thinking of-of-of ending things!?”
There, I’d said it.
His face contorts into a flurry of emotions. My body feels ragged just saying these things out loud.
“When I spoke to Stewart and Bex they said-“
“Stewart and…” I was right he’s been talking. “You were talking to Stew and Bex!? Since when did you spend time with Bex?”
“Since I had a lot of time alone at home.”
Fuck, he managed to get the upper hand all the time with that one valid point he had.
“They both agreed with me that this isn’t right. I’m allowed to be upset and ask you for something to change-“
“But why didn’t you talk to me!” The switch to anger is quick when he admits he was talking to our friends. I think about the last few times we saw them—had they been judging me? Had Gray told them by then?
Gray tries to brush past and tell me more about his validated feelings, about how things had changed. I can’t hear anymore.
“This decision you seem to want to make for both of us should involve me too and yet you make it the talk of the town before consulting me. I’m so goddamn tired of the way you shut down Gray I-“
“I’m tired!” He butts in. “I’m tired of watching things change and being forced to move past it.”
I stare at him. He’s not bending whatsoever. He’s not even understanding the frustration at being the last to know his feelings on our fucking relationship. Didn’t he understand how iced out that made me feel? When I’ve been trying to be as mindful as I can?
“You know what Gray,” I sneer. “You talk about us changing but did you ever think that we’ve been changing since we first met!? The only thing that’s different now is we stopped talking!”
I throw the rest of the dishes into the soapy water and storm out to the only safe haven I had right now—our bed.
Everyone wanted parts of me I couldn’t give and I felt torn to shreds! I hardly recognized the girl in the mirror, I hardly remembered what it felt like to be me.
The only time I felt centered, a bit of calm, was here. With Gray.
And now I knew the feelings weren’t mutual. He’d been thinking of ending things while I had curled in his arms. While I had kissed him goodnight and hello. While we had dinner or drinks. While we hung out with friends who were privy to all the cracks in our relationship. Who knows how long it had been a one-sided feeling.
I bury my head into my pillow wanting to scream and cry at the same time. My head hurts but mostly my heart hurts. I feel betrayed by my bestest friend and the person I love the most.
You’re no better, the ugly voice in my head shows up again. You’ve done things you should be ashamed of.
I block the voice out. I block it all out until all I feel is numb.
Gray doesn’t come to bed at all that night. I drag myself out of the nest I’d created some time around midnight, thinking he fell asleep on the sofa. To tell him to come to bed since I knew our sofa wasn’t long enough for him to even fit on.
I sway in the middle of the empty living room. There’s nobody here. Definitely not Gray. He’d left altogether, to wherever he’s been finding refuge recently.
It hits me; I think I’ve done this to myself. I was alone. Really alone.
***
The scowl is permanently etched onto my face as I go about my Friday morning. I feel Harry’s eyes on me a few times but even he doesn’t broach the subject. We silently maneuver around each other until he leaves for rehearsal.
I think about calling my friends to talk about this but I realize all my friends who were up to date on my life had become interwoven with Gray’s. And I already know Gray complained about my job to them based on a few parties last year. So they definitely wouldn’t be unbiased listening to anything I said.
I regret then, not staying in touch more with my friends back home. For the first time in years I feel a bit homesick.
I decide busying myself with work would be the only thing to keep me sane so I throw on headphones and get down to business.
As the day starts to come to an end I put on Harry’s stereo with the mournful songs that had been comforting me today and grab a seltzer from the fridge. He wouldn’t be home until 8 tonight and he’s always been open about using whatever was in the general living spaces.
So I nearly have a heart attack when I see a shadow from the corner of my eyes around 6.
I give a shout when it comes with a voice and once my senses return I realize it’s just a sweaty Harry back early from rehearsal.
“What? Are you doing here!?” I press on my pounding heart. “Alexa music off.”
He’s grinning at the way I reacted and now he laughs, it’s a bending-over laugh and I chuckle myself as I replay how dramatic it all was.
“Wow.” He says when he finally catches his breath. “I wish I had that on video.”
“Jesus,” I swear. “I thought you’d be home a lot later.”
“So this is what happens when I’m not home,” he teases.
“Only on Fridays,” I collapse into the closest chair and tilt my head back. “God, I thought there was like, an intruder or something. Or a ghost.”
He laughs again, moving to the kitchen for a water. “Good thing ghosts don’t exist.”
“They so do.” I reply.
“There’s no proof that’s ever convinced me they exist.”
“You live a sad skeptical life Mr. Styles.” My breathing is finally regulated and I sit up to look at him. “I’ve seen one myself when I was a teen. I wish I could be a disbeliever like you.”
“You’ll have to tell me the story,” he leans on the island looking very amused.
“I will,” I accept his challenge.
“I cut rehearsals short,” he continues. “I’m knackered from this week. I just want to be one with my couch and get drunk and not worry about what moves to do and what song to sing.”
“Yeah,” he looked tired and his hair was getting a bit shaggy. He runs his hand through the damp curls. “I need a shower and I think I should do a trim.”
“Consider it booked,” I pull the phone towards me and text his usual stylist. I hear him move around the space and pause before he disappears down the hall.
“Are you heading home soon?” He asks.
“Hm?” I kill time responding, acting like I didn’t hear his response. I didn’t want to go home at all. I didn’t even know if Gray was home or not and I didn’t want to find out. Harry repeats his question. “No. I wanted to wrap up some things. I can move to the office if you wanted the space to chill out?”
He shrugs and tells me I could go where I want.
I wanted to be out of the way, and not home. So I move to the office. The same office where weeks ago I’d teetered on the edge of a fatal decision and now was faced with the possibility of that decision made for me.
I slump in the seat and take a moment to just decompress. A headache creeps around my eyes and I just feel lost and hurt and alone.
When I break the laptop open again I move like a slug, scraping the barrel of effort and coming up with nil.
“Uh y/n?” Harry’s head pops into the door a while later.
“Yeah?” I blink up at him, still in slug mode.
He stares at me a second, “Do you have plans tonight? You could…join me in doing nothing?”
When was the last time I did nothing? I couldn’t remember. And it sounded like a distraction—not a good one, but one that helped me avoid home for longer.
“Sure?” I respond.
Harry blinks. “Oh. Brilliant. Finish what you’re doing if you’d like or you can join me now. Oh. Could you also order us some pizza or something that’s greasy and bad for us?”
I liked the direction of this. I feel my sluggish feeling slide away. “I can do that.”
“Good. Great. This is going to be a good night.”
He moves away as he talks and his last sentence is shouted from down the hall. I smile, relieved to do something like this.
I consider texting Gray, but decide against it. He left last night without a word, making me worried and today there’s been radio silence. I wasn’t in the mood to take the high road.
I do as Harry asks. Meanwhile Harry had put on some peppier music and brought out a six-pack from the fridge. His head is buried in the pantry rummaging through.
“What do you need?” I come up behind him.
“Oh,” he pops out. “Looking for some sweets. I’m sure I have some somewhere.”
“Oh yeah!” I close the doors he’s looking in and open the top cabinet. His eyes light up when he spots the options. “Food’s on its way by the way.”
He rubs his hands and starts pulling things off the pantry. It’s a different energy than any before, he’s not picking on me or ordering me around. He’s just inviting me to be on the ins with him. My instinct is to stay quiet and see where it goes but I shake it off.
“Are we just playing with beer tonight or is wine on the menu?” I ask. I hated the taste of beer.
“It could?” He unloads the pile in his arms onto the island and starts rummaging through the wines. “How about this one?”
A white. I take it from him and head for some glasses.
We end up making a buffet for ourselves on the coffee table and when the pizza comes we settle in, chatting occasionally about the things around us.
“So what does doing nothing involve?” I ask when we’re situated on the couch. Harry’s left a few feet of space between us which is very appreciated. I pull my feet up. “Because I have to say it’s been a while and I don’t know how to do nothing.”
He laughs, throwing his head back. I find myself grinning in response.
“Touché mon amie.”
“Okay I actually got that,” I nod.
“Do you speak french?” He asks as he opens the wine and pours us both a glass, mine’s a lot more full than his.
“No but I spent a month in Paris when I was in uni,” I savour the sour flavours of the wine as it coats my mouth and settles me down. “So I learned the bare minimum. Now all I can say is bonjour, ca beigne? And also un verre du vin s’il vous plait?”
“So you cut right to the chase—hey are you alright? A glass of wine thanks. Now leave me alone.”
