I ran to the back of the stage, the roar of the crowd was still going behind me, echoing through building. It only added to the adrenaline rush I was feeling after tonight's show.
I felt good.
Truth was, I wanted to feel even better. I slowed my run to a quick walk, making my way to where I knew the car would be waiting for me. As I turned the final corner at the end of the hall, I saw the car, but what my eyes landed on was even better.
My sweet Y/N.
Just the sight of her made my cock twitch in my pants. She was wearing those damn black jeans I loved. They hugged her waist just right, holding her ass up, accentuating it's plumpness. A dainty button up top sat on her body, barely covering her tits that sat so perfectly on her frame.
When I finally reached her, she pushed up from the car, her hands wrapping around my neck. She never cared if I was sweaty after shows; a part of me thought it turned her on secretly, though she never admitted it.
"Best show ever, baby. I swear that was the best performance you've ever given." She said, her praising me only fueling my adrenaline.
"Yeah? The best?" I asked, smirking at her causing her to chuckle. She leaned forward and bit my lip, pulling it towards her before letting it go.
"The best." She smiled that sexy smile that she only ever gave me. I had seen every smile on her, and this one, the one that went slightly more to the left cheek than her right, it was just for me.
"Y/N, I need to show you something in the dressing room baby." I said, and she raised her eyebrows softly.
"Oh, really? What exactly?" She said and I laughed, kissing her forehead.
"You'll see." I said, kissing her softly before taking her hand in mine and leading her towards the dressing rooms. We had about fifteen minutes before they came to clean out the rooms, that was more than enough time.
We reached my dressing room and I quickly pulled her in, closing and locking the door behind us. I pushed her body against it, my hands gripping at her waist. The tip of my nose moving along the length of her neck.
"Y/N, I need some attention." I said, my lips meeting her neck, sucking softly against her skin. I heard her giggle, as her hands moved down the front of my body, my chest exposed through the jacket I was wearing tonight. She moved her hand over my cock, palming at it sweetly.
I bit at her neck, a soft moan escaping her, "You didn't get enough tonight?"
"It wasn't the type of attention you can give me baby, and you know it." I whispered against her neck, my tongue running up it to her ear. I bit at her ear lobe and her hand gripped on my hardening cocked.
"Because no one can tell you how good you are like I can, right sir?" She said, too sweetly for her own good. She palmed over my cock, and it only got harder under her touch, blood rushing without any control.
"No one can do a lot of things the way you do, Y/N." I said, moving my gaze to her and soon we were kissing, our lips loving harshly against one another. Her hands began fiddling with the button on my pants, moving the zipper down quickly, and pushing my pants and briefs down my legs. I felt the relief of my hard cock not being contained by my tight pants anymore, and groaned against our kiss.
She chuckled, moving down my body, trailing kisses until she was down on her knees. I watched as she grabbed hold of me, moving her tongue up my length, wrapping it around my tip until she finally took me in her mouth completely. She moved her mouth up and down my length so skillfully, her hand moving on the places her mouth couldn't, her other hand palming against my balls.
"Fuck, Y/N, you're an angel with those lips, baby, uhh..."I groaned, grabbing a fistful of her hair, pushing her further down on me, my hips bucking towards her. She always took me so well, never a complain from her. I felt as my length curved down her throat, her saliva dripping down my cock and dribbling out of her mouth as I continued to fuck her mouth.
I felt as she used her hands on my thighs to push away from me, she peeked up at me through her long lashes, licking her lips. Her hands both on my length, moving up and down me, slick from how wet her mouth left me.
"I want you to fuck me, H. Fuck me baby, cause that's just something else your so good at. Driving yourself in and out of me. Making me come the way no one else ever has." She said, my core tightening at her words, abs contracting. She had this sweet way of saying the dirtiest things that just drove me insane.
I quickly retightened my grip on her hair, pulling her straight up on her feet. I brought her to my lips, kissing her desperately as I reached down to undo her jeans. Her hands wrapping around her neck, fingers crawling and wrapping themselves into my hair, tugging on it.
I quickly worked on pushing her jeans and underwear off her lower body, down her legs far enough she could step out of them. Once she did, I picked her up, her legs wrapping around my waist. She kept kissing me, her tongue finding mine, her hands moving to my shoulders as she began to grind her middle against my stomach. I could feel how slick she already was; her wetness coating my stomach with every movement and it caused a groan to escape my lips.
"Harry, I'm so wet for you." She said into our kiss, tugging at my hair as I walked us over to the couch in the room, quickly placing her down.
"I know baby, so good for me, so ready." I bit at her lip as I sat down with her on me, "Slip me in baby, ride me please."
She nodded, lifting her body slightly as I reached up and unbuttoned her shirt, pushing it off her shoulders. I loved that she never wore a bra, I loved that I could immediately take in her perfect tits, my hands palming at them; my fingers pulling at her nipples, teasing them between my fingers. I felt her take my cock in her hand, rubbing my tip against her opening, "Oh god." She moaned, beginning to slowly slip me inside her.
She was so tight, so warm and the slow circles she was drawing on me as she took me in further caused my head to fall back, "Fuck Y/N, god baby you feel so good." I wrapped my arms around her, pressing my face into her chest, placing kisses everywhere, moving my mouth over her nipples, sucking and licking them as she began bouncing on me more.
She would squeeze me, pulling me deeper inside her as she did. Her movements so confident, her moans so freely filling the dressing room.
"Oh Harry, oh god. Do I feel good sir? Does all this feel so good for you baby." She moaned, my lips still on her breasts. She knew what she was doing with her words, my grip tightening around her waist so my hips could move up, pushing my self deeper into her.
"So fucking good, Y/N, oh sweet girl. So fucking good." I said, my hips bucking up and meeting hers. She gripped onto my shoulder and I pushed back slightly so I could move my hand, placing my thumb on her clit. I rolled it in circles against it, causing her head to fall back. Her movements turned into slow circles, her hips grinding on my cock as she pushed herself against my finger. I was coated in her wetness and I didn't care.
"Haa...oh fuck, Harry, please don't fucking stop." She moaned, whimpers coating her heavy breathing. I grabbed onto her hip with my free hand, not wanting her movements to falter, keeping her hips moving on me.
"Come for me sweet angel, come on me baby, let me feel every bit of you." I said, her head coming back straight, our eyes locking as she nodded. She bit her lower lip, her eyes fluttering closed. She looked so sexy, every bit of her body like this, riding me, was pushing close to my undoing. I could feel my core tightening, and I groaned at how good she felt.
"I'm going to come...oh god like that...Harr..." she stopped moving, her body trembling as I kept moving my thumb on her clit, driving hard deep thrusts into her. She came, her moans rolling off her lips with profanities mixed in.
Her body, went slightly limp in my arms, and I used every bit of strength I had to pick her up so I could flip her over. I kept myself inside her the entire time. I placed her on the couch and brought her legs to my shoulders, pushing them against her body as I began thrusting in her. They were long, slow thrust as I used every last bit of energy I had to keep on going.
"Come for me, sir, please. God, you deserve it, please." She begged, her hands reaching up and pulling me to her. Our lips met messily, I felt my arm buckle slightly, and I reinforced my weight on it, driving my cock in her faster now, letting her slick guide me. She kept squeezing me, pulling me deeper inside with each thrust until finally I felt my release.
"Fuck." I groaned out, her lips peppering kisses on my chin and jawline. My breathing was heavy, both of us sweaty. I bit my lip, swallowing breaths that got caught in my throat.
She ran her fingers softly through my hair, she knew this always helped me come to after I came. Helped me relax.
"I'll fuck you like that after every show if you want." She whispered teasingly and I chuckled.
"How about you do it again at home first?" I said pulling out of her slowly, before moving to kiss her lips.
She bit at my lower lip and nodded, "All night of you please."
PREVIEW - The Nearness of You, Part 2 (Let You Love Me) - A Harry Styles One Shot
A best friends as lovers one shot feat. long distance, the ghosts of boyfriends past and expensive skincare.
Yes, I have a part 2 of The Nearness of You coming for you all! Here’s a preview:
++
“Right, guest rooms are this way,” Harry starts to the left, turning to look back at you. Whatever he sees on your face is exactly what he was hoping for, because half a second later he starts cackling to himself and turns back to go the other way, “Just kidding. You’re staying this way with me.”
