Miles Away Pt. ii
Miles Away.
Pt. ii
The flight was just as you envisioned it, long and a bit rocky – very tiring. You had plans to reevaluate your life, but your tiredness got the best of you. Next thing you know, your mother was waiting for you at the airport.
"y/n! My baby!" She embarrassingly screamed out and ran towards you for a hug.
"oh hi mumma." You muffled into her shoulder because you were smothered by her hug.
"Mumma? What are you, turning into one of those brits now?" She laughed.
"Oh please, you wish. As if I didn't hear from you that you loved their accents enough."
"Speaking of British accents," she tried to slyly transition the topic and you knew exactly what was coming next, "your little friend, Harry? Why couldn't he come with you?"
"He literally lives in Manchester, in what world do you expect him to just drop that and come to the states." You hissed back a little.
"Oh no need to be so pissy," she said and swatted at you as a way to gesture calm down," I was just saying, he seems to have taken a liking to you. For someone who doesn't have many guy friends, it's just new! Let me pretend to have dreams for you, besides he's very cute."
She tells you as if you didn't know. Truth be told, you never though Harry was a bad looking guy. He was very handsome – his skin was so smooth it almost seemed unreal, it had a golden glow to it. He was built perfectly, his shoulders were wide but when he sat down he had the ability to look so small. It was insane how he could go from extremely intimidating to incredibly soft in a matter of seconds. You knew he was attractive but, you never found yourself attracted to him. At first. Ever since you faced the reality of leaving him, your mind began to change its perspective in a lot of ways. You weren't quite sure of it, but you found yourself smiling at the cute little things he had done more and more as the date of your departure approached. Your head started paying attention to things you didn't pay attention to before, like it was a way to hold onto him, as if it would make leaving easier.
It made it worse. And confused you a lot more.
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Being home for the remainder of summer was very dull, you began looking for jobs, internships, or anything that could get you out of the house until university started back up at the end of August. As boring as the time was, it somehow went by very quick. Maybe it was because Harry called you at least once a day, and almost every night the two of you would video chat, lying in bed, updating each other on important highlights of your days. The clock times changed a bit since he was six hours ahead of you, but you worked with what you could. You would lay in bed around seven pm to talk to him and it would usually be one am where he was. It was what you looked forward to most, especially because seeing this Harry was your favorite. He always had sweatshirts on – and if he didn't then he had no shirt on at all, and his hair was messy, his voice was usually raspy because it was early in the morning for him and he looked extremely soft.
You began to find yourself thinking about him a lot more, more than you did when the two of you were in Manchester together, and though you didn't want to admit it, some sort of a crush seemed to be developing. Whenever you wrote in the brown leatherback notebook Harry got you for Christmas, your words were subconsciously always about him.
You were the one I compared everyone else to,
Your hair wrapped around my heart and your fingers begged me to stay.
But not in the same way I secretly begged you.
Yep. About him.
You'd think after the reality of things, I'd stop being hopelessly a fool for you – but the farther I get from you loving me, the more I wish you were here to.
Still about him.
He became your muse, which was insane to you. And it was also why you hesitated to admit your crush was actually a crush. What if you were only using his absence as a muse? A way to write and fill your void with words? Were you just romanticizing your distance apart or did it actually mean more to you than you knew? You continued to write about him, whether you knew it or not, and by early November you finally convinced yourself that your crush was indeed a crush.