We laugh and I hold up my glass, “I was hoping you’d get the hint. Why is mine so full anyway?”
“I’m just drinking some so you don’t have to drink it alone. Then I’m gonna crack on with the beer.”
“Oh!” There he had to go and be thoughtful again. “Forget it, I will happily drink the bottle. Drink whatever you want.”
“Yeah?” He leans forward to put his glass down.
I lean over and pour his measly amount into mine. “There, you’ve done the sharing part.”
“So y/n,” he asks after we’ve grabbed our respective snacks of choice. “Can I ask why you were listening to all those ballads before I came in?”
“I need to get a bit more drunk before I do that,” I down some more wine, already feeling the buzz of it. Obviously this was not the cheap wine I generally had.
“Alright we’ll get you there,” he promises. His eyes flicker from his phone to me and back to his phone. “Uhh could I show you something?”
“Like what?”
“We’re releasing the MV for one of my songs a week before I go on tour right.”
“Right,” I name the single that’s been thrown around countless times this week.
“I got back the deck for what it’ll look like. I’m excited can I show it to you?”
It’s endearing, in a way, how eager he is to show it. His cheeks even have spots of pink.
“Uh yeah! Let’s see it!”
“Cool,” he grins. He turns on the TV and casts whatever video is on his phone to the screen. He gives me some background on how it was setting up a whole storyline and how they’ve already started filming some of the scenes.
“The shooting starts the week after this one right?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in Scotland for a few days. You’re joining me right?”
“Yes! I’m excited to see all the action myself.” I had signed up for the 4-day trip with zero hesitation. As someone who’s always been making up stories and concepts to most music I listened to, getting to see the bts for an MV was a dream come true.
“Really?” He asks.
“Yeah, it’s real excitement I promise.”
“You’re interested in it?”
“Yeah! I love music videos, it creates a whole new experience for a song we’ve probably listened to on repeat. It’s cool!”
“So this is y/n really enthusiastic,” he leans back in the cushions to get me in full. “Now I really know you couldn’t give a rat’s arse about tour.”
“Stop saying that!” I laugh. “I was just stressed. I am excited about all of it okay?”
“So you say,” with a final glance he presses play and I’m entranced as the narration takes us through the plan.
“Umm all I can say is wow.” I turn to him when it’s done. My wine glass had been emptied and my brain had been itched with the most beautiful location and storytelling I’ve seen in a while. “That’s like a mini movie.”
“That’s what I said!” He exclaims. “It’s going to blow everything out of the water.”
“Look at us, doing nothing.” I realize we’d turned around and talked about work.
“Bollocks we’re no good at this.” Harry slides a hand down his face and I laugh at the dramatics. “Let me refill you at least.”
I happily oblige.
We talk about the mv some more, and move onto the tour. Harry asks me about the concerts I’ve been to and we get the kind of excited when you’re tipsy once we find out we were both at a Coldplay concert four years ago in London.
“That would’ve been before the success so I would have been just another bloke to you,” he notes.
“Yeah, imagine we crossed paths then? That would be crazy.”
“If we did, we might still be doing this tonight, just as mates,” he points to between us. “Or you would have fallen in love with me and I would have sacrificed my music to raise our kids.”
“What!?” It’s so absurdly ridiculous that I nearly snort my wine. “Where did that comes from!?”
“Admit it,” he puffs out his chest. “That would have happened. And I’d be so committed-“
“Well you’re assuming that in a 4 year time-span we would get to the point of having kids. So firstly no, secondly who said you had to sacrifice your career?”
“I-“ he stops mid-sentence, looking into the distance.
“Exactly!” I shout. “You’ve got nothing. You’ve just made up a story that makes you sounds good and noble!”
“Fine,” he settles down. “Fine! We never meet and you end up with your Duran bloke and I end up a musician.”
“Is that all I’m reduced to?” I raise my brow. “Who I’m with?”
“No!” He leans between us to pat my leg. It tingles. “No I didn’t mean it like that. You’ll do great things. I just mean the person you end up with isn’t superstar Harry Styles.”
I roll my eyes, “I need more wine if I’m gonna be subjected to any more of this bullshit.”
“Bullshit?!”
“Mhm,” I pop a gummy into my mouth and ignore the look of shock on his face.
“Fine. Then tell me about your bullshit,” he raises his can. “What’s happening to make you so ferocious this morning.”
Oh god. I hold up a finger and shimmy forward for some more wine. I’d drank 2/3 of the bottle and I was definitely tipsy. Maybe I’ll just sip this one.
“Fine. If you want to hear it.”
“I do.”
“I got into a fight with Gray.”
He raises a brow, I continue.
“He’s upset with me and complaining that I work a lot and that he feels like I’m his flatmate!”
“Flatmate with benefits.”
“Shut up!” I groan. “Not the point.”
“Sorry!” He holds his hands up.
“I don’t think he realizes how much of my head is just Gray like, I’m always thinking about him, about what I could do for him and say to him just to make sure he feels seen and reassured and loved! You know I’ve asked you for half-days on Saturdays when you don’t have a lot going on-“
“Mhm,” he nods along.
“I’m like, making sure I’m being a good partner. And apparently he’s been upset and not saying anything.”
“The old silent on the home front.”
“Yes!” I nearly drip wine as I pump my hand. “Yes, on the home front he’s bloody broody and quiet. I knew something was on his mind but like always he’s tight lipped. Even when I asked him a week ago he said he’s just been working a lot. What a liar!”
I complain about how it felt to be iced out of my partner’s emotions and having to guess all the time.
“Then I find out he’s been talking to all our friends to get advice.” Harry raises his brows in judgement and leans back into the sofa, and the small gesture makes me feel so validated. I didn’t realize how much I needed a third-party to just listen to my side of things. Until now, I’d literally not had anyone to talk to about this especially since I avoided talking about work with Gray. I get misty eyed.
“And when we’re talking he’s like so-and-so said this as if I want to know. And!” Now I was on a roll. I put my glass down in fear of spilling it on the pristine sofa and get on my knees to emphasize my frustration. “And the girl he quoted? Get this, I met her—Rebecca—at a job I did like a year ago? And we got along fabulously and I invited her to this party we threw right because she was new to the city and all that. She met my other friends and she fit in so well they invited her the next event. I got her into the group and now she’s talking shit about me with my fiancé behind my back!”
“She’s probably got a thing for your man,” Harry suggests.
“Oh she definitely does!” I’m animated as I continue. “She so does! I’ve caught her making eyes at him before, and laughing a lot whenever he makes a joke. I even mentioned it to him once but he said he didn’t notice.”
“He probably didn’t,” Harry shrugs.
“I know, the male species is a wonder. You get big flirts like you and then otherwise they’re completely oblivious.”
“I’ll have you know when I was a teen, a girl literally gave me a valentine cupcake and I just thought—well I knew she liked to bake, so I thought she just had extras. I didn’t understand why she didn’t speak to me the rest of the year.”
“No way,” I laugh—a lot because the wine was definitely sloshing around in my head, but also I couldn’t imagine Harry being that aloof. “I guess it comes with the ego territory. Were you less of a jerk as a kid?”
His jaw drops. “You just called me a jerk right now. To my face.”
“I did,” I say with glee. I stand to get the full picture of an offended Harry. “And I don’t regret it. So? Were you nicer as a kid?”
“No I’m not answering until you take that back.”
“What! You are a jerk…sometimes! I’m not taking it back!”
“You have to take it back otherwise I will cut you off on the wine.”
I take a step back and stumble as he speaks. Which makes me laugh more. “I think I should cut back. I am a hot mess.”
“At least you’re laughing,” Harry stands too. “It’s world’s different from this morning.”
Just like telling someone not to think of an elephant, I think of the elephant.
“Noo no don’t do that!” Harry rushes towards me and bends down to look me in the eye. “I liked it when you were smiling just now c’mon.”
“Well you reminded me why I was so upset-“
“Can’t stay grumpy, just give me another smile. One smile! Small teeny tiny smile—there it is!”
I can’t help it with his face in mine and the way he’s putting on a voice to get me to smile my face splits in a grin.
“You’re soooo annoying!” I push him but unstable and drunk I fall backwards.
I don’t know what happens next but I’m on the floor looking up into Harry’s concerned face.
“Y/n? Y/n!?”
“Yeah,” my head pounds as I try to make sense of where I am.
“Fuck,” I hear Harry say. He moves away and the overhead light attacks my eyes so I squeeze them shut.