“Twit,” you mutter, just loudly enough for him to hear.
“So many people have told me if I wanted to switch to comedy, I could,” he tells you boldly, you can hear in his voice Harry’s playing with you.
“Those people are lying,” you bite back quickly, taking in the bedroom Harry’s just led you into.
He pushes your case up to the entrance of a walk-in wardrobe and then disappears inside it. You hear a bathroom fan turn on. The room you’re standing in is plain and largely empty besides a collection of Harry’s clutter—books beside the bed, an analogue alarm clock, a candle, cords on the floor on the far side of the room. He’s tidied for you though, in his London place there’d be clothes hanging on every surface. He’s put things away here though. It didn’t feel very lived in.
Harry remerges with a small pile of towels in his arms. As he passes your suitcase, he somehow manages to catch his foot on it and dramatically stumbles for a couple of steps, “Jesus! Who put that there?”
“Was that a bit?” You ask dully. He was too obvious in looking up for your reaction, already a shadow of a proud smile there at making you laugh. You don’t give him the satisfaction. Yet.
He grinned at you, throwing the towels on the bed, “Nothing gets passed you. I’m going to try out all my best material on you while you’re here.”
You watch where the towels fall all over the white duvet, your mind elsewhere suddenly. When you look back Harry is in front of you. “This will be the longest amount of time we’ve spent together since we were kids,” you say quietly.
He tilts his head to once side, “I guess. Yeah. Except that we’ve spoken every day since my birthday. Didn’t do that when we were just mates.”
A quick smile pulls at your lips, “That’s true.”
Harry steps close, takes your face in his hands and kisses you slowly, “Do you think our phones will miss each other?”
“Hmm, probably,” you let him kiss you again, feeling his hands lower to squeeze your bum deliciously.
“Go shower before I seduce you,” he says against your lips.
Heyy can you write with harry? Where harry and reader are dating and when Harry and reader are alone harry is being all needy clingy touchy touchy kisses hugs cuddles all cute but reader is a bit uncomfortable because she is shy. After a few attempts of trying to warm her up(this part might be a bit smutty if you write but if you dont it is totally okay) harry gives her space and he is heartbroken bc she is not comfortable with him yet? And then they make up this time she pushes herself out of her comfort zone. Im sorry this is so specific but i thought it would be cute. And harry is so underrated he deserves more imagines. I would be so happy if you can write this!! Love you😻
clingy | harry potter
pairing: harry x gryffindor!reader
word count: 907
summary: where y/n feels uncomfortable around harry
a/n: sorry i took so long for this :(
warnings: slight angst
universe: harry potter
“Hi, sweetheart. How was your day today?”, he ask you happily after throwing himself next to you onto the red sofa in the Gryffindor common room, throwing his backpack on the floor and almost immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. Pressing a gentle kiss against your temple, he exhaustedly leans back into the soft material and watches you closing the book you have just been absorbed in, before you stare into the warm fire in front of you.
“It was okay”, you smile at him gently and he carefully pulls you even closer, grabbing your hand to intertwine it with his own. Uncertainly, you look around the room to see if anyone is watching the both of you when Harry suddenly pulls you into a tender embrace that you did not expect at all.
“H-Harry!”, you exhale in shock and quickly escape his arms again, your face turning red while you lower your head to hide behind your hair. You have always had your problems with physical contact, but it is even worse when everyone around you could see you any time. You love Harry with all your heart and yet you still feel uncomfortable when he touches you, even after several months of dating him.
“I am sorry”, he finally clears his throat, feeling just as uncomfortable as you right now. He perfectly knows how insecure and shy you still are around him, which is why he would never push you to anything you do not want, and yet he has made you feel uncomfortable again, even though he just wants you to feel safe and comfortable around him. Countless times he already tried to warm you up to him, but always without any success which causes him to slowly start doubting himself, blaming himself for something that he has no control over.
“I should not have done that, I am sorry”, he continues after you did still not respond, but because of the rueful undertone in his voice, you look up and look him straight in the eyes, which seem to shimmer now. As soon as your eyes meet, however, he forces a smile onto his lips, before sighing out loud and letting go of your hand, which he was still holding in his tightly.
“Maybe it is best if I give you more space from now on”, he states, talking to himself rather than to you, but before you can even think of what to answer, he already stands up and disappears into the boys’ dormitories.
Furious at yourself for letting Harry blame himself for your own aversion to physical contact, tears form in your eyes. If only you could jump over your own shadow for once; even if it is not for yourself, at least for him. You do not want to be responsible for making him feel bad when all you ever wanted is for him to be happy. Because he deserves it. More than anyone else.
Taking in a heavy breath, you quickly collect your books and stow them in your bag, before going to your own dorm room to think. That night you find it incredibly difficult to close your eyes even the tiniest bit and the next morning you feel like you have not slept at all. Although you are extremely tired and exhausted, the adrenaline suddenly rushes through your body as you remember what you have been thinking about all night long.
Since you woke up this early anyway, you decide to go down to the common room already and wait there for Harry so you can tell him all the things you have been thinking about all night. You have considered every single word very carefully and are now ready to tell him all of this.
You do not have to wait long for him, because just a few minutes later you hear dragging footsteps coming down the stairs and when you turn around, you discover your boyfriend with a very exhausted expression on his face. He does not seem to have slept well last night either.
When he spots you, he freezes for a moment and you just look at each other without saying a word. You then slowly take the first step and come up to him, taking a quick look behind him to make sure that Ron does not appear out of nowhere all of a sudden, and then completely devote your concentration to him.
As he stand in front of you, looking at you with such sadness in his heartbroken eyes, you can’t get a single word out. Everything that you memorized overnight is suddenly gone. From this moment on you do not know what to say anymore and Harry seems to feel the exact same way, which is why you decide to do the only thing possible that can still express your thoughts and feelings without any words.
You hug him.
As firm but gentle as possible, you wrap your arms around him. You feel how his whole body tenses in surprise, but it does not take long before he relaxes and returns the hug, just as firmly and full of affection as yours.
“I do not need any space from you, Harry. I only need you by my side”, you confess to him and feel his lips on yours in a loving kiss in the next moment that reveals all his feelings to you as well.
Giselle Mason is on the brink of achieving her life-long dream of dancing the lead in Swan Lake, and maybe for once living up to her mother, the famous Natalia Korsakova’s legacy.
Harry Styles has one last chance to salvage his career. After being cut from the Royal Ballet, he knows his only chance at saving his career is a fresh start with a new company.
An enemies to lovers mini fic about roles, image, and the stories only our bodies tell.
In which Jules might or might not have feelings for her best friend, Harry, who is getting engaged to another girl and everything just becomes... more complicated.
or
friends to lovers to enemies to lovers- it’s complicated
“Where are you even at right now, Harry? I don't see you,” I laughed into the phone, scanning the train station for the familiar broad shoulders and soft brown hair.
“Uh... I'm by a big sign...”
I plugged my other ear from the excess chatter around me. “Yeah, because that narrows it down,” I scolded and rolled my eyes.
Maneuvering my way through the crowd I felt a hand grab my wrist, spinning me around to the wide smile I grew up loving.
“There you are,” he laughed into my hair, pulling me into his chest for a tight hug.
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I breathed in the smell of his favorite cologne.
It had been one long month since I had last seen Harry. One long month of hardcore English papers, late night studying sessions and the occasional all-nighter for an early exam. Even though we both lived in London, it felt like we never saw one another anymore. Between my new semester at uni and Harry's rising fame with his solo career, it was hard to sit down with the familiarity of a childhood face even for one moment.
I had been in the middle of closing my apartment door and wrestling the keys out of the lock when I answered Harry's call last week. He had been in the states working with the band on the new album and had just received the news that he had a week off.
“And I felt that we have a lot of catching up to do,” he had chuckled through the phone and my heart had ached with longing for our hour long conversations. It had been too long since I had sat down with my best friend.
“We do,” I had sighed into the phone.
Harry and I had grown up next to each, our birthdays only being months apart. Every memory I had was branded with a piece of him in it. First day of year one, first stitches, first prom... All of it lived with him by my side. I didn't know a life without him until I moved away for uni and he became famous, spending months away from me in different countries. The invisible cord that kept us connected was pulled so taut it hurt.
