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Beautiful Enough

Part II - Blue

Read Beautiful Enough here | ~5.5k words

From Me/Warnings: filler, hate this part personally. Also I hate Microsoft Word (iykyk) Need to get the plot going but there's some cute things I think. good luck 🍀

Summary: She nearly dropped the cards in her hands because she was so stunned by the pretty sound of Harry’s laughter, she didn’t think she would ever recover. Was she already in love with him?

It was ridiculous; he was lovesick, completely, as his heart skipped a beat. “What’s your favorite board game?”

Harry noted immediately that she lived in a small place. Cozy, for sure, but physically small. It was a bit different than Harry’s house and that was fine. He wasn’t judging at all. In fact, there was so much warmth in her little place Harry wanted to ask her to decorate his so a fraction of the warmth would exist. His place was missing something. Maybe it was the plants that lined her window behind the kitchen sink. The greenery made it feel more lived in. Harry’s house felt like he had just moved in despite living there for a few years. Or maybe it was her wall art. Harry knew they were prints, probably gotten at a retail store or a thrift shop, but it made it feel more like a home and less of the box that he called a house. Her bookshelf was stuffed with books, of course. But in front of the outward facing spines also had picture frames of friends, family, coworkers even, and a few other small nick-knacks. All of which made Harry think her space was better served than his. It was hard to make a larger place home when there was so much emptiness. (Which was not a metaphor he was looking to dissect at the moment.)

But she took up space. Practically demanded it—as she should, Harry thought. He’d only known her for four and a half minutes and was already enthralled with the space she took up and he wanted it to be all hers. “Do you want something to drink?”

“M’good, Beautiful, thank you, brought some tea,” he said holding a cup in his hand. “This where we’re studying?” He had an impish smile that she was sure got all the girls flustered in college. Although to be fair, it made her a bit flustered too. And she was pretty removed from college.

Niall only gave Harry a few details about her shitty ex-boyfriend. She didn’t want him spilling all her secrets to Harry. It was a surefire way for him to run for the hills before he even got to know her. It was going to take some learning to get used to her, she thought. If she could really help it, she didn’t want to have to tell him much about her ex at all.

What she hadn’t expected was how much hotter Harry was going to be in person. It made her feel guilty. She was with Spencer for a really long time and it had arguably been a short time before she was dating a new guy. That was going to be hard to explain away.

But Spencer was with Dani, right? How was it any different? But she knew it was different because Spencer was Spencer, and she was just her. It was completely different and while Spencer would be praised and looked at like he was God’s gift to women, she would be looked at with sidelong glances that made her feel like she was in the wrong. This was going to be difficult for a million reasons.

But maybe the biggest reason was she was going to fall hopelessly for his pretty face and body.

And if he called her beautiful again, she might lose it.

Harry was still inspecting the room. How small it was and the like. Embarrassment crept across her body making her feel warm all over. Harry made a lot of money. She knew that from Niall’s insider info and from her own… background check… that she performed after chatting with Niall in the privacy of her bed with a glass of wine.

It was completely unfair he was still so hot. She spoke out loud as she examined pictures, admiring the one from his college days but falling even harder for the more recent one. Saying things like Oh come, ON, when she passed a pretty photo of him holding a bouquet of flowers along with his mother and sister around Mother’s Day.

Then she felt guilty because Harry didn’t deserve to have her ogling him (even if he didn’t know) because he couldn’t reciprocate. Her social media was bare bones. The only pictures she was tagged in were group ones, or a corporate headshot that she used for all her profile pictures. She was usually just crowded into a group photo as one of many. It took her hours to put together her Tinder profile: cropping photos and coming up with quippy little chat lines to help her figure out her dilemma of Elijah’s wedding.

While she tried not to stare at Harry’s butt, he was looking at her bookshelf and the little objects that weren’t books sitting in front of the titles like they were guarding the spines. “What’s this?” He asked. He didn’t pick it up, but she wanted to say he could if he wanted. It was a little sailboat, white and blue. Netting across half the mast to look like a sail lined with seashells.

“Mia made it,” she said quietly. “My bookshelf is one of my favorite things, so I put things that people I love made or got for me on it.”