Your birthday was that month and you got an unsuspecting call from Harry to check your mail, rather eagerly. When you opened your front door there was a package sitting by your welcome mat and once you opened it, it was filled with; a bottle of Tom Ford's Tobacco Vanille, a matching leather bracelet with him, and a folded-up note on what looked like papyrus paper. The whole time you were on the phone with him, he insisted you read that letter. So you did,
y/n,
How are you ma cherie? I say that as if we don't talk every single day. Still, hearing it in person always makes it seem much more personable. Anyways, Happy Birthday, my dear best friend! I love you so much. I hope this year treats you with less misfortune, better grades, and a little bit more me. I miss picking out your outfits for you over here! My mother says hello, and said she'd send you your favorite cake if she was able to – and also that you're welcome over here anytime. I hope you liked the gifts, I know you said not to send anything but it's your birthday how could I not? At this point, we have to have matching friendships bracelets, or our friendship just isn't real. I picked these up when I went on holiday in Paris. I know you really want to go, so I figured this was the next best thing. And it's about time I sent you this cologne, I can't risk you forgetting what I smell like. Spray it on that sweatshirt of mine, then it'll be like I'm still there with you. There is one last thing I'd like to say. Another part of your gift, if you choose to look at it that way. It's buried under the wrapping in the bottom of the box. If I've timed everything correctly, I'll be on the phone with you as you're reading this and will be able to see your reaction. So, I'll just quiet down and let you see for yourself.
Happy Birthday.
I love you!
H .xx
A bit worried over what stunt he was trying to pull you sat the letter down and dug to the bottom of the box. You found a standard sized envelope addressed to a Mr. Harry Styles and it was from your university. When you opened the letter, you read the words:
We would like to congratulate you, Mr. Harry Styles, on your acceptance to the semester-long exchange program at Boston University effective this Spring.
Your face immediately froze from excitement. Your heart definitely began to beat out of your chest and your face started to get red, but not from embarrassment. It was just from being happy.
"Are you kidding me!" You screamed at him over the phone. "You're coming here!" You couldn't contain your excitement.
"D' ya know how hard this was keepin a surprise?!" He sighed with relief.
"I can't believe you, sneaky." You scolded.
"I'll see ya a bit after Christmas, I figured I'd get there early to settle in n all." You glared at him when he said that, as if he was missing the most important part. "An ta see you of course!" He knew you were waiting to hear that.
"That’s what I thought. Oh! I can't wait. Thank you so much for everything. I love you!"
"I love you too y/n." He said before the two of you hung up.
It was then that you knew you truly did love him. In more ways than one. The pieces started to fit together again, and you couldn't stop smiling all day. Every other gift or "happy birthday" didn't phase you at all because you couldn't get the thought of your best friend being in your home town for six months out of your mind. You knew you loved him. And you loved him so much, but this just created another obstacle. You were never one to assume, so assuming he felt the same about you was out of the question. What would happen if you would just assume and you were wrong? It would entail a world of hurt and destroy the friendship you valued so much. You would rather love in silence than not have him at all, and if it was the most painful thing you'd do, then so be it. And until Harry arrived on December 30th, you couldn't help but ignore all of that because you were wearing rose colored glasses and were too ready for him to be in your arms again. You weren't really worried about your friendship changing now that you've admitted your crush – because you weren't going to tell him. It was going to be the same as it always was, or so you had thought.
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December 30th came, rather quickly now that you had it to look forward too, and you woke up the same as you did every day, except this day was different. You finally got to pick up Harry from the airport. His flight got in rather early for your liking, it was nine AM EST, which was earlier than you woke up most days, but for Harry you made an exception. You threw on your Manchester sweatshirt underneath your insulated winter coat and headed out the door. Harry must really be something special if he's having you brace the cold at nine AM during your winter break for him. He was something special though. And you were too happy about it to feel the cold air whistle past your ear when you walked to your car.
The car ride there was filled with silent air, even though there was the faint sound of your winter playlist playing on volume seven through your radio. You passed scenery that you hadn't seen since the day you came home around six months ago. The trees alongside the highway haven't changed much, they were just bare from the cold weather. A strong smell of warm bread seeped through your air vent as you passed the local bakery which didn't exactly have a name for itself except for "Bakery Café" which was plastered across the front of it. It was more of a family owned business, being ran from the comfort of your home but you hadn't been there in years. When you were younger, your father would pick you up a baguette, every Friday on his way home from work as a celebration for the week being over. The book store on Upton Road only had a few people in it, but to be fair, it was quite early. Your mind was blank yet, remembering so many things, all at once. The airport was only a 45-minute drive away, but between being at Uni and not leaving your house that often when you were at home, meant you hadn't seen some of these places in a while.