But the aching was subsiding as I leaned into his chest right now in the train station, the cord snapping us back together as I hugged him like I did when I was younger.
“When did you get so buff?” I laughed, squeezing his bicep. “it hasn't been that long, has it?”
He pulled away to examine his arm with thoughtful eyes. With a humble shrug he gave a simple, “Eh.”
I rolled my eyes. He was still the same Harry I had always known, the one that rarely thought of himself and refused to believe he was nothing but the lanky, over-looked teenager he had once been.
He gave me a gentle nudge. “Let's go before people realize I'm here. I'd rather pictures of me not get out before I’ve had the chance to see my mum”
He put his hand at the bottom of my spine, guiding me out of the crowd toward the waiting taxi. A warm London breeze slipped its way between us, blowing my dark hair out of it's braid and around my face.
“How does an ever-waiting Buffy the Vampire marathon sound?” I asked, settling in the seat beside him and taking note of the new stubble contagiously making its way around his jawline.
An eyebrow raised and a boyish smirk lifting the corner of his mouth, he replied, “I assume that implies pizza rolls?”
“When have you ever been over to my apartment and not been graced with pizza rolls?” It was somewhat of a tradition of ours to eat pizza rolls together. Neither one of us being graced with the ability to cook well— and a tendency to always overcook things when we did try—our parents gave up and started buying us the only thing that couldn't be ruined with an oven timer. The late nights in my basement watching Friday the 13th—or any scary movie we could get our hands on from my dad's secret collection— and the smell of pizza rolls dancing through the air had been our favorite thing to do.
The taxi wove its way across the busy street towards the corner by the university where my apartment was located. A tiny brick complex with ivy running up the side and a rack of bikes chained out front. It was small and my neighbors were ultimately quiet—although their cigarette smell would sometimes drift up to my tiny balcony— I was content. It was the quietest part of London that I could find.
Harry followed me up the metal stairs to my door, his tall figure looking strange against my lame potted plants and worn out “welcome” mat in the entrance. Turning the key into the lock, I pushed it open, the familiar melody of creaking hinges inviting us in.
“Remind me to fix that for you,” he hummed, running his hand across the dry bolts that held it to the frame.
I rolled my eyes at his worry, closing the door behind us.
My place was small and cozy. A one-bedroom brick walled apartment with dark wooded floor and a simply tiled I'm-not-a-chef kitchen. Harry waltzed straight into my living room, kicking his boots off and tossing himself onto my brown leather couch.
“How's Elaine?” I asked while walking into the kitchen to dig out the pizza rolls, thinking of the pictures of Harry and his girlfriend of two years that he had posted lately. She was a big- time traveling dancer, hitting the Hollywood spotlight with him all the time. Although I had met her on plenty of occasions, we never really clicked besides the one mutual subject of Harry. I wasn't sure if she liked me or not or just finally accepted my occurring appearance in Harry's life, but she was pretty quiet when Harry and I wanted to hang out- no longer the original reaction when she was completely jealous.
“She's good,” he called back from my couch, the noise of the television surrounding his voice. “she's actually in New York right now for Justin Timberlake's tour that just started. I saw her last week.”
I nodded, slipping the tray into the oven. Sliding Harry's legs out of the way, I joined him on the couch where he had started a sitcom. He laid his feet back into my lap without skipping a beat, keeping his eyes glued to the TV.
“You never told me if you went on a second date with that Will bloke,” he said.
I grimaced. Will had been a guy I had met at the student center a couple of weeks back. He was… okay, a Nike wearing, gel-haired and ready-to-party kind of guy. With nothing to do for a Friday night, I had agreed to let him take me to a restaurant down the street. He had been pretty nice, opening the door for me and laughing at my lame jokes. We had even had a pretty heavy make-out session back at his place, a well-deserved orgasm and a cordial “see you around” when I made a hasty exit.
“Because I didn't,” I mumbled, playing with the hem of Harry's pants by his ankles.
“Why don't you ever date, Jules?” he asked with pure curiosity. “I see the way guys look at you, you know you're gorgeous, right?”
I rolled my eyes, ignoring his last statement. “We didn't really hit it off, he wasn't that great. After I left his place… I just wasn’t feeling excited to see him again, y’know?”
“Left his place?” he inquired. “You went to his place.”
Shame settled in my eyes as I glanced down. While Harry was my best friend, I didn’t really disclose my sex life with him. I knew he had one and I’m sure he assumed I did as well. It just wasn’t something I ever felt was needed to be shared. I sighed, “Like I said… he wasn’t that great.”
His eyes glared into the side of my head until he used his foot to push my eyes to his, giving me a stare that was hard to place.
Swatting his foot away, I gave him an annoyed look.
He cleared his throat. “You say that about every guy,” he accused.
Trying to lighten the conversation, I poked him in the side. “I don't say that about you,” I added playfully.
He rolled his eyes and gave into our comfortable banter. “You're a mess.”
“You don't know how to true that is.”
….
“This was my favorite episode,” Harry said, nodding toward the TV and grabbing another steaming pizza roll off of the plate in front of us.
I watched as Buffy staked yet another vampire, not a hair out of place. “Mine too,” I agreed. “American television is just better in general.”
We had pushed my glass coffee table to the side of the room, dragging the comforter off my bed along with every one of the blankets I had in my closet onto the hardwood floor in front of the TV. Harry and I had huddled up with our backs against the couch, his long legs stretched in front of him and my ankles folded beneath me. I had a plate heaping with hot pizza rolls for us, Harry pushing one after another into his mouth.
“Do you remember in Grade 10 when you wore that hideous plaid skirt that went to your knees and no one talked to you for the rest of the day?” he asked, smirking at me over a pizza roll that had paused in front of his lips.
“Do you remember when you used to straighten your hair and would sing opera for every school talent show?” I rose an eyebrow at him.
He squinted his eyes at me, furrowing his brow.
I laughed, playfully hitting him in the arm. “It's okay because we were both losers together.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “We are quite the pair.”
He went to sink his teeth into the pizza roll, when it split in half and flung sauce across his face. His chin and cheeks tainted with the reddish sauce.
I laughed at the dumfounded look he gave me, my eyes watering and my side cramping. Harry's tongue flicked out to reach the sauce at the corner of his mouth, his eyes crinkling with concentration.
“Did I get it?” he asked, looking at me innocently.
I giggled and shook my head, scooting closer to him. “No, Harry... it's all over your face, bub.” I looked down as my laughter bubbled up again.
Crinkles around his eyes formed as he smiled at my laughing. “Well?” he asked. “Are you going to get it off of me?”
I licked my thumb and rubbed at the corner of his jaw. I knew Harry's face like the back of my hand, but looking this close at him within this moment he seemed different. I guess I never realized just how much he had actually matured. His jaw was structured, the valley of it dipping down to his chin and holding two full, pink lips. Lips that were slightly naturally pouted right now, parted and surrounded by pizza sauce. And the stubble he had let grow out below his nose and scattering itself back around his chin was something else entirely different— Harry wasn't that little boy anymore.
I knew he wasn’t a boy. There would be times he’d release new pictures from magazines, hair slicked back, shirtless, tattoos on display… but I tried not to linger too long on them. It was Harry. My Harry.
It made me think of the countless times we had gone places where people had mistaken us as a couple and our quiet denying, “No, no, we're just friends.” And I never questioned it. I never even thought differently until this moment.
Thoughtlessly, I ran my thumb across the valley of his bottom lip even though no pizza sauce resided there. His light green eyes watched me intently, but didn’t make any move to stop me.
This— this fluttery feeling erupted in my the pit of my stomach taking flight into my ribcage where my heart did this strange thing that didn't exactly feel like beating, but skipping or dancing or maybe even spinning.
With my thumb resting in the middle of his bottom lip, his mouth closed around me, framing my finger with a small kiss and it did strange things to my heart.
But he was my best friend and even though we technically weren't doing anything it was wrong to feel this way about Harry. He had Elaine and I... this wasn't supposed to be happening.
I removed my thumb from between his lips, brushing hurriedly on his chin for the rest of the remaining sauce.
“Um-” I stuttered, feeling shaky and almost way too light. “I- uh- I.” I cleared my throat and looked down as red rose to my cheeks- I have never blushed in front of Harry before.
He released a long breath that he must have been holding, not letting his eyes leave my face.
Wiping my hands on my leggings, I shakily said, “I think I got it all off.”