I hear him, panicked, on the phone.
“No!” I try to call out. “M’fine! Don’t even worry-“
“Stay down Y/N,” he’s back by my side. I try to prove to him that I’m okay and sit up but a few inches off the ground and my head feels like it’s full of bees.
“So many bees,” I murmur as I go back down, now a pillow behind my head.
A few minutes later Harry’s helping me up gently. I tell him I wanted to throw up and he helps me to the toilet where I do. Gah. Why did I drink so much.
“I think I’ll head home now,” I hear myself saying to Harry like I was miles away.
“No,” his hands are around my shoulder and holding me upright as we walk out. The lift increases my nausea but I keep my eyes shut.
“I’m going home now,” I tell Harry when we get outside.
“No you’re getting checked out.”
“No!” I shove him away and nearly topple over myself. Why did he have to boss me around all the time? “Stop telling me what to do! My head hurts I’m going home!”
He tries to grab my hand but I yank it off. “Stop! Just stop!”
“Y/n,” Harry’s voice is low and comforting as he gets down in my ear. He smells nice too. “You passed out and you have a headache we have to get you checked out.”
“You’re no fun,” I cross my arms but follow him, only because my headache is so bad. As we get in the car I close my eyes shut as the lights assault them. Harry doesn’t let me sleep on the ride home even though his body is warm and steady beside me. I barely know where I am.
Harry’s POV:
I keep telling myself she would most likely be fine, just like the doctor reassured me but it’s hard not to beat myself up.
I shouldn’t have let her get that drunk, especially upset. I shouldn’t have gotten in her space and caused her to tumble back. I should have done something else.
The guilt is added to when I think of how I spoke to the doctor, demanding they do every scan and not to skip any. I hated who I became sometimes, when I pulled the famous card, but I thought it was necessary right now. Even y/n would give me a pass for using it.
I can’t stop replaying the thud as her head hit the hardwood floor, her eyelids fluttering as I rushed to her, her slack face when she lost consciousness for a moment.
It’s been hours since we came in. The doctor finally heads my way.
“Mr. Styles, your girlfriend is alright,” he holds up his hands before I’m fully standing.
I may have had to say she was my girlfriend after they wouldn’t let me have any say tonight…
“She’ll be alright, you did the right thing getting her here right away.”
“But?”
“No but,” he smiles. “Obviously it’s serious she has a moderate concussion but if she doesn’t exasperate any symptoms—takes it easy the next couple weeks, she’ll be right as rain. We can discharge her once the neurologist confirms. She’s just finishing with another patient right now-“
“She should stay overnight,” I cut him off. His cheeriness was starting to irritate me I felt like he wasn’t taking this seriously enough.
“Oh well,” he laughs but I know I’m irritating him right back. “She will be alright. I can provide you and her with a followup plan-“
“Doctor,” I say. “She’s staying overnight. If I need to rent a bed I’ll do that, tell me what I need to do, but she should stay under observation. Get the care she deserves.”
He pursues his lips, and I wait for him to agree.
“Yep,” he sighs. “I’ll tell the nurse. Just follow me and we can sort the details.”
We do that, I even take a selfie for the nurse’s daughter which grates on the doctor’s nerves even more. He leaves shortly after.
I get y/n’s room and walk there slowly, wondering how to apologize. Ever since December we’ve been playing a game of tennis with words and tonight I felt both of us relax onto the same note. Then this.
She’s sleeping when I get to her. My watch says 1am. She looks peaceful and it hurts even more.
The truth was despite acting like I didn’t, I did like Y/N but she was complicated, and the more I tried to untangle her web the more sticky things became for both of us. I didn’t want to make more mistakes than I have in the past so I’d kept my distance. Even if it hurt both of us.
Tonight was good though. Until it wasn’t. This was why I shouldn’t blur lines. You would think I’d have learned that by now.
I step by her bed, hesitating. Someone has wiped the remains of her makeup off and she looks so much younger. Like a sleeping cherub. My heart gives a squeeze.
I push back a strand of her hair, my hand wanting to do something. I settle for taking her hand in mine, it’s not the first time I’ve held it but like it always does, a flood of warmth rushes through me.
I never understood Victorian romances until her; just touching her hand got my blood pumping.
With a stroke of my thumb over her knuckles, she stirs. I freeze.
Her eyes flicker open, “Hey?”
My voice disappears. There’s too much that I want to say and nothing I’m allowed to say. Maybe a sorry. I open my mouth but she squeezes my hand. I forgot I was still holding hers.
“So much for doing nothing huh?” She cracks a smile and it breaks the marble I’d become encased in. I laugh and collapse onto the sliver of the bed.
“We should never do nothing again.”
“Nope,” she smiles, closing her eyes again.
“Y/N I’m really sorry for tonight. I feel awful-“
Her mouth parts. She was asleep.
I want to sit here with her until she wakes again, until the doctors kick us out. Something about seeing her so vulnerable here makes me want to confess the thing that’s been lodged in my chest for a long time.
I release her hand and move away from the bed. This was dangerous. Maybe I could wait in the waiting room until she’s released. Then take her home.
Something vibrates. It’s not my phone, and then I notice the purse I’d brought with us. Y/N’s.
I peek inside for the phone and her fiancé’s face takes up the screen. He looks younger. And then I remember, it’s like stepping out of the fog this night had put me in and into reality.
I pick up.
“Y/N it’s nearly 2 in the morning just tell me you’re alright? You haven’t been answering your texts I-“
“Hi,” I clear my throat and the line goes dead silent. I decide to continue. “Hey uh this is Harry. Styles. Uhm, don’t panic or anything because she is okay but she’s in hospital and-“
“What?” He comes back with a boom. “Why is she there what happened? Which hospital?”
I tell him which one, explain she bumped her head and I had to take her here. That the doctors said she would recover and be herself again soon. He simply swears and tells me he’d be there soon.
This was Y/N’s life. This was the right thing to do. Still, I stay in the room with my head in my hands and think about the whole evening again and again.
“Just tell me the bloody room…I don’t care about the time…”
The voice travels through as doors open and close in the hall and I look out. Grayson. Like a pitbull. I can see him through the rectangular window demanding to see Y/N.
I open the swinging doors and his nostrils flare as he spots me.
“Why the hell is he allowed in and not me?” He continues his tirade. “Does hospital policy not matter when it comes to the rich and famous now? I want to see her doctor and-“
The nurse turns to me, annoyed but before she can ask the question the doctor is out.
“What’s all this? Do you know the time sir, please follow me and we can talk-“
“I don’t want to fucking follow you. I want him gone and I want to see my fiancee.”
Looks are exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, finally landing on me. I imagine what they’re thinking—just another homewrecking famous rockstar, do we tell the fiancé or act cool?
“He should be able to see her,” I say in an even tone. I can feel the eyes on me, especially the laser beams from Gray.
“I thought-“
“Okay. Visitor pass him and let him in,” the doctor cuts his nurse off as she stares at me. Maybe her daughter wouldn’t get that photo tonight after all, and instead be told to pick better role models. It doesn’t matter to me. Not tonight.
I watch Gray get sorted, watch him walk down and to Y/N’s room. To his fiancée’s room.
I wonder how he feels, fighting with her last night just for y/n to end up here tonight. I wonder if that’s why he was so vocal tonight—the guilt.
But I suspected he was the kind of man that called himself easy-going and only got this raucous when another man was threatening his public image. It was pretty clear the hospital staff thought we had some pseudo-relationship arrangement. I don’t think Duran was daft enough to miss that.
Plus, I’d been the one to bring her here not him.
With a big sigh I take my phone out to call a taxi. It was my turn to go home.
I text Y/N from the car, tell her to rest over the weekend and let me know how she feels Monday morning. She could take the whole week off if she wanted but I also knew her and knew she would try to come back asap.
I try to piece back the marble armour I wore before tonight, it’s ill-fitting and hurts to get on but I do it anyway. This was why I couldn’t be the person Y/N wanted me to be; I tried to mix parts of my life together and it would only end with shite.
Y/N’s POV:
I don’t know who this man in front of me was. Or actually, I hadn’t seen him a long time.
I’d been discharged from the hospital on Saturday morning with odd looks all around. Maybe because Harry brought me in? And ever since, Grayson has been doting on me. Doting.
“Did you want anything specific?” Gray stands at the foot of the bed, asking me what he should make me for breakfast. The last time he made me a special breakfast was…last summer?