When you arrived at the airport, you pulled up to the pick-up entrance in hopes of being able to park and stand out of your car as an homage to every overly similar and cheesy romance movie that you and Harry watched together when you were bored, on rainy nights back in Manchester. Somehow, he saw you before you saw him because before you could even put your old 2007 Jeep Liberty in park, he was jogging to your car, standing in front of it tempting you to run him over as a joke. You got so close to him that he had to jump away with a shocked expression on his face.
" 'ey! Sheesh you aven't seen meh in six months en ya tryin ta kill me before I say hi!" His scream rose in volume, as you rolled your window down smiling like child on Christmas.
You couldn't stop laughing, "Well don't tempt me there!"
Your put your car in park and eagerly got out as you ran around the front to hug him. It was like nothing changed, but in some sense, everything did. He still smelled the same, he had a bit of airplane mixed in with his cologne but nonetheless, he was still your favorite scent in the world. His hair had grown out a bit more, not too much, but the little curl on the side of his forehead almost took the shape of an "O" now. His eyes were bloodshot and piercing green, they only looked a bit tired. It always amazed you how his skin and hands were softer than yours, and even after a nine-hour flight he was still glistening.
"Oi, how'ya been love?" He said, with his cheeks pinched together from hugging you so hard.
"Terrible, so terrible. Thank god you have to go through it now too." You jokingly said in a pathetic tone. Harry was used to your dark humor or remarks which were always very sarcastic but even though you had a joking tone you were serious, things did feel terrible up until this point.
"Alrighty we've hugged, the fake movie scene is ova' can we please get in the car, I'm bout one toe away from losin ma whole foot."
The two of you packed up your car with his tiny bags and headed back to your house. You passed everything you saw on your way there, but this time it was with Harry. It was so surreal, he was in your hometown, you were driving him to your house, and soon he was going to see the way you lived your life at home. The drive to him took a lifetime, but on the way back, you were home before you knew it. You pulled up to your family's apartment complex, it was the first building out of seven. Your apartment was the one right next to the leasing office. It was on a quaint backroad and was rundown a bit - you and your family weren't ones to live in luxury. You, your parents, and younger brothers always found yourselves moving from place to place every few years because you struggled with finances. It wasn't something you liked to talk about much, in fear that people would feel bad, or guilty, or sorry. It was just that your family had first moved from your childhood townhouse into an actual home, and when that didn't work out you moved again, and then again, and once more before you landed in the apartment you had now – each "home" seemingly got smaller in size.
But, you were home, and you managed to drag Harry there this time. He was staying the night in your room, as you sleep on the couch, before he could move into his dorm tomorrow. You had some time to yourself before your family came home, and god you know that your mother would have a ball day as soon as she saw Harry's face in person. You had to brace yourself... and him.
"So, this is where ya grew up, huh?" He said with his eyes wandering outside of the car in front of your building.
"Only for the past four years. We moved a lot."
"Really," he said with a puzzled look on his face, as if he was hurt you hadn't given him this detail on your life before, "I never knew that."
"It never really came up, and it wasn't that important anyways. It was just how I lived." Those words sounded so casual coming from your mouth. You didn't really know why he cared that he hadn't known such a small detail about your life.
"Yea, you're right, just an intrestin' lil fact."
You parked right in front of the door and helped him carry his bags in, even though he didn't have much to carry. Harry wasn't a man who carried a lot with him. He was very good at living minimally, or travelling minimally, at least. To be fair, most of his "presentable" attire consisted of skinny jeans, plain or graphic t-shirts and head scarves. Your favorite shirt of his was a white tee that had outlines of skinny feminine hands holding cigarettes, on it.
When you walked through your front door you were greeted by a very excited Finny, your six-year old terrier-mixed pup. Harry fell to his knees to give her the attention she begged for and repeatedly called her babydoll. It was quite precious. You led him to your room and places his bags at your door.
"So, you'll be sleeping in my bed, I cleaned the sheets and everything so, don't worry." You informed him.
