Beautiful Enough
Part I
Read Beautiful Enough here | ~4.1k words (perhaps I will try to write less in my updates for this one)
From Me/Warnings: some really rough self-esteem from our FMC here. But she's pretty proud of herself too (but you might not see it in this part). Also, it's probably going to be really hard but this is obviously a Harry story so as much as you want to, you can't fall in love with Niall, he's just the best friend although I once more probably made him too good. Hopefully you'll have a new ex-bf to hate with as much passion as my other ones.
Summary: “And he wasn’t absolutely turned off?”
“I told you ages ago that he was going to be good for you, darling.”
She sighed, rubbed a hand over her face. Unlike Harry, she had seen pictures of Niall’s friend. It was laughable that he was going to take her. It was perhaps too good to be true. She would still look like an idiot in front of her family. “Niall, he’s so handsome and I’m—”
“If the next word out of your mouth is anything but beautiful, darling, I’m going to pinch you when you least expect it.”
“Hi baby girl,” Harry cooed and lifted the little one out of the crib. She giggled and tucked her face into Harry’s chest as he carried her to the living room. She was a little over one and so sweet, so adorable. He sat on the sofa and held her in front of him. “Hi,” he smiled. “Hi princess,” he kissed her sweet little face along her round little cheeks, her cute tiny nose, and across her soft forehead. “Mumma, is so lucky t’have you, hmm?” He chuckled. “Mumma is so nice t’let me play with you any time I want, yeah? Can you say Uncle Harry yet? Please?”
She giggled a tiny little baby laugh and threw herself back into Harry’s chest. He kissed the top of her head, her soft hair, and rubbed her little back. “You need a diaper change,” he said knowingly.
She laughed again. As if to say oh Uncle Harry, stop it.
Niall knocked on the door and walked in. “There she is,” he greeted excitedly. “Hi, princess,” he smiled.
“Just in time, she needs her diaper changed.”
He chuckled and scooped her up. “Uncle Harry is mean, hmm? You like Uncle Niall so much more, right?”
The little one giggled again and tucked her face into Niall’s neck. “What’s Gemma up to?”
“Taking a much-needed day t’herself. And giving me some Uncle Harry time,” he grinned as the little girl popped her thumb into her mouth and snuggled against Niall’s shoulder. “Not that she’s not thrilled t’see you, but this couldn’t wait till later?”
“You remember my best friend from Uni?” He asked, rocking the little one back and forth uncaring that she needed to be changed.
“The one I never met that s’likely a figment of your imagination? M’only seventy-two percent sure she’s a person. So yeah, I remember ‘her,’” he put the pronoun in air quotes.
He rolled his eyes. “Her dumba—” he cleared his throat and shifted the little one to the other side catching himself before he swore. Gemma would kill Harry then Niall if her daughter learned a curse word before saying anything other than Mama, Dada, and baba. “Her ex-boyfriend broke up with her a few months ago. Her brother’s wedding is in a few more months and she’s panicking. Her ex is going with her cousin… because well, I’ll let you get from point A to point B on your own,” Harry frowned. If she wasn’t a figment of Niall’s imagination, that was truly horrible. “I reconnected with her a bit because she’s on Tinder… That’s how I figured it all out—she popped up while I was swiping and I called her. She’s fielding all kinds of crazy men looking for a guy to be her date, so she doesn’t feel embarrassed. And her mom is the worst, Harry. Like just… forget wicked stepmother. Her mother is so much worse. Basically, she’s not doing well and I just want to help her so… I thought maybe… you would be willing to go with her?”
Harry stared at his best friend. “She’s on Tinder looking for a wedding date? And you want me to go with her?” That seemed a little out there. Not that he blamed her. If she was as desperate as Niall claimed, he understood, he got it. He couldn’t say he wouldn’t do the same thing if he were in her position. But that was a lot. As far as Harry remembered from Niall’s imaginary best friend, she was in a serious relationship presumably with the same guy that had since then, cheated on her with her cousin for the last eight or so years from when they were in university. Of course he wanted to help her, but that was a lot of emotions to deal with, and Harry thought he was pretty good with emotions, really. He was pretty in touch with his own and liked listening to others vent so he could help them as best he could. But he didn’t really know her—given he was only eighty percent sure she was real. The last thing he wanted to do was go on a date with her to a family wedding and overstep on her feelings when she was going through some growing pains.