It was a display of people she loved. That was precisely what Harry’s house was missing. “S’sweet,” he mumbled and hoped that she would tell him all about the little items one day. That maybe in the time he was going to know her something of him would end up on the shelf.

Harry turned to the sofa, sitting at the opposite end of her. He settled his cup of tea on the coffee table near the top corner from where he was. Far away from the index cards that were in neat piles. “S’colorful,” he commented. There had to be at least a hundred cards.

She took a deep breath. “I tried to organize them by topic.”

“S’very thorough,” he smiled. He pulled out his own stack of cards from his jacket. They were white and not all were written on—she could see the stiffness of some of the cards still stuck together since they weren’t used yet. “Niall mentioned y’were making me flashcards. I made y’some. But I wanted t’see what y’had on your cards before I blabbed too much. I know we’re trying t’make this authentic,” he placed perhaps a third of the number of her total cards on the table at the end of her piles completing the set of red, yellow, green, blue, and pink.

She swallowed. “I’m so sorry.”

He tilted his head at her. “S’nothing t’apologize for,” he shrugged. “M’happy t’help,” he assured her.

“This is insane,” she reminded him. Like she was trying to talk him out of it. Harry wasn’t one to back down from a challenge and more importantly he wasn’t going to back out of helping out his friends. Because whether she wanted to be or not, Niall was his closest friend and ergo, he was going to be helping her too. Consider him her new best friend.

“M’not… clear on all the details…” he began. “Niall didn’t have many he could give me… But it sounds like s’not something y’would normally do. M’really not judging, Beautiful. Whatever this is and however it needs t’be done, m’happy t’help.”

There was distrust in her eyes. Like she didn’t fully believe that Harry was on board. Nor that he thought she was completely sane. “Okay…” she picked up the blue cards. “We’ll start here.”

“Blue is one of m’favorite colors,” he smiled and hoped he sounded encouraging.

“That’s good, because that’s a majority of these cards, favorites and whatnot. Blue is for basics,” she explained.

He snorted, barked out a bit of laughter that she felt her whole body fall so fucking hard for the sound. She wished she could record it. It would play all day long. It would be the perfect background noise, a sound machine to fall asleep too, and she thought that every radio station needed to hear it. It was a beautiful, delightful sound and his matching smile was so utterly devastating she didn’t know how she was going to make it out of these next few months alive without falling completely in love with him.

She nearly dropped the cards in her hands because she was so stunned by the pretty sound of Harry’s laughter, she didn’t think she would ever recover. Was she already in love with him?

She’d read enough books about fake dating that said luck to not fall in love was not on her side. But she was determined not to bother him post wedding. It would be the last big event where she would be forced to smile and pretend that she was fine with her break-up.

Cousin birthday parties, anniversary parties, even any future family vow renewals would not require the same degree of pretending that was needed for her brother’s wedding. By the time the next big family event came around, her love life wouldn’t be so prominent on everyone’s mind. She and Spencer and their unbelievably quick-ending, long-length relationship wouldn’t be a thought any longer. She and Harry would just be a memory, a few stray candid pictures from Elijah’s wedding. Oh remember when I got my best friend’s friend to take me to your wedding? Remember how I quizzed him on my entire life with index cards?

Harry took the blue cards she nearly dropped from her. Their fingers brushed which made her heart skip a beat in a way that it shouldn’t have. She was with Spencer for a long time. Even though it was now brought to her attention that he was the worst, it felt wrong to feel any flicker of… attraction for another man. She did love him. He loved her at some point. She was sure (hoped). They did things together that she loved, that were part of her and her history.

But she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest. Harry was extremely kind to look at the blank side of her index cards so thoughtfully. As if this wasn’t a completely insane ask of an almost complete stranger.

The blank side of the card was a single word written in a curvy, loopy, neat way. It wasn’t overdone like she was calligraphist, but it wasn’t messy either like she was tired from writing. It was pretty. There was no other way to describe it. Dainty almost. He liked how her ‘O’ looped into the ‘R’ in the word color. She did it with other words too, but color seemed like a good as place as any to start. “Pink is your favorite color?” He asked.

She nodded. “It’s pretty.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is. Any particular shade?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Have you ever seen a pink cranberry?” Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a cranberry ever. He shook his head. With her phone she searched for a picture. "It’s light, a little more on the red side but somehow also white. I don’t know. I didn’t know how to describe it before because it’s hard to explain clearly. I just know when I see it.”