“Jules, I-”
“I'm sorry, I just... you know. Spaced out for a second... there.” I nodded with myself.
He sat up straighter, holding his chin an inch higher. “Jules, I need to tell you something,” he stated, his voice rough.
I put my hands between my knees to prohibit them from doing anything else without my knowledge and nodded for him to continue, he looked so distressed.
“I um-” he cleared his throat. “The reason I wanted to see you this week was...” His eyes flicked away from mine to anything else in the room.
I narrowed my eyes at him, confused by what he was about to say. Usually I could read him so well but after what just happened... I didn't know.
“I'm going to propose to Elaine,” he said, looking at his hands resting in his lap.
My heart chipped at the edges, but I wasn't sure why. He was my best friend... shouldn't I be happy for him?
“Harry-” my voice cracked, but I couldn't let it. I couldn't let whatever I was feeling get in the way for Harry to have everything he had ever wanted out of life. And nothing even happened, it wasn't like we kissed or anything. It was just a stupid thing that I got carried away with because I didn't realize how incredibly attractive he was. That was it, that's all.
I pushed a pained smile onto my face, refusing to let it crack any piece of me. “Harry... That's... Great- lovely. I'm so happy for you.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me, letting his arms slip around my waist and his warm breath to brush my neck.
“I'm glad, Jules... Because if you wouldn't be okay with it, I don't know what I would have done,” he murmured, his prickly cheek brushing against mine.
“Why wouldn't I be okay with it, Harry?” I asked, trying to push the aching away into a far corner of my mind where it would never be invited over again. “You're my best friend. I want you to be happy… no matter what.” Even if my confused feelings suffered.
“I don't know... I didn't want you to think that if I married Elaine she would be the only woman in my life,” he said. “I wanted you to understand that you could still be there, you know. Even if we couldn't hang out all the time.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing out my next words. “Harry. You're like my brother, there's no way I can be pushed completely out of the picture.”
I wasn't sure if I felt him pull me tighter or if I wanted him too.
…
I laid with my back to Harry on my living room floor, a warm blanket tucked tightly around me and my ears heightened to hear his soft snores. We had both talked a little while longer about me wanting to be a psychologist and him wondering if fame had completely altered his personality. And after a few pizza rolls later, I agreed with him that I was tired and rolled over when I saw his eyes were officially closed. I wasn't tired though, rather awake and alert and buzzing with electricity. Here was my best friend who was in love with his soon to be fiance' and here I was hoping silently that maybe he would chang his mind. Maybe he realized that... I don't know- I don't know what I wanted.
I wanted him to be happy, I was one hundred percent certain with every cell in my body that I wanted Harry Styles to receive all of the love he himself gave into the world. I wanted Elaine— or any girl— to wake up next to him every morning thinking of different ways to love him that day. He deserved all the goodness you could find in the earth's heart multiplied by ten. He needed someone to assure him when he doubted himself- because he usually did- someone to rub his muscled shoulder and tell him he didn't need to worry about things out of his control.
I sighed, hoping and praying to God that Elaine realized this. That she realized he wore his heart on his sleeve and was perfectly fine with it being torn into shreds.
Harry stirred in his sleep, turning onto his side facing me and mumbling something incoherent. I rolled over, taking in his peaceful sleeping face and wondering if this was the last time we could ever sleep next to each other without Elaine getting in the way.
Harry moved closer to me, resting his chin on the top of my head, my ear pressed to his chest where the melody of a steady beat rang through. And that's where I fell asleep, listening to the only thumping of anyone's blood I cared to hear.
***
“Want eggs? I know how to make those now,” I asked Harry who was just starting to open his eyes from sleep, stretching his large arms out around him.
I had woken up with my head on his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around me. Quickly, without waking him, I had slid out and went to my room to sit on my bed and think of the cold absence from where I had been folded around him. I had been awake thinking for a while now when he finally started opening his eyes.
He nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled, his voice nicely groggy from sleep, a silky melodious sound that I lived for. “yeah that sounds nice.”
I gave him a smile, loving the messiness of his hair and the droop of his eyes.
Harry shoveled plenty of my poor eggs into his mouth, he had always had an appetite and being a man didn't lessen that one bit. We lightly talked over coffee, Harry saying he wanted to look at some of the jewelry stores in town and wanted my input on rings for Elaine. I politely agreed and gave him a smile, even though it physically pained me.
Later, I tossed my hair up into a high ponytail, pulling my feet into a pair of chunky sneakers and a warm gray oversized sweater. The temperature had dropped in London and small drizzle was falling over the sidewalks.
I followed Harry down my apartment steps to the waiting taxi on the side of the street. He said he knew of a jewelry store on the edge of town where no paparazzi would bother us.
The small rain was still falling when we got out and I glanced through the glass windows to sparkling rings sitting on velvet cushions. Harry's eyes brightened as I walked in behind him into the immediate blast of the warm heater from the store.
“I don't know what kind of a ring to get her... There's so many,” he sighed, eyes passing over the diamonds in the cases.
As much as I didn't want to give my honest input, I knew he needed my help. I rubbed his arm thoughtfully, sliding my hand into the crook of his elbow to glance over his shoulder. The butterflies erupted again in my stomach, but I pushed them away. “What does she like?” I asked. “Does she want something flashy...? Thoughtful...?” I dusted my eyes over the yellow diamonds. “Unique?”
Harry looked nervous, eyes skipping from one ring to the next and before eventually shrugging.
“Looking for a wedding ring, loves?” said a balding man in a blazer walking from behind the counter. Leaning on the case in front of us, he looked between Harry and I with expectant eyes.
“Uh, yeah,” Harry told him, giving a slight chuckle. “and already failing.”
I sighed. “You're overthinking it. Don't worry too much,” I said, giving him an encouraging smile.
The man gazed over at us, a soft grin on his face. “Well, let's start with what you like, love,” he said, looking at me.
I stared at him for a second, slightly confused. Then, when it registered, I detached myself from Harry, shaking my head. “No, no, no, we aren't... together,” I said through a shaky laugh.
“She's my friend,” Harry told him, wringing his hands together.
The man nodded. “Yes, lad, so sorry. You lot just seem as if you were already married.” Gesturing to the two of us before moving on to a selection of rings. “If you see we have...”
I didn't hear what he said after that, because the thought of Harry here for me made my heartbeat impossibly fast.
It was a strange thing. Having a single moment that changed the way you looked at a person. Here I was, walking down the street with someone I've known my entire life—and here I was hoping that I would walk too close and our arms would brush just a little, just so I could feel him for a small moment.
I didn't want to feel this way. Even as his fingertips brushed mine, I knew it was wrong, but why did everything feel so natural?
Harry led us to a cafe behind a few business buildings where the rain had finally died down. He had been quiet since we had left the store empty handed. I told him if nothing immediately reminded him of her, just to sleep a night and go back tomorrow, eventually he nodded and let me drag him out for lunch.
We sat at a table outside, the slick wind slipping up and around us, raising goosebumps across my arms.
“Why didn't you wear a coat?” Harry asked, looking away from the dreary sky to my awaiting eyes.
“I didn't realize hell was freezing over,” I mumbled, crossing my arms.
He sighed and slid off his coat. “And yet, this isn't the first time I've scolded you for not bringing a coat,” he said, giving me a little smile that warmed my heart after his previous sad attitude. “Here.” He nodded toward his leather jacket.
I've lost too many arguments on this subject before, so I greedily took it and wrapped it tightly around my shoulders, breathing in his cologne.
The waiter brought out our food and I didn't hesitate to hungrily pour sauce across my fries, listening to my stomach growl in response.
A loose piece of hair glided across my face from the gentle breeze, sliding across my plate and succeeding in smearing sauce across my cheek.
I gasped. “How did that even happen?” I mumbled under my breath, grimacing as I attempted to clean my hair of the food.
Harry chuckled, taking in my disheveled appearance before leaning across the table and removing the hair from my eyes and tucking it gently away. The tips of his fingers lingered behind my ear for a second too long before he removed it to wipe away the ketchup at the corner of my mouth. His thumb gliding across my cheek.
His eyes met mine and this strange unsaid feeling drifted in the space between us like someone I've never met. The pad of his thumb resting below the corner of my lips.