“I wouldn’t say no to pancakes?” I reply. “I looove your chocolate chip pancakes.”
“I’ll get it started,” he walks over to kiss my temple and leaves.
The weirdest part is that I feel weird; I don’t know why but Gray doting on me like this made me feel claustrophobic and…weird!
I look out the window to the overcast sky. Same, I think. At least for a Sunday, it felt fitting.
I pick up my phone and check the last response from Harry. Since I got discharged he’d been texting me to see how I was feeling. I think he was feeling guilty even though I told him it wasn’t his fault.
I tried not to drink when I was upset because back in uni it led to some shitty situations but the other night I’d overstepped my rule and done this anyway. And paid for it. I should have known better. And after the absolute misery of yesterday’s aftermath—the migraine and the vertigo and the completely lack of appetite, I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. Ever.
Today I feel a lot better. I still have a headache and I’m looking forward to breakfast with my painkiller, but the light doesn’t hurt as much and the nausea only comes back when I do too much.
You: I’ll be back in no time. Feeling better
Harry: I want you to feel the best so I’m banning you from working until Wed. And that’s conditional on you feeling better
Y: Doc said I can resume a lowkey version of my life after 48hrs
H: I didn’t like that doc. take my advice instead
Y: when did you get your md
H: same time you got yours
Y: I have an md?
H: being stubborn 101
Y: your jokes are a lot better when you text
H: cuz you’re not distracted by my face
Y: ooookay I’m no longer giving you the platform byeee
He was sassy, apparently. I never got this side of him before.
I read through the convo again and smile. But it hits me that it sounded like flirting. And that would be incredibly inappropriate. So I shove my phone in my bedside drawer and inch out of bed to join Gray.
We spend the day talking about a lot, but not about what we should talk about. Which, with the way I was feeling, was fine by me. At the same time it felt like we were both politely playing a role neither of us could put our hearts into. It felt shitty.
Gray has a session around 4 and I crawl back into bed, putting on a romcom I’ve watched a million times for comfort.
My body feels heavy and it has nothing to do with the concussion. The last couple days and my current relationship with Gray casts a shadow over my thoughts. I felt like making any decision was like wading through quicksand and running away just sounded better.
I rub my temples, hoping like a genie’s lamp, I could get an omnipotent spirit cast out and grant me easy wishes. I’d wish for things to go back to normal, for my heart not to be such a wretched thing. For clarity.
I pick up my phone and scroll to the one person I had run away from and have missed since. I didn’t talk to her very often but I thought I could use her no-nonsense approach.
My mom frets when I tell her what had happened. She goes quiet as I tell her I’d gotten drunk to forget about the troubles in my relationship.
“Relationships go through a lot of phases. It’s like going through those cave tunnels all made of rock and you gotta squeeze really tight sometimes just to fit through and continue on.”
“That is an amazing comparison mom, but I don’t know if this is one of those times. It feels like Gray’s already given up on us.”
“Well it’s been a long time he’s waited.”
“But he never said. He never talked to me.”
She sighs. “Your Grayson sure is a contemplative son of a bitch isn’t he?”
I laugh a little too hard and feel a pulse in my head. “I know. But then today he was so dang sweet—since I got home. He was so overprotective. And he made me breakfast mom and it made me realize I haven’t had that Gray in a long time.”
She’s silent on the other end. She knew there was more. How did I ever think, as a teen, my mom didn’t understand me? I think I just never understood her.
“But it felt weird.” I continue. “I feel horrible for saying it but I felt weird!”
“Was there heart?” She asks gently.
There wasn’t.
That’s what it was. And my heart weeps. All those actions without feelings.
“Have you thought about coming home?” Mom asks when the silence stretches. She always asked and I was the worst daughter in the world for never going back. The last time was when I graduated, for 2 weeks in which my family drove me crazy and I had been crazy in love with Gray and eager to get back to him.
“Maybe,” I close my eyes and slide down into bed.
“Your brother’s new girlfriend reminds me of that friend you had where she came on our camping trip and cried the whole time? What was her name?”
“Deanna? Mom I stayed friends with her all through high school! She was just very anxious.”
“I know! His girlfriend’s always darting about, jumping at tiny things. Reminds me of her.”
“Well Jace better be treating her right.”
“He does,” mom’s voice raises. “You should see them together. It’s cute but they’re still teenaged loves so I try not to break his bubble too much.”
Mom had definitely relaxed a lot since I was a teen. She had practically chased my first boyfriend away.
“Remember your first boyfriend?” She asks and I shout how I was remembering that too. We end up talking about old memories, and I feel a little more known and a little less lonely when I hang up.
Gray and I order takeout and I try to watch a movie with him but the strain on my eyes gets too much. I tell him I was going to bed and insist that he stays and finishes. I didn’t feel like watching him play boyfriend.
I’m eager to get back to work, for next week when I can go to Scotland for the MV. The eagerness comes from guilt but I carry both as I fall asleep.
***
I feel like a kid at Disneyland. Or maybe a Disney adult. Either way, I’m blown away getting to watch this MV come to life.
It’s long hours, a lot of waiting, and some shouting. But everything else is magic.
I came back to work last Thursday and other than an ear-splitting headache on the flight and a low-grade one when I stared at a screen too long, I was on my way to normal. When I got back to work Harry kept making excuses for me so I could work from the office but I refused to be treated differently and eventually he relented.
“It’s so freaking cold!” I jump up and down beside Harry by the cliffside. He’s just wrapped up a scene and the crew was taking a look at the footage to see if they needed anything more in this spot.
“Why don’t you put on more layers? Do you want an extra coat the crew might have-“
“No!” I continue wriggling around. “I’m heading back to the car in a few. This is an amazing view.”
“Isn’t it,” Harry turns to the sea that’s churning away much like my own heart these days. It feels calming to see it physically somewhere else.
We stand in silence except for my occasional teeth chattering and stare out to the view.
“Have you seen more of it?” Harry motions to the cameras. “What do you think?”
On this trip I’ve been giving my honest opinion, and I know I’ve offended Harry at least once but I didn’t come all the way here for my dream experience only to stroke his ego.
I tell him my take. We talk about the overall storyline about belonging and sacrifice until we’re interrupted with two hands holding out hot teas.
“You both looked cold,” the woman says. She was another assistant on set and I’m not sure what to do being waited on as a PA myself.
“Oh, thank you!” I make sure she knows I appreciate it. “That’s…that’s super kind thanks!”
She throws us both a smile and I stare at my cup, the heat tingling on my cold fingertips.
“Friendship and belonging yeah,” Harry starts up again.
“Yeah but also I like how you—your character, whatever, knows when it’s time to leave for his better growth. Sacrifice with his friend and sacrifice with the only home he’s known. Plus that’s a comfortable outfit.”
I tap a button on Harry’s jumpsuit. He grins. “You can have it.”
“I would be drowning in that you’re a lot taller.”
“We can have it altered,” he says. A shiver runs through me at we. I blame it on the cold.
I sip the tea now that it’s not scalding and find it’s a lot cooler. The open air, I guess.
“So you really love all this,” Harry says. “You weren’t joking about that excitement.”
“No I told you!” I flash to the night we did “nothing” which feels long ago. “I have a vivid imagination when it comes to music and I spent any spare courses on film so now I can interpret the heck out of any song and music video like my life depends on it.”
“We should get you back there,” he motions to the crew. “Get you on board.”
“Would I get the little clipboard and clapper?”
“Yeah!”
“Goals,” I sigh.
Little did I know, by Saturday as we’re filming our final scene one of the crew members hands me the clapper. He tells me I’m supposed to cut the final scene. I stare at him, thinking I misheard.
The clapboard hangs between us. He shakes it a little and I take it. It’s heavier than I thought.
“Harry asked if you can cut for the final scene, see the man behind the camera? He’ll look to you and give you the nod. Then you step in front and just do the thing.”
“Oh…” I’m still staring at the thing in my hand. My palms feel sweaty like it’s going to crash to the ground and break in two but that thought gets me to hold it closer. “Thanks.”
“Yep,” the guy walks away and I stare at the scene being filmed. Slowly I walk closer to the cameraman and he glances at me, notices the clapper, and smiles holding up two fingers.
He whispers something to someone beside him and they change the lighting. Harry walks off “screen” and I try to catch his eye to show him what I had. We catch it briefly and he winks before walking back onto the screen.