Harry thought cranberry-pink might be his new favorite color as well.

From there, he went through other favorite cards rapidly. Favorite food, favorite shows, favorite music, etc. Those were easy basics that would be easy to remember. He liked that she let him shuffle through her life. It had to be unnerving to put her entire life on a set of three-by-five index cards so that she could fake to her family that everything was fine.

When would they get to that section of her life? What color had she meticulously sectioned family into and what would she say about them?

Each card came with a little anecdote if he made a comment and so Harry tried (although it wasn’t very difficult) to find a comment for each card because he loved hearing her talk about herself. He got the impression she didn’t get to do it often. It gushed out of her so easily and he was a little too in love with her already to hear her stop talking.

One of the blue cards stated that she snored when she was sick or having a bad fit of allergies. (Also her allergies included a range of household things like dust and pollen but also, surprisingly, pineapple.) But the snoring was worse when she was younger.

When she was in middle school, she had braces for two years. During that time, there were no pictures of her smiling with her teeth. In fact, there was a holdover that sometimes she forgot to smile with teeth.

She loved board games, card games, and voting games like Cards Against Humanity. But she hadn’t played them in ages because she didn’t really have people in her life who enjoyed them as much as she did. “I love Scrabble,” Harry murmured quietly. He wanted to play with her as ridiculous, as that sounded. If she enjoyed something, he wanted to be part of it. That was the only insane part of this, wasn’t it? That Harry was falling so quickly and all they were doing was covering the basics? Or maybe that’s exactly how it was supposed to be. Wouldn’t their first real date have been covering blue cards whether they were physically in front of them or not?

He wished he took her on a real date. Wished he offered to play any and all board games with her right then. “I’m terrible at Scrabble but I’d love to play sometime,” she offered.

It was ridiculous; he was lovesick, completely, as his heart skipped a beat. “What’s your favorite board game?”

She thought for a second. “I loved Candyland when I was younger. Maybe Clue? I don’t know. I just love games in general, I think. They’re fun. They make me feel young.”

She was hardly old, but Harry liked her thought process. He smirked and flipped to the next card without looking at her. “We should play sometime,” he suggested.

Her chest ached with want. It wasn’t fair if Niall was right. If Harry was perfect for her, she was fucked.

*

Harry hated that Niall was right. It was just basics. Things he would have asked on a first date. But she was perfect. So fucking perfect it hurt. Like how was knowing that her favorite food so entrancing? It was a pasta dish she self-disciplined to making herself once a month because she was afraid she would probably eat it three times a week if she could and get too big for her clothes. The thought made him swoon.

It didn’t make sense, and maybe it didn’t have to make sense, but he was trying to retain a semblance of control over his emotions. How was he supposed to tell her that she was his soulmate when she just got out of a lengthy relationship and all he knew was that she snored when she was sick?

Why did he want to know what her snoring sounded like?

“You can paint?” He asked, reading the next card.

“No, not even a little,” she shook her head. “I enjoy painting. I’m terrible at it.”

He laughed. She was quite funny, and he wondered why Niall never mentioned that. Maybe he was doing him a favor because Harry’s soft spot for humor would just make him drool if he knew ahead of time. But she had him in stitches for a better part of the afternoon. He learned so much about her. Stuff that he wouldn’t even think to ask on a first date. Like for a very long time, she wanted to be a librarian (and also a fairy princess, like Tinkerbell.)

She had one boyfriend in middle school but didn’t elaborate much. “We’ll talk about relationships another day,” she shrugged. “He didn’t break my heart though.”

That made him happy. She deserved a good first boyfriend. She was too cute and sweet to not have that. Even her high school boyfriend didn’t break her heart for which Harry was retroactively grateful for—she didn’t deserve to have her heart broken ever. The pair simply fizzled out, a mutual agreement that was actually really mature given they were still all but kids.

But it was clear her most recent boyfriend really quite devastated her.

“I told you we’ll get into it more another time. But… I couldn’t get out of bed for a week straight,” she mumbled and looked at her hands. Harry noted her voice cracked and she was upset. But Harry thought part of her was upset she was so distraught and that made him feel worse than her actual breakup.