He swallowed. “Why do we keep ending up in these kind of situations,” he murmured, his voice low and unlike the Harry I was used to interacting with.
I grabbed his hand, turning slightly to lay a kiss into his palm and watched for his reaction. His eyes stayed on me and flickered with something that I've never seen in him before. “I don't know,” I replied back, my voice as soft as the inside of his hand.
He sighed. “Jules, I don't know what you're doing to me.”
I furrowed my brow. “I'm not doing anything.” I didn't know what was happening between us either these past few days, but if it caused Harry to look at me like that then the confusion was worth it.
He chuckled softly. “You're so clueless,” he murmured, but then dropped his hand to continue eating, leaving me feeling electrified and wanting to know what he meant.
The day went on like that. We would talk for a bit—never about the engagement— then we would brush hands or Harry would lean into me, everything taunting me and pulling this thought out of the far corner of my mind.
We had been walking down the sidewalk towards my apartment, our boots splashing in the puddles and my hands in the pockets of Harry's coat when he looked up suddenly, nodding towards the sky.
“Look, it's a rainbow,” he smiled.
I stopped and turned towards it, the colors skyrocketing from behind a building.
“Aren't they the strangest thing?” I asked him, not taking my eyes off of it. “They are just so beautiful.”
He didn't answer and I glanced back over my shoulder to see if he was still standing beside me. He was. His eyes glued to my face as if I held every answer in the world.
“Harry, why are you staring at me?” I whispered, pink painting my cheeks.
A bright smile immediately hit his lips. “Did I just make you, Julia Rebecca Lovewick, blush?” He looked back up, a smile of pure pride beaming on his face.
“You were staring at me like there was something on my face,” I replied. “and I was just embarrassed because the waiter was really cute and I couldn’t have that.” I gave him a smirk to hide the fading blush.
Crinkles appeared onto his forehead. “You're such a quick thinker.” He shook his head, beginning to walk again.
“You think I'm lying.”
“I know you're lying,” he said.
“Besides the fact that our waiter was totally checking me out,” I replied, his eyes rolling. “Why were you even staring at me?”
It was his turn for the tips of his ears to turn rosy.
“Oh my goodness!” I yelled, covering my mouth with my hand. “Did I just make Harry Edward Styles blush?” I shrieked, mocking him and stopping to stare at his annoyed expression.
He rolled his eyes yet again and continued to walk, trying to ignore me.
“You were looking at me because I'm beautiful, weren't you?” I said, jogging to catch up with him and giving him a wink.
“I thought we established I was looking at you because you have something on your face.” He still refused to make eye contact with me.
I grabbed his arm and spun him around to face me. “Just admit it, Harry. You've been caught,” I said, giving him a smirk. “You think I'm pretty.”
“I think you're a lot of things, Jules.” He popped an eyebrow, crossing his arms.
I tilted my head, silently asking him to go on.
He threw his arms into the air. “You act like you don't know you're absolutely gorgeous!”
I smiled. “I do know,” I told him, starting to walk again. “It's just always nice to hear it.”
We climbed the steps and stopped in front of my door. Turning around to face him, I said, “You know, you are pretty fit yourself.” I gave him an eye-up sarcastically, sliding my keys into the lock to hear him fall into a fit of laughter.
We walked into my apartment, both still laughing, where I immediately pulled the ponytail from my hair and shook out my dark waves. “That feels fantastic,” I laughed throwing the rubber band across the room.
Harry walked up behind me, taking me by surprise by running his hand through the ends of my hair, the laughter still visible around his eyes. “You should really wear it down more often, I like it better this way,” he murmured, looking up to meet my eyes.
I wasn't sure, but I think Harry was flirting with me.
“And I like it when you don't shave for a couple of days,” I told him, running the back of my fingers across the line of his jaw.
He wrinkled his nose. “Really? I like it but Elaine hates it,” he said and I dropped my hand, shamefully thinking of his girlfriend.
Harry and I were just friends, that was it. So why was I walking such a thin line?
My heart was pounding as I walked into my bedroom, the ringing in my ears increasing. I could feel it. Plain as day and cutting my heart into two, I had a crush on Harry. Maybe it was because he was about to be officially taken or because of the way his hair parted gracefully down the middle. This feeling that has been passing between us today couldn't have been one sided. If I knew Harry, I knew that he was acting completely different around me as well.
I didn't want Harry to leave me. I didn't want him to marry someone and absolutely disappear out of my life. What would I do without him? I had friends that I casually talked to or caught coffee with but Harry was the only one who I shared my thoughts. The only one who cared enough to know if I disliked the smell of cinnamon or the artificial taste of bananas in candy.
My heart was sounding in my ears and an unusual discomfort eating its way through my chest. I couldn't breathe, my lungs weren't collecting air.
He couldn't marry someone, not when I've just developed this crush on him. Not when I've realized that falling in love with your best friend could be the most natural thing in the entire world.
I felt like the world was closing in on me. The walls shrinking in and molding themselves around my neck and chest cutting my oxygen off.
I heard a voice, muddled and underwater, lift to my ears. I couldn't make out the words or syllables, but he was here. I could feel it.
There was something I was clutching, a corner of a desk or maybe a bed frame... I didn't know. Everything was blurry and running together like colors on a canvas. My hand gripped into the fabric in front of my heart, almost as if to catch it if it decided to jump out.
There were hands on me, clutching and pulling me up. Pulling me through the surface of suffocation and closing walls to the fresh air of my bedroom. Back to the present.
All I could hear were the repeating words, “I've got you. You're okay. You are right here, Jules. Do you feel this? That's me. I'm real and I've got you.”
I was closed in Harry's arms, the opposite of claustrophobia taking place and the choking fear subsiding in my throat. The warm skin of his forearms pressing me to his chest where his heartbeat was pulsing.
“Listen to my voice, Jules,” he murmured, brushing his fingers through my hair. “Match your breathing to mine. Just like that.”
And I did, I focused on his words and exhaled with him before taking a deep breath. We did that for a couple of minutes, standing there in the middle of my floor wrapped tightly in his arms both of us rising and falling together.
“Are you okay?” he mumbled, his thumb brushing underneath my eyes where I felt the moisture of uninvited tears.
I nodded, shaking from the incident and because I was slightly embarrassed. “I- I don't know what happened.”
His large hand brushed up and down my back, combing his fingers through the hair near my spine. “I think you had a panic attack,” he said and let out a long breath. “Jules, you scared me to death... I didn't know what to do.”
“Whatever you did worked,” I muttered, working around the shakiness of my voice. I closed my eyes tight into his chest. “it brought me back.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around me, pressing his lips to the top of my head. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head quickly, I didn't want to feel that way again.
“Okay...” He held my cheeks gently, pulling me back to look me over. His thumbs brushed the edges of my face, his fingers following suit and caressing across the length of my cheekbone. He used his other hand to tuck my hair behind my ear.
I leaned into his open palm, taking note of the warm feeling of home it left me with.
“Jules, I...” He didn't finish what he was about to say because I was looking into his eyes and suddenly realized he was leaning towards me.
His lips pressing flush against mine, my heart fluttering towards the sky. Parting my mouth with his and fireworks taking place behind my closed eyes. Harry kissed me softly, his hands cradling my face and the strangest feeling being built inside of me.
My heart was beating too fast and I pulled gently back to catch my breath. Eyelashes fluttering open, I made contact with the dark eyes that were staring down at me, waiting for a reaction.
“Harry...” I didn't know what to say. I had just been shaking over the idea that this feeling was one-sided, that I was alone. Then he goes and does something like this...
“Don't, it's okay. I didn't mean—” he broke off and let go of my face, his hands falling limply at his side. “I was just too caught up in the moment and still shaken up over what just happened.” He took a step away from me.
I couldn't stop myself. “So you kissed me?” I didn't mean for it to sound so ungrateful, because I was still floating from the memory of his lips on mine.
He wrung his hands out, a nervous gesture he tended to do. “I'm so sorry...”
“Harry-” my voice cracked. “don't be sorry-”
“I'm going to go,” he said, and rushed out of my room.
No. I wasn't going to let him walk away thinking that I thought it was a mistake. I quickly followed him down the hallway where he was pushing his boots onto his feet in the living room.
“Let's just forget about it, okay?” he said, his back to me as he laced the strings.