He was happy to help but he just wanted to make sure Niall really thought he was the best for the job.
“She’s really desperate, Harry. As soon as I realized what was happening, I tried to volunteer to go but it turns out I have a previous engagement the same day. Plus her family already knows me enough anyway to know I’m not serious about dating her.”
“Why’s this a big deal to her?” Harry asked curiously. It would be hard, but couldn’t she just go and pretend that it was fine? To Harry that seemed like a much better way to get back at her ex and her cousin.
“It’s her family,” he rolled his eyes. Harry should have known the wrench in his seemingly easy plan would have been her genetics. “Her brother is cool,” Niall said reassuringly. “But her mom, her dad… her extended family—I mean Christ her cousin stole her boyfriend,” he shook his head in disbelief. Yeah, that was fair--it was a lot more complicated than just going and pretending everything was fine. That was probably all Harry really needed to hear. “She was going to pay her Tinder date if she found a reasonable one. I’m just trying to look out for her before she gets murdered or something. I figured knowing the person she’ll go on a date with would be better.”
“Sure,” he agreed with his logic. “Why me?”
“Because you never met her, it would be perfect. Her family won’t know you and there will still be an air of getting to know one another that can’t be replicated but she’ll be able to act all lovey-dovey because in theory it will have been a couple of months. That honeymoon phase,” he grinned excitedly. “Honestly, Harry, you’re going to fall in love with her for real. So, you better be prepared. I didn’t harp so much on you not meeting because she was in a relationship with that piece of shi—shirt,” he kissed the baby’s soft hair as he self-corrected. “But in some ways, this is great news,” his voice was full of excitement.
That seemed like a lot more than Harry could put on his plate. But he wouldn’t mind helping out a friend if he could. Or a friend of a friend for that matter. Even if she was imaginary.
Harry sighed. “When is it?”
“June 27th,” and well, Harry would be an idiot to say no to a June wedding.
“What else do I have t’do?”
“I’m not sure. I can give you her number so you can chat with her. I won’t lie to you, she’s very thorough. She’s a data analyst for some medical company so she doesn’t miss a detail. She made flashcards for whoever was going to be her date so they could learn everything about her as quickly as possible so she wouldn’t look like a complete idiot in front of her family—her words not mine.”
Harry sucked his lip into his mouth. That did seem like a bit much. He wasn’t judging—not really. More so he felt his stomach clench a bit like he was upset. It seemed unfair she had to go through this.
Even though he was only eighty-four percent sure now that she existed. He tilted his head curiously. “Her family is really that—”
“It’s bad, Harry. Her brother is probably the only reason she’s agreeing to even go to the wedding.”
He ran a hand over his face. Harry was more than willing to help out Niall’s friend. How terrible could a night of dancing and eating free food on a Saturday in June really be at a pretty wedding venue? “Alright, well… sure. We can’t leave her alone, t’fend for herself, right?”
“Really?” He chirped, his eyes brighter. “Oh, that’s great. Let me text her right now,” he handed his niece back to him. “You should change her, now. You’re cute, princess, but you’re smelly,” he said knowingly with a smile and kiss to her head again before he went to the kitchen to get himself some snacks and make his phone call.
“Don’t ever date,” he warned the baby and kissed the side of her head. She giggled at him while they walked back to her bedroom to be changed. “Uncle Niall’s friend is not doing well and it’s all because she dated a meanie,” he explained. “So don’t date.”
She giggled her little one-year-old laugh once more. Again, as if to say, Oh Uncle Harry, stop it.
*
Niall was sitting on her sofa, casually scrolling through his phone. “You convinced Harry to go on a date with me?” She asked incredulously. “You told him it was going to be a crash course in getting to know me?” She was pacing. Immediately. Niall had one foot on her coffee table. Her place reminded him of her dorm room. It was cozy. A bit on the small side. Probably the only thing she could afford because since the split, she was on her own. He felt so bad for her, but since reconnecting, she didn’t even complain about that once. The only thing on her mind was not looking like an idiot in front of her family.