Oh my god! My heart is racing as I hold it in my hands. I had to chill. Or I’m gonna make a mess of things. It’s just a clapperboard and you’re saying one word!
Two minutes. I manage to calm down enough and when I get the signal I step in front of the camera and, as I see it later on, with the biggest grin on my face I clap down and yell “cut!”
Harry lets out a whoop and the crew cheers as the filming wraps up. I’m sure my eyes are wide as saucers as I go to Harry. He puts an arm around me and pulls me in, laughing because I tell him my heart is racing and how does he do tours when just that made me shaky.
“It gets easier,” we walk now with his arm around my shoulder. “One day you’ll be behind the camera shouting at me to move places.”
“Oooh getting to boss you around and get paid for it?” I look up at him and my breath catches because he’s handsome at every bloody angle. “Sign me up.”
He let me go and gives me a few tsks. Then he gets his phone and tells me to pose with the clapper and I do it happily. The picture shows a grinning girl with pure delight on her face.
“I’ll put that as your contact photo right,” Harry says as he gets into a jacket. “And that way at least when you call me with bad news I get to see a smile beforehand.”
“Har har,” I roll my eyes but I don’t hate the idea.
A lot of the crew decide to go out for drinks and dinner and Harry passes but I decide to go. I’d met some friendly faces and I would miss working with them, miss the overall energy, when we got back to London.
As I fall asleep that night, full and content, I realize I hadn’t texted Gray all day. I wake to check my phone and see he’d sent a text a few hours ago.
Sorry I was out for lunch with the crew. Babe it was sooooo fun I can’t wait to show you pictures when I get home.
I read the rest of his message asking how I was. I tell him my headache was gone and ask him about his week but I’ve fallen asleep before he can respond.
***
The morning I have to leave for tour I wake up way too early. Too much nervous excitement. I’d already brushed and checked my luggage was packed before crawling back into bed waiting for Gray to wake.
I watch him sleep, my eyes following the familiar contours of his face. We’d been making an effort at rebuilding the relationship since we agreed we at least had to give it a try after I got home from Scotland a month ago. On one hand it feels like starting a new relationship and also breathing easier because we were both on the same page. On the other, we’d finally started planning the wedding!
I would miss him, nearly 3 weeks away which is the longest we’ve been apart since we got together. Then I’d be home for 2 weeks, and away for the last week before Harry finishes with a couple shows in London. It was going to be epic and crazy as exhausted as I’ve been.
I huddle close to Gray and he stirs slightly but I kiss his neck to wake him.
“Hey,” he mumbles in his sleep.
“Morning,” I press another kiss to his face.
“What time?” He moves his head to kiss me back.
“Hmmm half past 7?”
He grumbles about it being so early but it stops shortly after with both of my legs on either side of him and my hair curtaining our faces.
“M’gonna miss your snooty face,” I say with another kiss. He finally opens his eyes and his hand comes up to hold my chin.
“I’ll be the one here missing you.”
“I’ll call every chance I get.”
“You’ll get to see so many new cities,” he says.
“Barely but I’m gonna try to make the most of it,” the travel schedule was hectic but I know there were a couple slower days I could use to explore cities. If I wasn’t completely exhausted.
“You’ll have a lot of fun,” he pushes my hair behind my ear.
“Remember Josie’s coming this weekend to stay the week.” Gray’s sister had taken the opportunity of a semi-empty flat to stay here while she studied for mid-terms. I had encouraged it so Gray felt less lonely.
“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he huffs.
“Just behave,” I warn him.
“I don’t know how,” he smiles, rolling us around so he’s on top and showing me what misbehaving means. I don’t mind it a bit.
After a quick shower together we head out to the airport, Harry offered to pick me up on his way but I wanted to make sure I spent as much time with Gray as possible so he doesn’t feel like I was leaving him like before. I hoped he knew, at least, the effort I was making.
***
Stockholm, Hamburg, Oslo, and Copenhagen in one week. It was exhilarating and exhausting and hectic and so fulfilling.
I had seen Harry at small shows before but on the big stage he has a presence with a capital P. It’s amazing watching him perform and dance and be charming all over. He could be cheeky yet command the crowd at the same time. And despite all these sides he’s never inauthentic.
For the first time I’m able to take somewhat of a backseat. He already had his manager, tour manager, stylist, and tour chef with him to manage most aspects I would regularly. I became sort of an extra hand when I wasn’t having sit-down hours. That’s what I called the times I was sitting on the laptop sorting out future timelines for Harry’s life (and my wedding).
But I loved it. I’d pick a cafe close to our hotel and spend a few hours working. I’d call Gray during these times and if he was free we’d catch up on all I saw and he’d share stories with me until Josie crashed the conversation with stories of her own.
My eye bags require more concealer than usual and my body begs for nutrition but otherwise I love every second.
I’m back from my sit-down hours and get off the lift. Harry and his team were placed in the same hotel just down the hall from each other. As I approach my own door one of Harry’s band mates rushes out of his door looking stressed.
“He’s in a mood,” she huffs. “Don’t go in there.”
“Did something happen?” I ask.
She shrugs, “he gets this way. Usually at the start of tour I don’t know why. Kinda snappy just…give him space.”
I do as she says but the next morning as we wait to board our early flight to Paris he continues to be a dick to everyone.
“Maybe take a nap on the flight Haz,” one of his bandmates suggest. “We’re all bloody tired don’t be such a grump.”
“I don’t need a bloody nap stop treating me like a child.”
“What to do when you act like one.”
“You know what-“
“Woah hey c’mon.”
I startle at the commotion, I was starting to doze off but Harry rushing out of his seat and someone else stepping between him and Mitch wakes me entirely.
“Let’s stand there get some space.” Niji recommends.
Everyone follows the group away and it’s Harry, myself, and my bag left.
He glances at me, “Don’t you start too.”
“I wasn’t…”
“I could see it in your face.”
“What the hell? I was just napping I don’t even know what’s going on except that you really are being a dick.”
“There you go!” He points. “I knew you wanted to say it.”
“Guess I’m joining the others…” I pick up my bag and walk to everyone else. They’re all venting their frustrations for Harry and comfort me that he was an asshole to everyone.
It gets worse on the flight when our pilot announces we couldn’t land in Paris.
“What’s going on?” I ask our hostess.
“The weather, we apologize for the inconvenience folks but there is high winds and a lot of fog so it’s not safe to fly.”
“I have a show tonight,” Harry stands and starts to advance on the poor woman. “I need to be in Paris before 4 where are we landing?!”
“Sir we’ll be landing in the Lille airport. This is good because we’re only a few hours from the city-“
“For fuck’s sake,” Harry runs his hand through his hair.
“I understand,” the woman looks back at me and I nod, letting her know I got it.
“Harry we’ll only be delayed by a few hours-“
“I don’t have time for a few hours. We need to set up and run tests in Paris! We were supposed to be there yesterday but somebody booked the wrong shit!”
It was true, his tour manager had booked us for Monday morning rather than Sunday morning but at the time it hadn’t been a big deal since the show was 7 on Monday and we got an extra day to relax. Now it made things more stressful.
“Fuck this,” Harry mutters. The other members on the plane roll their eyes and put on headphones, sighing and looking out the window. It was obvious to everyone but Harry that this was just a minor setback.
I decide to be the idiot who enters the lion’s cage. Harry sits in the back of the plane jiggling his leg and trying to connect his phone to service.
“Are you trying to call Morgan?” I ask.
“No I’m trying to call the pope.”
“He might be sleeping.”
He looks up at me and if I wasn’t aware of how stressed he was I would laugh. Confused doesn’t even cover his expression.
“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to get to the show-“
“We have like a five hour wiggle room it’s just a minor-“
“I can’t perform thrown off like this!”
“There’s no reason to be thrown off!” I try to keep my volume contained but I can feel eyes on my back.
“I don’t need you right now just go.”
“So I guess the one week rule is true.” I mutter.
“What’s that?” He asks with an i-dare-you expression.
“I said the one week rule of you being an asshole on tour, I guess that was true. I wish someone told me I would have skipped it.”
“Well you could have skipped the whole thing and nobody would notice.”
His comeback is muttered but cuts like a machete and I feel like the words were physically slung at me. I stand there stunned, my heart sinking as he continues to fiddle with his phone until the call connects.
The shock wears off quickly leaving me with the familiar heat of anger. This was how I reacted to Harry and his dickish ways. How dare he? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to treat me like this when he wanted? I clench my fist as his voice rises with Morgan.