“No-”
“It was a mistake, I just wasn't thinking-”
“Harry!” I yelled loud enough for him to turn around and see my angered expression. “Shut the fuck up!”
He stood across from me, the distance maybe ten feet or so but the electricity buzzing quickly through as if we were pressed together. His clouded eyes stayed on me, waiting for some kind of answer that I could provide that could solve the way we were feeling, something that could ease his pain from being with Elaine but still being able to look at me the way he is now.
But I didn't have an answer like he thought I always did, because I was new here too. So, I stood there like an idiot- just staring at him, thumping my brain for some form of words.
He sighed and gave a single nod, before grabbing his coat and turning towards the door.
It was then that everything happened in slow motion.
His hand, resting on the doorknob. My feet, walking quickly across the floor to him. Because I had realized then that I had no words to say— none at all.
I grabbed his face in my hands, turning him around to look at me. Not giving him a split second before I pushed my lips against his.
I wrote this on Wattpad when I was FIFTEEN YEARS OLD! I’m 21 now and thought this story deserved a fair chance. I tried my best to edit some, but it’s still a bit rough. Let me know what you think and if I should post the second part- HINT, the second part is already written, I just have to upload it ;)
Despite my better judgments, I ended up here in London, and I have never felt more like an idiot. The last time I spoke with Harry was 5 days ago, he was calling me out of the goodness of his heart, and I told him to promptly "Fuck Off".
Guilt is what drove me here, to another country to apologize to a boy I hardly even knew. I knew I shouldn't be here. Jessie would absolutely kill me if she discovered that I flew to the UK with the hopes of meeting up with some boy instead of I don't know... working on my album that needs to be completed within a month. My parents always did say I was more book smart than common sense smart.
Anyway, I guess it really doesn't matter how I got here or in how much shit I will be I when I get back to Tennessee, all that matters is I'm in London, where Harry is, and all I needed to do was find him... Find an international pop star, piece of cake right?
It was a bright and fairly warm September day, I walked down the street just taking in the wonderful London sights. I could see why everyone gushes over it. It really is a beautiful and whimsical place.
The best way to reach Harry would be to call him I suppose... it is a very large city. But something was holding me back. I haven't heard from him since I told him to fuck off. I haven't reached out to him either, so that is partially my fault as well. But, I have this gut feeling that he won't want to hear from me, and that just seems to rip my heartstrings out.
Taking a deep breath, I just fucking do it. I call.
Ring, ring, ring.
You've reached the voicemail box of .....
Hanging up the phone I let out a huff of air. Maybe he was busy prompting his own album. Yep, keep lying to yourself Mollie.
I looked across the street and saw there was a cute little park with a small pond. I crossed the busy intersection and went over. I sat on one of the black park benches and watched the ducks walk in lines. Small children would come over and feed the ducks every so often, making me smile. But I was almost bored to tears. So, I called again.
Ring, ring, ring.
You've reached the voicemail box of .....
And what do you know? Harry did not answer again. Frustrated this time I swiftly got up from my park bench and walked back out to the street. Harry Styles really deserved a fuck off this time around. I mean I was here simply to apologize for my drunken ways...
That's when I spotted it. Sullivan's Tavern. It was four in the afternoon, so it was an acceptable drinking time. Beer would help my frustration... So I went in.
The bar was cute with green walls and a brown bar with matching brown stools. It reminded me of my father's office back home, a very masculine vibe came off of this bar. But I didn't mind, all I wanted was a beer in my hand.
I grabbed a seat at the bar and the bartended came over with a smile and slapped the menu on the countertop in front of me. I ordered a blonde ale and began drinking happily. Half way through my beer, I spotted him. A blonde hair fellow with twinkling sea blue eyes. He had a cocky smirk, but I found it somewhat adorable. He finished off his beer. I finished off mine.
He signaled the bartender over to where he was, and ordered another beer, never taking his eyes off of mine. Once he got his beer and began drinking away, I signaled the bartender over and ordered another beer for myself. I could play this little game too.
After we both finished off our second round of beers. He flagged down the bartender again and this time the bartender came back with two beers. The blonde haired guy smiled and thanked him before picking up the two foamy drinks and walked my way before sitting down next to me.
"Hope you don't mind if I sit, thought ya could use some company."
"No, I don't mind." I smiled taking the cold drink and putting it to my lips. Not only was this guy cute, but holy shit that Irish accent is out of this world!
"Niall. Pleasure." He held his hand out for me to shake like a true gentleman.
"Mollie. Nice to meet you as well."
"I hope you don't mind me calling you out like this, but your American."
I had to laugh at this little comment, aside from my accent did I really stand out that much?
"Yes, I am. And you seem to be from Ireland?"
"Good job! Irish and proud. What's an American girl like you doing in London?"
"Just... visiting." I lied. No way was I telling this cute stranger that I was actually here trying to meet up with Harry Styles. He would think I was absolutely insane.
"Well who are you visiting with? Doesn't look like you're with anyone..." He actually turned his head to search the little pub for other people! I could feel my face getting redder by the second. How embarrassing. I look like a total freak.
"Yeah, I'm going solo for this one."
"Not a bad idea really. I'm not much of a people person myself." He nodded before taking a long and hearty swig of his pint.
"You seem to be okay at meeting new people."
"Nah. Not in the slightest. Most say I'm rude. I just thought you were cute was all."
This definitely earned a laugh and a blush. Niall was a lot more blunt than Harry had ever been.
"Well thanks, Niall. And thanks for the beer as well."
"No problem. I figured you American girls expect that and all."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean!"
"Oh yes, we know all about you American girls and your ways, just expecting us to act like someone outta a Jane Austen novel. Ya know she died many years ago?"
"I might have gotten the memo on that one, yes."
Niall laughed a hearty chuckle before throwing back the rest of his beer. He nodded down where my beer was resting. "I'm glad you're a beer drinker. That's admirable."
"Not going to lie, I'm just starting to get into it. Really wasn't a beer drinker prior to recent events..." Shit. Mollie. He doesn't want to hear about this!
"Ah. Most people do come to pubs because of said recent events." Niall nodded at the bartender, the bartender catching his signal and coming back with two more beers for us. Was I really comfortable getting drunk like this with a complete stranger? In a complete foreign town?
"I'm a pretty good listener, if it suits your fancy."
"Nah. That's okay. You don't want to hear about my little problems."
"I don't seem to have anything better to do." Niall replied looking sincerely in my eyes. Okay, there is no way that this boy did not have a girlfriend. Could he be any more perfect?
Listen to me. I must be desperate. First, Harry. Now, Niall. I really needed to get my emotions under control.
The soccer game was going on in the background on one of the two television screens in the little quaint pub. Everyone was watching, bartender included besides myself, and Niall. We were engrossed with each other.
"I'm just having boy issues." I mumbled looking down.
"Boyfriend, huh?"
"Well, no. He's actually not. I don't think he would ever want me to be his girlfriend at this point."
"Yikes. You must be crazy, then, right?"
"No! Not at all you jerk!" This boy did have a way of making me smile. A charmer this one, truly.
Then I felt a slight vibration coming from the countertop. I looked at phone and couldn't believe my eyes. His name lit up on the screen, Harry.
"Well, what are you waiting for. Answer it." Niall replied before drinking more beer and turning his attention to the game he suddenly became interested in.
"Hello?"
"Hi... I see you called." His voice was still husky, but it seemed distant. I really messed up this time around, as per usual.
"Yeah, I did. I'm glad you called back."
"Mhmm."
"Um. You'll never guess where I am."
"New York?"
I bit my lip. This is not the way I had planned for this conversation to go. What happens when I tell him where I am, he is going to think I am a crazy stalker. Maybe even one of those Lifetime movie killers. Honestly, all I wanted to do was just flipping apologize.
"Mollie, are you there?" His voice asked seeming a bit irritated.
"I'm in London..."
Silence.
"I just figured I would let you know... you don't need to come see me or anything. I just-"
"No. I'll come see you." Harry sighed.
"Oh okay."
"Where are you?"
"I'm not entirely sure... I know I'm at Sullivan's Tavern."
"Sullivan's Tavern? How in the bloody hell did you find that place?"
"I was at this park... Do you know where I am?"
"Of course. I'll be there soon."
"Okay, bye."
"Mollie, wait.... Thanks for calling." Harry responded before hanging up.