It sounded like her most recent ex was a prick. So, if he was stupid enough to lose someone who blushed the same color as her favorite color and broke her heart because he was an idiot, then he didn’t deserve her cries. Harry was quiet while she took a stabilizing breath like she might burst into tears. Harry hadn’t been in a years-and-years-long relationship. He couldn’t imagine the toll it took on her to be in it and then suddenly not be in it. On top of that, he didn’t know how she was baring her whole life to an almost stranger on flashcards and not sobbing openly.

Despite the clock showing that hours had passed since he showed up, Harry felt like it was minutes that they had sifted through the blue cards a few times over while she gently quizzed him on details and offering more anecdotes.

How she was able to put all her heartache on hold to deal with her brother’s wedding, Harry wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he could do it and he loved his sister more than anything.

They sifted through his cards as well. He listed most of his favorites on one card. He wasn’t organized like she was. He offered fewer anecdotes because when she spoke it was simply one of his favorite things and talking about himself when he could be listening to her felt like time would be better well spent.

Eventually, she ordered pizza for them to snack on. As she went to gather a couple plates, napkins, and the like, he used the restroom and immediately texted Niall.

I hate you.

Is she 100% real?

Unconvinced. She’s too perfect.

Ha! She’ll LOVE knowing that.

Don’t you DARE. How could you not tell me?

I DID! I told BOTH of you!

You weren’t clear. This is insane, Niall James Horan. She’s WONDERFUL.

Adorable. I have tears in my eyes.

Shut. Up.

Tell me what she writes about me on her flashcards.

Hopefully nothing...

</3

*

“You have a niece?!” She exclaimed. Her eyes lit up like nothing he had never seen in the last few hours. He smiled around his slice of pizza and put it on the plate in front of him. While he chewed that bite, he wiped his hand on the napkin and grabbed his phone out of his pocket as quickly as he could so he could sate her need to see the baby. Not that he cared, he loved to show her off.

Her eyes had hearts in them. “Harry,” she gasped. “She’s beautiful. She looks just like you,” she grinned. “Oh my gosh, she’s so cute,” she whispered and admired the pictures.

“You can swipe,” he offered. It was almost all of Harry’s most recent photos. To his knowledge he didn’t have any incriminating photos either. Maybe just some sunsets, a bug on a leaf that he thought was cool looking. “Wow, your sister is stunning too. That’s wildly unfair. Your mom must be gorgeous too,” she grumbled. Harry laughed again. He noted that she implied he was beautiful too. A warmth spread in his stomach because he wasn’t sure anyone had ever called him beautiful before.

“What’s on the other cards?” He asked while she flicked through pictures of his favorite little lady and she oohed and ahhed over them. She cleared her throat and set his phone aside and bit into her second slice of pizza as she answered.

“Oh, I don’t want to overwhelm you today. I was actually going to say you’ve been here forever you’re probably sick of learning about me.”

Would it be completely insane for Harry to say he never wanted to leave? That this was the best first date ever? That learning her life through index cards was something he never dreamed could be so romantic?

He grinned. “Alright, another day. I guess we should pace ourselves,” he amended. The wedding was in three months. They were able to take their time a bit. Starting with the blue cards made the most sense but they would definitely need more than one afternoon together to get to know one another. Plus they would need to go on fake dates to really sell this so they didn’t look so ridiculous trying to touch or something while they were together.

Plus, he wanted more time with her anyway. Really to get all the details he needed. “Can I meet your niece?” She asked excitedly. “I can’t believe Niall didn’t tell me. He knows how much I love playing with babies. That might have cured how upset I was a lot faster.”

Harry grinned but kind of wanted to frown at the same time. “Course y’can meet her. Can’t talk about the baby at the wedding and act like she doesn’t have an Auntie and Uncle duo,” he winked.

She bit her lip. “Your sister won’t mind?”

“I believe I was told, as long as I don’t kill her or maim her, I can do whatever I want with her.”

She smiled. “That’s nice. You’re close with your sister?” He nodded.

“Very. She’s m’best friend. But don’t tell Niall.”

“My brother is my best friend. But don’t tell Niall.”

He chuckled again. “Fair enough.”