But beneath the anger is a raw hurt, his words struck a nerve. The same one Gray had struck once. I was replaceable, and all the efforts I’ve put into my career were unimportant and unappreciated.
I snatch the phone from Harry, annoyed at hearing him talk at Morgan.
“Hey Morgan it’s Y/N, yeah it’s a minor inconvenience but if you can get a bus or something to the airport it should be…”
I look to the hostess and she flashes me two fingers and a shake of her hand.
“About 2 hours to get into the city.” I finish. I nod along to Morgan’s questions and repeat details back. “Yeah just text me on my phone, not Harry’s. We’ll sort this out.”
“Thank you y/n. I’m really glad you’re there today.”
The words are a feather on a pile of nails, it’s nice to hear but Harry’s cruel words still ring in my ear.
I hand the phone back to him, expecting a thank you or an apology, but he just takes it and slinks down in his seat.
“It’s her isn’t it?” Sarah gets up on her seat on her knees to look back at Harry. I pause as I walk up the aisle. Is was who?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry mutters with his eyes glued to his screen.
“It is,” someone else says.
“Who?” Claire asks.
“Don’t take his mood personally,” Sarah says to me. “Paris is a touchy city for him.”
“Do you guys ever shut up?” Harry asks.
“No that’s why we’re your crew,” Mitch responds.
“We understand,” Sarah continues. Who was she talking about!? “Just don’t take it out on us. It’s not nice.”
Harry doesn’t respond but I sense a deflating happening on his side. Sarah’s words had gotten through to him but they’d just made me super curious.
I get filled in as we wait at the airport for our bus—Morgan had saved the day.
I hear about Harry’s french lover and how he got his heart broken a couple years ago. How the last time they were in France he had disappeared for a day and they’re all sure he visited her. How he can’t go to Paris without getting in a mood, either because he doesn’t get to see her or he’s anxious about seeing her.
“That’s like a city-specific booty-call.”
“Kinda,” Sarah laughs. “But I think he grew really attached to her so it’s a bit—he’s coming back.”
Harry stomps back to where we are, a tray of coffee in his hands. His team accepts it without a word. The world’s most famous non-verbal apology.
I watch him wearily. I still wanted a verbal apology from him, was that crazy? What he said was deeply hurtful. And hearing about his French lover makes me feel a way that I don’t like so I shut it out. I stick to the anger instead. It was easier.
He starts to warm up as we board the bus, cracking jokes with his band. I pick a seat near the front and stay there with my headphones. Aside from answering Morgan’s texts I pretend to be asleep. Eventually I do.
Someone flicks my hat, “C’mon sleepyhead! We’re in the city of love.”
“Wha?” There’s a crick in my neck and I feel rusty. But Harry’s right, we’d landed in Paris. He hovers above my seat with a jovial smile but it dies the longer I don’t return it. Serves him right. He doesn’t get to be cruel and wipe it away with coffee and a joke.
He gets the hint and boards off. I grab the last of the bags and join the group in the lobby where Morgan greets Harry like his long lost son.
“The trials aren’t over just yet,” he cringes. “I don’t know why Paris keeps fucking with me but we’re booked tight for rooms.”
“What does that mean?” Harry asks.
“Uhm well,” Morgan clears his throat. “The hotel overbooked. We have 3 rooms between the 8 of us. Luckily I have a mate who lives in town so I’ll crash at his. The rest of you need to share.”
“Morgan you’re fucking with me,” someone groans.
“No I’m sorry. I booked 5 with an en-suite but they screwed up. They’re refunding us half—I fought for that at least. I can use that to put others in another hotel if you’d like but so far I’ve only managed one room with two doubles.”
“Claire and I can share,” Sarah says.
“Good, Mitch you good with the boys?”
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
“Uh y/n…would you like me to book you an extra room somewhere? I don’t want you to be far from the team-“
“She’ll stay with me.” Harry says. “I’m performing tonight and then we’re moving to Amsterdam tomorrow afternoon so…”
I squirm a little as all eyes fall to me. Cool. Casual. “Sure.”
“Sorted! Let’s get these bags up and out of the way. I’ll have a car waiting down here in a half hour so you can all freshen up and meet me again.”
We trudge along and get off on our respective floors.
“The truth is,” Harry says as we scan ourselves into our room. “I’m probably not even gonna use the bed for the night so it’s all yours.”
“Oh,” I look around the room. It’s got a french touch and a lush queen in the middle. I could deal with not having to share it. I’m sure my fiancé back home would be happier too. Even though I want to ask why I don’t. “Okay.”
We settle our things in silence and a part of me wants to break it and start talking about the ride and Paris but I’m still not over his earlier behaviour so I continue giving the bare minimum. He doesn’t seem to care.
We head off for tests and I end up falling asleep in one of the booths. The tiredness was really creeping up. I could sleep through all the noise the band was making.
A particularly loud screeching from feedback wakes me up. I look down to the group, everyone’s mostly broken up while tech crew tapes down some wires and connects equipment. Harry sits on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet and texting away at his phone. He’s different from the grump this morning. He’s lighter.
Charlie catches me looking and waves, I wave back. There’s a pit in my stomach that grows heavier as the day passes into night.
Paris is not the loudest but super engaged. Everyone has some reference to Harry adorned on their clothing or their face and I can tell Harry has a special connection to the group.
“And finally,” Harry says into the mic. “This is a special song for my French friends. Tonight has been a blessing and I want to merci beaucoup for showing up!”
The crowd cheers as the intro to his song comes on. I listen to the lyrics for the first time since hearing the song last year and connect the dots to what Sarah said earlier. Maybe this was the girl. Maybe this was why he wasn’t sleeping at the hotel tonight.
As we’re leaving the venue and I’m going through a mental list of everything we could have forgotten, we spot a familiar face around back.
“Riley?” Mitch spots him first. “Is that you mate?”
“Hey,” Riley like, Harry’s old assistant Riley is standing with a couple other people who are having a smoke. He squashes his and greets the band who apparently still feel fondly when it comes to him. He looks the exact same but my feelings towards him are curdled after knowing what he’s like and how he left us high and dry.
That leaves Harry and I still hovering by the entrance alone, staring at the reunion by the time Riley comes up to us. I guess the band knew his friends because they get to chatting. I remember then, Riley ditched Harry to work for one of his friends. Must be a small world.
“Why the long face you two, c’mon still not holding a grudge are we?”
“Riley,” Harry addresses him. I stay silent, watching Riley from where I stand behind Harry.
“Nice to see Y/N’s still sticking around. How are you liking tour life?”
“Did you come to the show?” I find my voice.
“Yeah,” he nods all friendly like this was casual and he’s done nothing wrong ever. “I might be biased because I worked for the guy but Harry Styles is one of my top artist. And I’m in Paris until the Fall so why not come support him.”
“Well,” Harry says in the same deadpan voice. “Thanks for the support Riley.”
Riley glances over at him, smug. He knows he’s annoying Harry. So maybe I wasn’t the only one who got enjoyment out of doing that.
“Oh c’mon you’re still upset with me jumping ship? It’s been months! Y/N we’re cool right-“
Riley moves to walk past Harry and to me but Harry side-steps to stay in his way. I look at Harry. So does Riley, confusion sliding away to amusement.
“Oh I see,” he steps back, arms crossed. “Harry you sly dog you did it again.”
“We’re going now,” Harry says. “Try not to show up at any other shows.”
Harry tried to leave and I take the few steps to follow but Riley starts again.
“So y/n you fell for his trick too? I’m disappointed I thought you were immune.” Riley continues. “How’d he get you to the bedroom? Lots of booze? Or did you not even make it to the bedroom? Was it being treated like shit that did it for you?”
“What?” Now in the middle, I look between the two, wondering how this conversation took such a bizarre turn.
“You have some obsession with me Riley?” Harry steps back towards us. “Because you sure enjoy making up stories in your head with me starring in it. Don’t rope y/n into them either.”
“Not all stories,” Riley stays smug. “Some of them I’ve seen with my own eyes.”
They had to be talking about the last PA. The story Riley told me. Which means he thinks I…
“You really should watch what you talk about,” Harry reminds him.
Riley turns his attention to me, “Y/N I thought I warned you good enough. But I guess you put out as easily as the last one.”
“Riley whatever drama you’re trying to-“
“Mate,” Harry gets in Riley’s face so he can’t even look at me. I go quiet. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I get security to kick you out permanently.”