I hung up the phone feeling more hopeful than ever. Harry obviously did want to see me if he was willing to come to this little pub for me. Maybe things would work out, and we would live happily ever after, right?
Nope.
"Is your boyfriend coming then?" Niall asked with a grin.
"He is not my boyfriend." I mumbled, feeling somewhat shy now.
"Then hand me your phone." Niall replied with his flat palm stretched out waiting for my phone to be placed there.
"Um... okay?" I did. I gave this complete stranger my phone.
He took my phone, and entered his name and number. Then he flagged down the bartender and paid for our tabs. As he was getting up from his stool at the bar and he grabbed my chin, looked directly into my eyes, and whispered, "When you're ready for a good time. You know where to find me."
Listen to Here I am Tom Odell
Here I am
Running up the seventh floor
Knocking the eleventh door
I'mma sick of trying
Word Count 6.4k
‘Who’s that?’ Niall asked nonchalantly his eyes still fixed to the screen along with everyone else. Apart from Frankie, the girl Niall had been happily calling his girlfriend for around six months, not a single person looked up to her from the screen. Olivia caught Frankie’s eye as she was giving Niall her ‘are you serious’ look and they shared a knowing smile and eye roll before Olivia walked towards the door. She kicked her jogging bottoms down her ankles, the elastic had ridden up where she’d been sat cross legged and it rested uncomfortably as she walked. She took another bite of the pizza slice in her hand as she pulled the door open, expecting some telesales person that she could fob of with a confused a look and an ‘I don’t understand’ in some undeterminable accent.
‘Harry.’ Olivia spluttered with a mouthful of pizza - ever the lady. She cleared her throat and swallowed the pizza, half chewed and scratching her throat a little as it went down. ‘Thought you weren’t back until tomorrow?’ Olivia grinned widely at his surprise appearance. Harry had been away for three weeks, in America, some convention thing that he went to every year and every year came back with crazy training ideas. He was in typical Harry attire. Too skinny black jeans that didn’t leave anything to the imagination, a white t-shirt, a little see through, and brown scuffed boots. You wouldn’t think he’d recently been on an eleven hour flight or that he was a personal trainer.
Olivia had a Guinness in hand, poured into a pint glass, one from the collection that her and her friends had stolen from various pubs and bars over the years. She couldn’t remember exactly how it had started, but she was fairly certain it had begun about four years ago when Niall and Harry first walked into her life. She was also pretty sure the first one in her cupboard was the one Niall had slipped into her handbag, unbeknown to her, after a sunny Sunday drinking session. The joke had just gone on from there.
‘Oh Liv’s here, make sure you count the glasses back to the bar.’ Someone would joke and she’d laugh sarcastically. It was rarely her that stifled the glass under her jumper or in her bag until they were out of the vicinity, but it was always her cupboards the glasses ended up in. It had slowed now that her glass cupboard was bursting at the seams and she had to tell her friends to stop, but even so, every now and again, when one of them went abroad, or came across a glass they didn’t think she had they’d bring it back to hers to find a home in the collection.
She was sat on the floor of her living room, back against the sofa, Niall’s leg, jean clad, leant against her arm. The sofa had been taken up pretty quickly by Niall, Liam and Louis and as usual, being the least gentlemanly men she knew, the seats weren’t offered out to her and she found herself on the floor. It had been that way for a long time. She’d been in second year when they met, them fresh out of uni, bar Louis who had scored a sweet coaching job at the local football club before he could even apply for uni. Small student living meant minimal seating and it worked on a first come first served basis. Olivia didn’t mind so much though, sitting on the floor meant a higher chance of getting your hair played with and that scored higher than a seat on the sofa.
Sam was the only friend left out of Olivia’s uni friends still hanging around London, mainly because Tom, her boyfriend of four years, wasn’t showing any signs of packing up anytime soon. And, considering Sam was three months pregnant, Olivia felt confident she wasn’t about to lose her best friend to the charms of a calmer city like they had the rest of their uni group. Sam had managed to win a chair, being pregnant and all she had an unfair advantage. Tom was sat on the floor between her legs having his hair played with. Olivia knew it didn’t matter how much she nudged Niall to take the hint he wasn’t going to get it, not when the final of the Six Nations was on the TV and Ireland were playing England. Added to that, it was St Patrick's day, a day Niall celebrated like it was his own birthday. She didn’t stand any chance of attention, she was the last thing on Niall’s list.
They’d ordered pizza just before kick off and fifteen minutes in it had arrived. Olivia getting up to grab it quickly, taking the pool of money they’d all chipped in to pay for it. Some habits die hard, and it appeared chucking a fiver into an old KCL cap of Olivia’s for a takeaway was one of them. Harry had literally grabbed it from her head the first time it happened. She’d just arrived at Niall and Harry’s, at the time, shared apartment. She’d jogged there, but had regretted it pretty quickly, the scorching London summer making her feel like she’d run the Serengeti by the time she got to the flat.
‘We’re getting Indian Liv.’ Harry had announced as she downed a pint of water that wasn’t quite cold - she just needed to quench her thirst, she didn’t want to have to wait for the water to cool. ‘Everyone needs to chip in a fiver, we’ll put it in, this.’ He’d grabbed the hat from her head, taking one too many hairs from her ponytail with it for her liking, and it had her rubbing her head from the sting of it. But, now whenever they were all together, the cap came out, fivers went in, takeaway was ordered.
It was two minutes from halftime when the doorbell rang again. Olivia groaned and rolled her eyes. She had a mouthful of pizza as she pushed herself up from where she was sat. She didn’t put it down as she turned for the door instead holding onto it and taking another mouthful, knowing it would be nabbed by one of the still ravenous boys if she left it unattended.
‘Who’s that?’ Niall asked nonchalantly his eyes still fixed to the screen along with everyone else. Apart from Frankie, the girl Niall had been happily calling his girlfriend for around six months, not a single person looked up to her from the screen. Olivia caught Frankie’s eye as she was giving Niall her ‘are you serious’ look and they shared a knowing smile and eye roll before Olivia walked towards the door. She kicked her jogging bottoms down her ankles, the elastic had ridden up where she’d been sat cross legged and it rested uncomfortably as she walked. She took another bite of the pizza slice in her hand as she pulled the door open, expecting some telesales person that she could fob of with a confused a look and an ‘I don’t understand’ in some undeterminable accent.
‘Harry.’ Olivia spluttered with a mouthful of pizza - ever the lady. She cleared her throat and swallowed the pizza, half chewed and scratching her throat a little as it went down. ‘Thought you weren’t back until tomorrow?’ Olivia grinned widely at his surprise appearance. Harry had been away for three weeks, in America, some convention thing that he went to every year and every year came back with crazy training ideas. He was in typical Harry attire. Too skinny black jeans that didn’t leave anything to the imagination, a white t-shirt, a little see through, and brown scuffed boots. You wouldn’t think he’d recently been on an eleven hour flight or that he was a personal trainer.
‘Came back to surprise Ella.’ His voice was dull. Olivia put it down to the flight but she was a little surprised and confused as to why he was standing at her door with a suitcase and rucksack like he’d come straight from the airport. Olivia stepped aside to let him into the flat but he didn’t make to move past the threshold and inside.
‘Yet you’re here.’ She smirked, shifting her weight to one hip her cropped t-shirt exposing the naturally golden skin underneath. Harry simply nodded a little, barely enough to notice. What she could see though was the way he was biting his lips together the way he did when he had too much on his mind, and the way his knuckles were whitening around the handle of his suitcase. ‘Harry is everything ok?’ Olivia asked with a frown. Harry’s nostrils flared and the next second he was spluttering quietly through tears that seemed to come from nowhere. ‘Whoa Harry what’s wrong? What’s going on?’ His lips had parted but his nostrils were still flared as he took a deep breath in and closed his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling but it made no difference. Olivia put the half eaten slice of pizza on the phone stand by the door that was home to no phone - instead an indoor plant that was in desperate need of water and a bowl of keys.
Olivia wrapped her arms around Harry’s large frame, pulling him into her body and also her flat. His body shook with sobs and they weren’t quiet anymore. It sounded like he was choking as he cried against her. She held him tighter than she’d ever held him. She could feel his heart breaking but she didn’t know why, and she had to bite her lip to keep her own emotions back. She didn't know what it was about seeing Harry that way that tugged at her heart strings, but whatever it was, it made her feel powerless and weak.