“I guess, he won’t be my best friend though soon. He has Mia now and don’t get me wrong, I love Mia, and I know it’s normal. But it’s kind of sad in a nostalgic way. Did you feel that way when your sister got married and had a baby?” She asked.

Harry hadn’t really thought about it. “I don’t know. I love Gemma and... It wasn’t really… I don’t feel like she left me. I adore her. She’s m’hero,” he shrugged. “You’re older, right?” He was confirming his knowledge from her cards. She nodded and she looked at him expectantly, like he had the answer to a riddle she didn’t know how to solve. “Your brother looks up t’you, then,” he said it confidently and he hoped she understood that. There was something about a little brother and an older sister. He knew it well. “He’ll always be your best friend,” he assured her.

There was a long pause like she was trying to work through something in her mind. Maybe it was to hold back tears because her eyes got a little glassy and she took a deep breath. Then with a deep breath she smiled. “Thank you for today, Harry. I am dreading this way less than I was before.”

“Dating me or the wedding?” He joked.

“The wedding, of course! I wasn’t dreading meeting you,” she frowned. “Jesus, is that how it sounded? I am prone to sticking my whole foot in my mouth—”

He truly couldn’t stop laughing. “No, no Beautiful, y’didn’t… no, I was jus’ kidding around,” he assured her. “I had a lot of fun too. I can’t wait for our next lesson,” he pressed a hand on her arm and headed out the door.

“Can you text me when you get home?” She asked from the doorframe.

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Course, Beautiful. I’ll text you.”

*

Their next meeting was at the park, where she brought a literal picnic basket. It was filled with fruit and a sandwich for each of them. “I love peanut butter and jelly,” she admitted. “I know it’s kind of childish, but… I don’t know there’s something about it.”

He committed that to memory.

Harry willingly took the verbal quiz from all her blue cards when they last chatted.

They discussed a few more favorites and things they didn’t get to chat about much last time. It was a little more organic; less studying for an exam, and more of Harry falling so hard for her as if this was really natural. It felt so obvious to him. He wondered how she didn’t notice he was practically spewing hearts from his eyes, mouth, and ears while he spoke with her.

They decided that their next study date was going to be a movie night. All because she wrote that her favorite movie was Alice in Wonderland, but she told everyone it was The Godfather to sound more worldly.

“We’re getting deep now, yeah?” He joked.

“Very few people know Alice is my favorite, Harry. I’m really trying to sell it that we’re falling madly in love with one another.”

There was nothing to sell. Harry had bought in. She was lovely. He was glad he was getting to know her finally. Whether it was a bit artificial or not. It was all truth, and he was happy to learn it.

In addition to picnics, movie nights, and coffee dates, they decided part of being a couple was doing things that weren’t so date-like too. Normal dates, they called it.

“Can I know the other categories?” He asked. They were jogging first thing in the morning around his town. Which she hated so much. She wasn’t meant to jog, and it was clear that Harry was. He had a natural running build and did it so effortlessly. It was unfair. He slowed down when she needed a break and paid no attention to her breathlessness.

“What do you want to know?” She gasped.

“Well, what’s red?”

She was hoping he’d never ask. Maybe she could get away with him not knowing what was on those cards and the wedding would come and go before she needed to tell him. “Saving that for last.”

“C’mon, tell me the category, Beautiful.”

When he called her beautiful, even while she was sweating profusely and he was hardly out of breath, she didn’t have a choice but to answer him. She paused, bent forward at the hips with her hands on her knees for a moment. Harry waited patiently, not paying any attention to her out of shape nature. “It’s family stuff; red like blood,” she lifted her hands over her head and pulled her bent elbows from side to side to try and increase her airflow.

“Clever,” he smirked scanning her up and down again. He kept doing it to make sure she was okay. He did it each time they stopped. It made her feel a little awkward, but she passed it off on Harry practicing to look at her like he really did like her.

“I guess.”

“Saving it for last?” He repeated.

“Mm.”

“You don’t want t’talk about it?” He surmised.