He chuckled. “I did.”
“And he wasn’t absolutely turned off?”
“I told you ages ago that he was going to be good for you, darling.”
She sighed, rubbed a hand over her face. Unlike Harry, she had seen pictures of Niall’s friend. It was laughable that he was going to take her. It was perhaps too good to be true. She would still look like an idiot in front of her family. “Niall, he’s so handsome and I’m—”
“If the next word out of your mouth is anything but beautiful, darling, I’m going to pinch you when you least expect it.”
She rolled her eyes, her cheeks turning pink. Despite being in a relationship for the better part of her twenties, it had been a while since someone had said she was beautiful without being dressed up or put together. As she fiddled with the items on her bookshelf as a distraction, she reminded herself she was anything but put together. Niall reaching out had been a godsend, truly. She needed someone else in her corner and for so long it felt like it was just her.
She had her coworkers and a few friends, but she longed for a partnership that—despite everything she disliked about them—her parents had. After Elijah and Mia caught up to the number of years that her mom and dad had been together perhaps, she would change her tune about her favorite couple.
Elijah was merely twenty-three, four years younger than herself, but seemed to have the whole love thing figured out. In a whirlwind, he met Mia while he studied abroad, proposed before the semester was finished, and was now getting married only a year and a half later since his proposal. “I should just not go. That would be easier.”
“You love your brother and soon to be sister-in-law,” which was true. As crazy as she thought her brother was, Mia was equally crazy about Elijah. Perhaps Mia even more so because Elijah could be a real piece of work. “Mia would be so sad not having you there,” he reminded her. It had only been a couple weeks since she reconnected with Niall but in that time he had caught himself up on all things best-friend related and he chatted with her like no time had passed at all. Naturally, he was right. Elijah and Mia didn’t deserve her absence when she was so kindly made into a bridesmaid and was sister of the groom. She sighed again and continued picking imaginary dust off the surface of her shelves. Niall let her avoid eye contact and all he said for a few minutes.
It was clear she was keeping a lot of her emotions bottled up. Niall didn’t even know they broke up until he saw her on Tinder. He knew she didn’t want to talk about it. Knew that there was stuff in her relationship she probably kept hidden for a very long time because it was easier. Because that’s all she had ever done. Niall knew all those secrets they shared while doing face masks and watching movies in his dorm room in favor of going out and partying.
Your boyfriend isn’t worried about me being friends with you? Niall had asked shortly into their friendship, taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl between them. They were watching some silly movie from the eighties with terrible special effects.
He doesn’t think I’m… she had taken a deep breath, and it was the first crack in her armor that he ever saw. I would never do that to him, and he knows that.
Sure, I’m not questioning your standards, darling… but I’d be pretty worried about the guy hanging out with my pretty girlfriend.
She rolled her lips into her mouth and shrugged. Well… I don’t know if he thinks I’m all that pretty. So, I imagine he’s not worried about that aspect.
That first crack was deep. Deeper than he really thought it would be—could be. The rest fell into place from there. Niall was her best friend and nothing more. There was this understanding that she needed a best friend and of course Niall would never do anything to jeopardize her relationship, or more specifically her sweet, lovely reputation.
No matter how much he hated him.
(Plus, Niall happened to enjoy university quite a bit—especially when it came to dating and she was happy to be a wing woman for him.)
But now…
As sad as she looked, Niall noticed there was a glow about her. He always thought his best friend looked lovely, but there was something more today. Despite that sadness, he swore she seemed… lighter.
“Darling,” he said gently. It was a bit unrecognizable on his friend. That was the only reason he really noticed. “Are you… happy?”
She glanced at him, then away nervously. Like she was caught. As if she had accidentally shoplifted. Except for her, this felt so much worse. “Am I happy?”