“Being the knight in shining armour doesn’t really suit you Haz,” Riley says. With one final judgemental look thrown my way he walks away. I have to lay a hand on Harry’s arm just to keep him from lunging at him but as soon as my hand makes contact he brushes me away.
This whole interaction was ego-bruising. “Why did he think-“
“Ignore him.” Harry cuts me off, his back still to me. His band, having watched the final scene unfold, now awkwardly shuffles back to us. “You okay?”
“Yeah but why-“
“Good.”
He cuts me off from asking anything and I don’t get to push because the group tries to defuse the situation by changing the subject. That includes the girls inviting me for drinks at their favourite parisian place. Harry disappears and so do those answers.
I try to poke whether the girls at dinner knew anything about his last PA but they barely met her. So I’m forced to eat oysters when they find out I’d never had them and the subject changes quickly to new and other things.
“So oysters thumbs up or down?” I’m asked as I slowly eat another.
“Weird texture…ehh?” I hover my thumb in the middle.
“Well too bad your partner—what’s his name again?” They ask. I tell her. “Ooh good name. Too bad Grayson isn’t here to cash in on all these oysters.”
They laugh and I think I’m not drunk enough to laugh as much with.
It’s the wee hours of the morning by the time we get back to the hotel. I crash alone as soon as my head hits the pillow.
***
After three weeks of tour I’m ecstatic to get back home. I wanted to sleep in the same bed for more than a day, I wanted a shower with even temperature, and I wanted a home-cooked meal.
And I wanted Gray.
I even catch an earlier flight—the night before rather than the next morning. I build up surprising Gray so much that I end up being the one who’s surprised when I come home to an empty flat.
I double check I’d set my phone back to the right time but it’s nearly 11. He must be out with friends, not a client.
I want to call him but still hold the idea of a surprise so I take a shower instead, put a load of laundry in, and make myself a sandwich. I crawl into bed at 1, still no Gray.
I end up tapping through our friends’ stories and find him in one. At least I knew where he was. But 2/3 photos I can find of him, Bex is standing too close for comfort.
I can tell by the photos there’s nothing going on. From his end. The most contact they have is his arm around her shoulder but for some reason all of this makes me mad. I’d broken it down to him that he couldn’t talk with people who had a thing for him because they would only give biased advice. But he didn’t listen. He said I was reading into it too much. And here she was, gazing up at him in every damn photo.
I hate that I wasn’t even home for a couple hours and already found something to annoy me.
I must have fallen asleep shortly after because I wake to poking on my side.
“Y/n? Is that really you? Y/n? Y/n?”
Gray.
“Hi,” I turn in bed. “I’m home early.”
“Shit!” He stands and sways back slightly. Wow, he was pissed. I hadn’t seen him this inebriated in a hot minute. “You didn’t say!”
“I know I-“
“I thought I imagined you.”
“Nope all here,” I grit my teeth. Why was I annoyed at my boyfriend for having a life, I scold myself.
Why is he so drunk and is this a new thing or did he only get this way cuz I’m not around?
“You finally came back to me,” he slurs. He smells like a brewery as he climbs into bed and I wish I could force a shower on him but I get swept up in his arms. “Hey you were right by the way.”
“About?”
“About.”
“Gray! What was I right about?”
“I’m getting to it! You. Were right. About Bex.”
“H-how do you know?” Weird coincidence. Or not?
“Sheshe she tried to kiss me!” He falls back laughing in bed. “I said nooo cuz I have a fiancée. Y/N. Oops. She was maaad.”
My heart drops. I knew it. That little bitch! And she had to go and try to kiss my man when he’s drunk! I officially didn’t like her. And the story itself adds to my irritation.
“Wow. Crazy. I’m tired as hell so I’m going to bed.”
I turn and leave my back to Gray. I didn’t want to see him this drunk, this chill about someone I warned him about trying to kiss him.
He splays on the bed where he is, draping an arm over me and pretty soon I hear his even breathing. That annoys me too, that he could fall asleep so quick. His arm is a weight over my body and I feel like I’m sinking into the bed and out of view.
***
It’s like Grayson and I have forgotten how to live with each other.
What starts out as minor annoyances turn into bickering pretty quickly. Our 1 bedroom flat begins to feel cramped and I desperately try to cling onto the idea of us because I can’t fathom us fizzling out like this but my fingernails are raw from scraping threads.
Work is the easiest it’s been in a while. With no set working hours I just spend a few hours everyday doing admin and running errands. Otherwise, unless somebody calls me I’m free.
I thought it would be great. So much free time with Gray, we could continue planning the wedding and catch up again. But he busies himself with work, and when we go on dates he doesn’t make much of an effort to talk. It’s like getting to know him all over again except he’s a broodier version of himself. It makes me mad and I end up picking fights.
I book brunch with some of the girls on the last Saturday I’m home, thinking it might help to have space from Gray and see other people. I thought everything would be fine. And it is, on a surface level—they treat me perfectly normal.
Except the only time they gave me space to talk about myself went something like this,
“So Y/N how are you? Busy touring how is that?”
“Oh yeah it was great! Really taxing but fulfilling too. I went to so many cities I haven’t visited even though I’ve been in London for like 7 years? Copenhagen was one of my fave-
“Ooh. Yeah I really want to visit Copenhagen this summer.”
“Oh I love Copenhagen…”
And I was officially asked out of sharing my own life. The rest of brunch was me reacting to everyone else’s stories and having the subject change quickly after I brought up anything about myself. When I mentioned Gray casually, I could feel the judgement. It’s like they were waiting on me to complain about him so they could pounce. It’s a weird and tiring energy.
As we all say our goodbyes I manage to catch Rebecca alone.
“Hey Bex,” I stop her on the edge of the group. “I know we haven’t talked much lately but I just want to say I don’t appreciate the moves you’re making on Gray.”
She raises a brow, “moves?”
“He told me you tried to kiss him. Those kinds of moves.”
Her face pinches. “Well someone has to make some.”
“Excuse me?” She tries to walk away but I rush to step in front of her.
“It’s no secret you and Gray are on the road to a breakup,” she has the audacity to look judgey in that moment and I want to slap the look off her face.
“What the fuck do you know about me and Gray? Back. Off.”
“Hey what’s going on?” One of our other friends drifts towards us and I notice they’re all looking our way.
“Just a friendly chat,” I say with sarcasm you can’t miss. At the same time Bex responds, “Y/n’s being delusional.”
I was going to get physical, I step back towards her but our friends get between us. I think they knew uni me, and knew I wasn’t afraid of confrontation.
“What the fuck y/n?” I was so tired of the look on their faces, like I was crazy.
“She tried to kiss Gray!” I reveal. “Last week! I’m just telling her to back off and I have every right to!”
It’s news to them. They turn to Bex who’s fidgeting with her sweater as a flush creeps up her neck.
“I-I he did! He tried to kiss me!”
I snort, “I don’t have time for your bullshit Rebecca. I’ve gotta go.”
“Oh yeah we all know you don’t have time y/n, you’re so busy these days.”
“Bex!” Someone scolds her.
“Somebody better teach her hand to keep her hand over her mouth because I will get through all of you if it means getting to her. You know you guys don’t know shit about my life. And you don’t even care to these days! Just because Gray told his sob side you guys treat me like-like shit!”
“That’s not true-“
“It is! You don’t even know my side! And I don’t care to explain because you lot are supposed to be our friends, not the judge and jury of my relationship.”
They stare blankly at me and nobody denies it so I continue: “I try so hard to stay involved in your lives knowing I can’t make it to half of our parties, I’m always messaging you guys and trying to stay on top of your socials to know what’s going on in your lives. I feel like I make all the effort and I’m just made the pariah.”
It feels good getting it off my chest. It feels amazing. I feel like I’m breathing an actual lungful of air now.
“We’re sorry if we made you feel that way.” I look at who’s said this. One of my oldest friends from uni. I scoff.
“You’re sorry if you made me feel that way?! I just said you did!”
“Sorry,” she says, quieter.
“Y’know it’s…it’s disappointing. I thought, when we became best friends first year of uni nothing could shake the bond we had. Apparently a man you met 3 years ago who vented to you about your best friend was just the thing.” All their faces are small and nobody makes eye contact with me. “Anyway, I do have to go. I have an appointment. Let’s not do this again.”
I walk away, proud of myself for saying what I had to and getting it off my chest. For sticking up for myself.