"Oh sweet, a sleepover with a girl? Your mom is so cool!" He said, impersonating a young child in grade school, as a way to be funny. You just scoffed.
"Oh, stop it."
"So... you won't be in here." He said with a sly smile coming across his face.
You knew he was joking, there was no way that he wasn't, but the thought of him being serious about that made your bones shiver. You wouldn't know what to do if he genuinely was serious - you hadn't prepared yourself for that case because you knew the chances of it were so slim. But you imagined it in your head, always. Both of you sat down on your bed, which was quite large for just you. The bed was a gift your grandmother gave you a few years ago. You decorated it with a large, white duvet, and fitted sheets that were a silky shade of light blue. It was covered in pillows and your favorite throw blanket, a little fuzzy one with coffee cups all over it. Harry was in your bed. Not romantically. But, he was in your bed. And the two of you got to lay there, and catch up, even though that's exactly what you did every time he called you. He was there in person this time, and it gave your heart a sigh of relief just to know he would be there to comfort you this upcoming semester.
That night it almost pained you that Harry was laying in your bed and you were not there lying next to him. But while you lay restless, your mind went over every word you talked about tonight before the two of you decided you were tired and went to bed. Harry couldn't believe that you lost your virginity while the two of you were away, and even though you called him hungover the next morning, somehow this topic came up in the handful of things you discussed.
"I still can't believe it. I mean... I believe it, but like tha shock of it, is what I mean."
"I just wanted to get it over with! You knew that! It wasn’t that great... but it happened. I'm not that mad about it." You said back.
"Well, yeah. It was about time for yeh! Maybe it's why yer less of a bitch, no more sexual tension in ya." He laughed, waiting to get a rise out of you, "All I'm saying is i can't believe it took you 19 years!"
"I just didn't feel like it before!" You had told him this a thousand times.
"I know that! I just can't believe no one else 'ad made it known they wan-ed ta shag ya before then. I mean, you aren't ugly. All us at Manchester knew that. Ya didn't follow the pretty girl story though, ya were a bit of a werido, as were we, but you were pretty. You could've easily gotten any lad on campus."
Any one [lad] except for the one you wanted most.
"You just didn't" He had continued, after your thoughts interrupted you listening.
"Yeah, I suppose." You had said back, staring at your hands playing with your bed sheets because you were at a loss for words since you couldn’t tell him that he was the one you wanted to get, knowing he would retract his previous statements and probably book the next flight out if you told him.
It was conversations like that which made your stomach fill with butterflies and your heart begin to beat fast. It wasn't confusing because your head knew he was saying these things as a friend, but your heart made it confusing because you wished he meant it in another way. It was only controversial because you imagined what it would be like if he secretly had a crush on you too. You hated that word crush (unless it was Little Big Town's "Girl Crush"), especially describing a best friend. It wasn't a crush, it was love, but he didn't love you the same way you loved him. So, by definition, it was in fact a crush. He was so close to your heart that it didn’t feel that way. These were the conversations you fell asleep to at night, dreaming about. Dreaming about what they meant, what they could mean, and what would happen if they did mean something. It was hopeless in every meaning of the word.
It was funny, the entirety of what you talked about was regarding you having sex with someone, but him saying you could get any guy in Manchester you wanted was a big compliment from him. He wasn't very direct with compliments, at least to you. It wasn't in a rude way, but you knew him well enough to know those words were a compliment from him, to you. It was like him asking you to proofread his papers because he'd tell you that you were the best writer he knows, even though he was an English major and could re-write anything you wrote, ten times better.
Tomorrow was move-in day for the two of you. It wasn't together considering since he was an exchange student, and he had to live on campus. The university was about an hour from your house, at most, and you were moving into a new apartment by the school. It was in the same area as Harry's room but not directly on top of him. In your mind, you were hoping it was going to be like a little glimpse of Manchester, over here in the states. But there wasn't much telling with what was going to happen between the two of you. What were you going to do now that your best friend, who felt like the love of your life, was with you again... now that you know you love him?