Niall looked at her a little softer, a little more apologetic for making her feel bad about her own emotions when he never intended it. “I don’t know, it looks like…” he tilted his head at her. “When was the last time I hung out with you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. Ages. Probably a few years at least. Especially to the degree they used to hang out in university in comparison. After graduation they got busy. College friendships ebbed and flowed of course, but Niall was one of her closest friends. Seeing him again made her realize how much of her own life she had been missing.
“It looks like a weight is lifted off your shoulders. You can be sad that Spencer’s a piece of shit and you loved him anyway and there were some things that were good between you two… but you can be relieved too… that’s okay to feel that,” he hated he had to give her permission, but he knew that he was probably one of the only people in her life that would. And he believed every word. Because he knew she wasn’t told she was pretty. Worse than that, she believed that was okay. And it wasn’t. At minimum that was the worst. There was more that maybe Niall wouldn’t know about all the inner workings of her relationship and that was okay. Knowing that was bad enough. Anything more, Niall might have done something rash to her ex, and it wasn’t really his place.
Instead, she looked at him, finally. Smiled that adorable smile he liked to see on her face because he loved her like he was the sister he never had and he was so lucky he could reconnect with her. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, darling,” he winked. “Harry is a bit surprised to learn that you really exist.”
She snorted. “I think you told me he was only sixty percent sure I was real in university.”
“I think we’re up to eighty now,” he joked.
“Ooh, erring on the side of believing. Think it will be ninety when we finally meet?”
He chuckled. “I told him about your flashcards… he’s making his own for you. Probably not as elaborate as whatever this is,” he looked at the stacks of color-coded cards on her coffee table. “What do the colors mean?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly and snatched them up in an orderly fashion and moved them across the room to her kitchen counter.
“You, who matched your notebooks, pens, and folders to your classes and college, you don’t have a color-coded system for your learning-about-you-flashcards?”
“Nope,” she smiled proudly, joked with her friend like she wasn’t a total social mess.
*
Hi Harry. Niall gave me your phone number and told me to text you.
Very suspect. Back down to 76%. But if you ARE real, nice to meet you.
She snorted. Oh right. Texting over a phone call isn’t very convincing, is it?
Nope. Not at all. Your percentage is actually plummeting rapidly.
Hmm... I could… send you a picture?
That was intriguing. Harry hadn’t seen a picture of her. He didn’t want to be creepy knowing that she had a boyfriend all those years ago so he never pressed him for a picture. And honestly, he liked keeping the harmless joke alive between himself and Niall. He could vaguely place Niall saying something about how she didn’t like pictures. So it seemed rude to look her up. Like an invasion of privacy. Regardless of the publicity of her profiles online, whatever they were.
So it wouldn’t be kind to make her send a picture whether he believed in her existence or not if that was the way she felt about herself. Your honesty brings you back up to 81%. But don’t worry, I’m willing to wait to meet you "in person".
Thank you, I just got home from work, so I look and feel like shit, quite honestly. I would have hated for you to change your mind before even meeting me in person.
I won’t change my mind, love. Especially over a picture of all things. I’m happy to help you out. I like to believe I'm not that shallow too.
There was a wave of relief that washed over her as she watched the three dots pop up as a visual of him still thinking his next sentence. She felt a slight pulse of guilt for assuming someone so handsome would simply give up on her because of how she looked. Before she could apologize, his next thought vibrated in her hand.
IF you’re real, of course.
She laughed and shook her head. Right. Of course.
I’m free this weekend, if you have some time to study.
You’re sure you want to do this? I was only joking. I can find someone else to take on my madness.
That percentage went up perhaps to the highest amount to date, hovering somewhere around ninety-three percent. Based on what Niall said, she sounded a bit desperate. Harry had an older sister, a mum he adored, and a baby niece that he would set the world on fire for if something were to happen to her. There was no way he was going to let someone Niall knew and loved, set herself up for a situation that was arguably much too vulnerable for a complete stranger to take advantage of her.
I’ve heard the best kind of people are mad, bonkers, off their head.
Hmm.
Hmm what?