But the farther away I get, the more the adrenaline crashes through me and I end up walking onto the tube on shaky legs and collapsing in my seat. The reality of what’s happened falls into my lap and I see a bunch of burned bridges.
I spend a couple extra hours out after my appointment. I’m not going anywhere in particular, I let my feet carry me through the city as my mind continues to whir.
Harry texts me, asking me to stop by his place before I fly back for tour tomorrow evening. Apparently the concierge needed all his mail picked up and he needed a few of the items. It annoys me that he waited last minute to ask.
When I get home at 4, Gray’s vacuuming the flat. He stops it when I come in.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“How was brunch?”
It’s the way he asks. I know he knows. Which means a group chat exists with our friends and him without me. It feels like another betrayal. Who keeps their partner out deliberately? Who opens up their relationship like a hockey net, open for anyone to take shots at?
“Why’re you asking?” I feel another fight coming.
“I can’t ask you how brunch went?”
“Did you hear something? Let me guess, did Bex snitch?”
“No, chill out why would Bex snitch?”
“Grayson,” I look at him deadpan. “Don’t bullshit me. If you have any respect for me, which I know now is not a lot, don’t bullshit me.”
He sighs but doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t lie and doesn’t tell the truth.
“So?” I ask. “Is there like a group chat or something?”
“Let’s just drop it-“
“No! I’m not dropping this when you brought it up. So is there? Did you disrespect me in front of all our friends by talking shit, and then do it even more by allowing them to ice me out in a group chat you knew I wasn’t part of?”
He doesn’t respond. My temper flares.
“The hurtful part isn’t even not being part of the chat, it’s that you didn’t tell me.”
It makes sense now. I was always initiating birthday messages there or privately, thinking everyone was forgetting to wish each other. Now I know I was public fool number one keeping that convo alive when they were probably all wishing each other elsewhere. God. I was an idiot!
“Look I’m sorry y/n, after you stopped showing up to things they just made a new one so they don’t bother you.”
“Oh is that why? Because that was active up until a few months ago. So according to the timeline it was probably when you fucked up and talked shit about me to all our friends and they decided I was a bitch and they should all cancel me! Well I hope you’re happy Gray!”
“I’m not! I’m sorry I didn’t realize-“
“Stop!” I slam my hand into the wall and it hurts harder than I anticipated but I bite back the pain. “Just admit it! You want to paint me as the bad guy so fucking hard, and I am in some ways I know I’m far from perfect Gray! But instead of talking to me like normal fucking people do, you just iced me out and then isolated me from the only friends I’ve ever made in this stupid fucking city!”
I can’t help the tears now even though I don’t want to cry. I want to rage and scream and throw things about but the hurt is bigger and it bubbles over the pot and sears my heart.
I leave my shopping bags where I’ve dropped them and walk back out of the door before he can come up with a response. I couldn’t stand to look at his face. He’s betrayed me over and over and the whole time I was desperately trying to show him I hadn’t changed and I loved him.
I walk the 40 minute to Harry’s and the early evening air helps me learn how to breathe again. I take in gulps of it and try not to cry. I didn’t want to waste tears on Gray and my stupid friends. I didn’t want to do any of this! I just wanted to press pause on my whole damn life and take a nap.
Outside his building I pull out my phone and make sure I don’t look crazed. My hand is killing me and I ignore the bruising blooming fresh.
The concierge spots me just as I enter, and we make small talk about Harry on tour and his last few shows that would happen in London. I make a note to mention to Harry to send him tickets—apparently his niece listened to him.
He helps me load a cart with Harry’s mail and take it upstairs.
It had been over a month since I’d been in here and it’s weird that it feels comforting. Or maybe that was just after two weeks of feeling like a stranger at home.
Harry’s words on the plane echo back to me. Not that I was appreciated here either.
If there was ever a time to go back home to the States, it would be now. But that felt like running away. I had to sort my life out here before I made any rash decisions.
With a sigh I dump the paper onto the coffee table. After sorting what looked like bills from letters from miscellaneous I spot the two envelopes Harry wanted and put it to the side. I open the boxes next and locate his custom orthopaedic inserts he asked me to grab too.
I take the extra mail to my office to sort out. In the familiar closed quarters where I’d spent too much time in the last year rolling through a hundred phases, my feelings edge out of me. I try to wipe the tears and continue on but I end up pathetically sat over on the chair crying until I can barely breathe.
It’s pathetic because this is the first space I’ve felt I had the space to cry. And it was where I worked. Where, apparently, I wouldn’t even be missed.
New tears. Less breaths.
“Get it the fuck together,” I say between gasps. “That’s. Enough.”
Through my own self-talk I manage to calm down enough to finish the work. It’s half past 8 by the time I get back to the main living area. I get water to rehydrate myself and stay sitting on the couch staring into space for another ten minutes. I don’t think I had any more tears to cry. Just a rock in place of my heart and another bigger one attached to my ankle.
“Okay,” I finally get the courage to head home.
The end isn’t big and explosive. It’s a simple statement: I think we both know what needs to be done now.
I don’t fight him this time. I have no fight left in me. I just nod.
“I’ll sleep on the couch and still drop you off tomorrow,” he reassures me.
“Just sleep in bed,” I couldn’t even muster enough energy for expression. My flat tone is how I felt. “You don’t fit on the couch. And I’ll get myself to the airport.”
“No I’ll take you. I’ve already made the arrangements-“
“You don’t have to worry about me anymore Gray,” I say. He looks crestfallen and it irks me that he does. I didn’t want him to be sad, it was ridiculous but it was.
“Well I’ll take you anyway.” He says then turns back to the TV.
I wash the day off and make sure everything is packed for my early flight tomorrow. As I lay in bed alone I realize this might be the last time I ever sleep here. Like this. I would have to move all my shit out. Oh god, the wedding. I’d have to cancel my dress shopping dates and the cake testing, the invites we were still designing.
We’d only told our friends it was going to be a winter wedding, I’m glad we never gave them a date. Nobody had marked their calendars. Nothing about us would been permanent.
I look down at the simple ring on my hand. Everything but that.
I keep it on.
I’m still awake when Gray comes to bed but I pretend to sleep. My mind can’t stop making lists to answer: what now.
I’m in a fugue state all night and the only thing that clears the fog is the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds in the morning. I hadn’t slept a wink.
Quiet, so I don’t wake Gray, I get up and dressed. I order a taxi and try not to linger on the hurt of doing this alone. Of Gray waking up to an empty bed.
The flight to Madrid is a couple hours and I miraculously nap through it. Everyone is happy to see me when I get back, especially when I present them with snacks they’d all said they missed from home while we were on tour. With them in hand, I’m an angel in their eyes.
I hand Harry his mail and he stops me. His eyes don’t stop examining my face.
“What happened to your hand?” He asks.
I’d picked up a bandaging kit and ice pack at the airport and with the help of Youtube, wrapped it up. It had started to bruise even worse but I couldn’t be arsed to deal with it even though it hurt. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t fix.
“I accidentally got it caught in a door,” I lie easily. I had practiced. “It’s nothing.”
“Did you get it checked?”
“No.”
“Make sure you do, tonight’s show.”
“Sure. It’s really nothing though.”
“You sure?” He asks. His gaze is unnerving.
“Mhm,” I nod.
He’s silent, eyes scanning my face. Right as I decide I couldn’t take the scrutiny he asks, “Why were you crying last night?”
I stare, unsure what kind of trick he was playing.
“Sorry.” He laughs to himself. “I have one of those uh, motion sensor cameras in the entryway. I turn it on while I’m away so it sends like, automatic clips if there’s movement. I saw you come in and leave.”
“Oh.” Shit. Think fast. Think fast. “I uhm, got into it with some friends I had a meal with. Y’know…they were being a bit icy cuz of what they’ve heard. I’m over it though.”
“Yeah?” His eyes flicker down to my hand.
“Yeah.” I hold his green eyes for a moment, to reassure him I’m okay. I don’t know why he cares, maybe because I looked like a right mess last night as I left. How embarrassing. But I do my best acting job ever.
Satisfied, he lets me go. I return to the group asking for updates and any stories they wanted to share. Before long I’m laughing along and creeping out of my depressed mood. But something heavier still lingers.
***
TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77
#writingsfromhome#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#fic#harry styles angst#harry styles series#dos and donts#harry styles au#like I’m actually annoyed I had to split this up#because it’s supposed to get more interesting#ugh tumblr and its word limit…#musician!harry#well excited to finish the final part tho
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