She took a deep breath and twisted her neck around to continue her stretch while they were taking another break. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s really extra, I know... I’m sorry about that. I just… well, when we get to the red cards, I think it will make more sense… I’ll make more sense… but—”

“M’sure, beautiful. S’nice t’know you’re ninety percent real. It’ll be fun,” he assured her. “S’nice t’get t’know you in general. I like spending time with you,” he admitted. Although to him, it should have been obvious. Every time they parted, he texted her he arrived home (or he asked her to do the same because it was so adorable, he practically wanted to cry). For God’s sake he couldn’t stop checking her out on this run and he was wearing an outfit that covered most of her pretty body and it wasn’t even that form fitting. He was obsessed with her, and it had only been a couple weeks. They wouldn’t need to sell anything. He was going to be completely fixated on her at the wedding. No one would know it was fake.

“I don’t know why... I can’t even keep up on a simple run. We must have stopped ten times now,” she grumbled as they continued walking.

He rolled his eyes. “Y’don’t run regularly, love. Of course we need t’stop,” he shook his head. “Next time you’ll stop a little less, yeah? S’progress, s’no big deal,” he shrugged. He wasn’t looking to give her workout advice but something about the way she hid her pretty body behind oversized workout clothing told him it wasn’t just the fact that she had to stop that made her uncomfortable.

Her stomach felt like hot lava, and she swallowed. “Well… I… I probably won’t run more. You can go ahead without me.”

“S’okay. I’ll walk,” he shrugged. “S’pretty hot out today too. S’not really fair t’make y’run for the first time in a while right now,” then he took. His. Shirt. Off.

Easily, effortlessly. Tattoos, muscles, tanned skin. Harry was a work of art. She looked away feeling her face heating up despite the fact she was already warmed from the run. He wiped his face off of the sweat (that looked like it belonged on his face so naturally).

Harry didn’t care that she didn’t run often. He said they could stop as much as needed and of course she knew he was being kind and gentlemanly but if this was his workout for the day, wouldn’t that slow him down and ruin his progress? Maybe he would go again later when she didn’t hold him back. Whatever, it didn’t matter. It was for show. It was just… going for a run with your fake boyfriend. A perfect normal, reasonable thing to do. She shouldn’t be getting so overwhelmed by the way his sweat dripped along the individual ridges of his abs.

They needed to go grocery shopping for their next “normal” do-nothing date. Something that wouldn’t require Harry to take his shirt off. She looked away slightly, trying not to look like he electrocuted her. After he swiped the shirt across his body he tossed it at her. “Y’can use it if y’want,” he offered and headed in front of her. This was normal. Her fake boyfriend was giving her his real T-shirt to wipe the sweat off her face.

There were unholy things to think about as she inhaled his scent while she brushed the shirt over her face. Jesus, fuck. He was good.

How was he going on and on about how she was only fifty-three percent real or whatever when he was literally perfect? She had zero percent faith he was real—that this whole arrangement was real. This was a bad dream and nothing more. She was going to wake up and she was going to just be Niall’s imaginary friend to Harry. His green eyes wouldn’t haunt her at work and his laugh wouldn’t be anything she’d heard before.

As she wiped her face again, she bumped into Harry’s back, his skin damp and warm. She stumbled back in surprise, and Harry’s arm wound around her waist before she could fall or bang against the bench and tree that was behind her. “Sorry, Beautiful, s’jus’ someone on a bike, wanted t’cross,” he gave her a squeeze. “Y’okay?”

She nodded mutely. “Yeah… just hot. Wasn’t paying attention.”

He grinned and released all but her very sweaty hand. He gave It a squeeze and took the shirt back. “C’mon,” he pulled her quickly to another slight jog and he released her once they crested the small hill and approached an apartment building complex with sprinklers going over the grass. He ran through them. “Oh, this is so much better,” he laughed.

She gaped. Could there be a negative percentage? This hot man was dripping with water from his hair. He looked like he could model for rain boots. He tugged her into the cold spray and shook his head at her as she gasped. It cooled her right off soaking her shirt in no time at all. “Isn’t it better, Beautiful?”

She smiled, feeling happy in what felt like the first time in years. “Yeah, it’s much better,” she sighed and pulled her hair from it’s ponytail to get her hair wet and cool her scalp.

But actually, those feelings of happiness kept creeping in an awful lot while she hung out with Harry these last few weeks. It was quite coincidental. She managed to splash him with some of the water and he wrapped his wet body around and held her hair against the spray soaking her further while they laughed till their stomachs hurt at an ungodly hour in the morning.

Yeah. It was just... completely coincidental.

--

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