Nothing. Saturday at one? Do you like sugar cookies? I think it’s fun to have something to do when meeting someone for the first time. We could decorate cookies as a distraction if it’s awkward and you think I’m miserable.
Ninety-four percent. But he thought it very well could be a hundred percent.
Who doesn’t like sugar cookies?
*
There was a knock on her door, so it was now or never. She brushed her hands over the skirt of her dress. She hoped it didn’t look like she was trying too hard. Maybe she should change. Spencer would think she’s trying too hard. Like when he had friends over from work. Too dressed up, but somehow if she didn't wear a dress, she would be dressed down.
But Spencer wasn’t here. And she was trying, trying so hard to come to terms with that. If she tried too hard so what? Harry was only eighty percent sure she existed. After the wedding it could go back to zero for all she cared. There was no way someone as handsome as Harry Styles was going to care about her other than helping out his friend. There was a deadline for their fake relationship and that was fine. Let her try too hard.
The thought didn’t stop her from fluffing her hair and praying her makeup looked alright before taking a deep breath and finally opened the door.
It had been years since she saw a picture of Harry. Her job kept her busy and trying to keep her relationship alive she was pretty silent on social media. If Niall had posted a picture with Harry at any point in time since university, it was entirely possible she missed it.
Back in college, Harry was handsome in a frat-boy kind of way. Dimples that made girls at school swoon, she was sure. Hair that begged to have fingers run through it while making out with him. A gym-toned body with a litany of tattoos that may have some kind of meaning but no one cared to check because they were too engrossed with the image of Harry’s naked body in front of them (perhaps she may have ogled one photo of a shirts and skins football game he and Niall played in together back then for some undisclosed amount of time to gather such information after Niall had mentioned his friend was willing to help her.)
So of course, she knew he was going to be handsome. That kind of sexiness didn’t just disappear overnight or even within a decade.
But it was unfair. Because not only was he still handsome, aging had been downright kind to Harry. They weren’t wrinkles per se, but there was something on the outside corners of his eyes like a slight crinkle from laughing and smiling so much. It made him look utterly happy even with the smallest grin on his pretty pink lips. Like their was a memory of happiness that refused to leave his pretty skin. Those dimples seemed deeper. Was that possible? Did dimples get deeper with age? There was a sexy scruffiness to his face. Like he shaved a few days ago and it was growing back in to make him look so good it was unfair. It seemed he still went to the gym and while he was fully clothed she could only imagine how his muscles had changed--but if the stretch of his shirt over his biceps was any indication, she was sure they still existed.
Part of her thought she should have just closed the door in his face and told him that she couldn’t do this. There was no way her family would ever believe she could have captured the eye of someone so happy, so handsome. “Hey Beautiful,” he said sweetly. His voice was warm, gentle, it dripped with warm sugar, like syrup but sweeter.
And the worst part of their very first interaction was that he sounded like he meant it. That he was genuinely calling her beautiful and because of everything… she simply couldn’t believe it.
“Hi,” she said softly. “Is it a hundred?” She asked immediately.
“Pardon?” He tilted his head and leaned against the door frame. Like he was perfectly content to have their meeting here in the literal doorway and not at all offended that she hadn’t invited him in yet.
“A hundred percent? Is seeing me in person enough to prove my existence?” Almost instantly, she felt like an idiot for saying it. For continuing this stupid, dumb joke that Niall and Harry had carried on for nearly a decade of since she met Niall.
He chuckled (like he thought she really was funny).
Then he scanned her. Like full body scan. It was slow and deliberate as he took in her dress her hair, her skin, her shoes for God’s sake.
It should have made her feel uncomfortable. But he was so sexy, and he was looking at her. Really looking at her like she was beautiful. Like he really meant it, she thought. “S’pretty good,” he nodded appreciatively. “Niall’s nothing if not thorough at least if y’are a hologram from his imagination or something,” he joked.
She laughed quietly under her breath. “So not a hundred?”
“Probably like ninety-nine.”
“Well come in, I’ll see if I can scrounge up one percent when I eat my weight in sugar cookies.”
“Ninety-nine and a half,” he said over his shoulder while she closed the door behind him.
--
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