‘Harry you need to tell me what’s happened.’ Olivia urged still holding onto Harry, who’s sobs had quietened but were still making his body tremble. She could hear his shaky breath leaving his mouth in uneven intervals accompanied by the occasional hiccup as he tried to regain a normal composure. Olivia was suddenly aware of Niall’s presence behind them, she caught the green of the Ireland rugby shirt he’d changed into out of the corner of her eye. Honestly, it was hard to miss.
‘Harry mate, what the fuck? What’s going on?’ Olivia didn’t need to see Niall’s face to know he looked as confused as she felt. It was all in his voice, but apart from that Olivia could anticipate how Niall might react to most things by that point in their relationship. ‘What’s happened?’ Niall asked looking to Olivia from Harry who's back Niall had rested his hand on in attempt to comfort Harry. Olivia had, had that attempt to comfort hand on her before. It looked like it would do nothing in making someone feel better but there was something about knowing that Niall didn’t offer it out very often that bought on a sense of relaxation. Olivia shrugged to Niall’s question as Harry calmed a little more and cleared his throat releasing himself from Olivia’s arms, thought she hesitated in taking her hands away from him completely, instead holding onto his forearms.
‘Harry, please tell me what’s up, I can’t help you if you won’t tell me.’ Olivia virtually whispered taking moving one hand down his arm gently to take one of Harry’s hands in hers, holding it afloat lightly.
‘She’s kicked me out.’ Harry choked clearly not sure of the best place to look, his glassy eyes flicking between Niall, the floor, Olivia and the ceiling.
‘What?’ Niall spat as soon as the words had left Harry’s mouth.
‘What do you mean she’s kicked you out Harry?’ Olivia asked a little more calmly and a little softer. Though Harry’s words were pretty clear they needed clarification, because what they insinuated was unbelievable to both Olivia and Niall.
‘Ella she’s changed the locks and kicked me out.’ Harry explained dully, his voice still a little uneven, looking down at his hand encased in Olivia’s much smaller one.
‘You’re fucking kidding me.’ Niall’s voice was aggressive and he spat his words like they tasted as foul as they sounded. His accent, that had faded slightly over the years, always got stronger when he was angry and that’s how they knew Niall needed to take a minute.
‘Niall shut up.’ Olivia chastised trying to remind him the state Harry was in. ‘Alright come on, come and sit down.’ Olivia tugged at Harry’s hand but he didn’t move.
‘Is everyone here?’
‘Yeah, it’s fine-’
‘No I don’t want them seeing me like this.’ Harry blubbered wiping his red face free of the damp residue that had been left behind from his crying with the heel of his hand, roughly dragging his skin. His eyes were as red and swollen as his cheeks and his lips pouted as he breathed through his mouth deeply, Olivia assumed in attempt to level out his breath that until that point shuddered and got caught in his throat with little hiccups.
‘Harry don’t be ridiculous, come on, just come in.’ Olivia turned and pulled Harry’s hand. She didn’t look to the group of friends sat in her living room as she walked past it, up the hallway to her bedroom, and she doubted Harry did either. The bed was unmade and there was a pile of dirty clothes on the floor but she sat Harry down on her mattress nonetheless. ‘I’ll just get you some water and I’ll be back.’
Olivia left Harry with Niall, perched on the bed beside each other in silence. She felt certain they wouldn’t say a word to one another until she got back with the promised glass of water, but she also felt certain just knowing Niall was there would be support enough. She took a deep breath once the door was closed behind her and took a moment for herself before wandering back towards the kitchen, back past the group of friends she could hear whispering amongst each other. Of course they’d seen the state of Harry, even if he tried to hide his face as he walked past them they’d have heard his cries at the door. Olivia gave them a passing smile before turning her back to them to reach for a glass from the cupboard - a stolen Fosters glass. Stolen by Harry.
‘What’s going on?’ Sam’s voice was quiet but Olivia didn’t know why. They both knew she’d go and report back to the others. Olivia turned to Sam. Frankie was looking over, chewing on her already bitten down nails and she could tell Louis was only pretending to look at Liam.
‘Apparently Ella’s kicked him out.’ Olivia sighed filling the glass with water from the tap, letting it run for a few seconds to get as cold as it could.
‘What?’ Sam’s voice rose and hissed the same way Niall’s had when Harry had told him the same thing.
‘I dunno Sam.’ She could hear her voice sounded frustrated but she didn’t know why and she felt a little bad for it.
‘Alright I’ll get everyone out.’ Sam suggested biting her lips together and nodding like she was thinking about how to get everyone out of Olivia’s flat without argument.
‘No it’s fine just stay for a minute he might be alright once he’s calmed down a bit.’ Olivia begged turning to Sam. Olivia knew if Harry found out everyone had left on his behalf a wave of guilt would flood in with the heartbreak and Olivia didn’t know for sure, but that certainly seemed like the last thing Harry needed.
‘I doubt it.’ Olivia knew Sam was right but she simply shrugged and pulled her lip to one side unsure what to say. Harry had proposed to Ella six months earlier, a year after they started dating. It seemed a little soon to Olivia and she knew she wasn’t the only one that felt that way but they were happy, or at least Olivia had thought they were. Now she was looking for signs she might have missed that would have told her otherwise.
Niall and Harry were still bathed in silence when she opened the bedroom door again, as she’d predicted. Harry glanced up to her from his praying hands with a sniff that made one side of his face twitch. He looked exhausted and beyond the point where talking was a good idea.
‘Here.’ Olivia handed him the glass and he choked out a gruff thanks, his voice eaten up by emotion. ‘So what happened?’ Olivia pressed with caution sitting on the bed beside Harry. Sitting up straight she looked down at his bowed head and the muscles of his back that she could see tensed through his t-shirt.
‘I got home couldn’t get in, rung the bell like 100 times, eventually she answered she handed me a bag which I assume has got most of my stuff in it, and then gave me the ring and told me to-’ Harry’s voice faded into shallow, hiccupy breaths that sounded like they stung.
‘Alright ok, it’s alright.’ Olivia rested her hand on his back gently. His skin was on fire through his t-shirt, but she saw his body shiver.
‘No it’s not fucking alright Liv.’ Harry snapped and she was a little taken back. Olivia’s breath hitched in her throat with the spite in Harry’s words and she had to bite her tongue not to snap back.
‘Harry don’t talk to her like that.’ Niall chastised but Olivia wished he hadn’t.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ Harry mumbled apologetically dropping his head again, and placing the glass of water on the floor between his feet.
‘It’s ok.’ Olivia sighed beginning to rub over his tense back and shoulders once again. She could feel where each muscle started and began, like tight hills of flesh under his skin, perfectly sculpted from years of hard work.
‘I was meant to marry her next year, she’s the one I know she is.’ Olivia believed him, anyone would if they saw them together. All smiles and hand holding, waist grabbing, single cheek pecks. Olivia tried to pinpoint a moment when it started to look different but she couldn’t find it.
‘Did she say why?’ Niall asked with less sensitivity in his voice than Olivia had. Although Harry didn’t seem to notice, Olivia did and she glared at Niall from behind Harry, though neither of them saw.
‘Just said she realised it wasn’t right and didn’t love me anymore.’ Harry mumbled still looking down at his hands. He’d taken to twisting rings around their respective fingers nonchalantly, like he wasn’t even thinking about what he was doing, like all he could really see was Ella telling him that she didn’t love him anymore over and over again. ‘How can you stop loving someone like that?’
‘I think you need to get some sleep H.’ Olivia suggested rubbing her hand up his back. Harry’s skin tickled with the contact but he prickled at the words and snapped again.
‘No Liv I need my fiance and my fucking home.’ His voice was bitter as he spat his words twisting his head only slightly towards Olivia.
‘Harry if you keep talking to her like that you’re gonna get kicked out all over again.’ Niall warned and Olivia sighed loudly her hand moving from Harry’s back to rub against her own forehead with a tightened jaw and raised eyebrows, her eyes looking down at her lap. ‘She’s tryna help, have a bit of bloody respect.’
‘I’m sorry, just my mind’s all over the place.’ Harry tried to explain. Olivia couldn’t not forgive him. She’d known Harry long enough to know that you really had to push Harry to make him bite and she also knew it wasn’t really her that had pushed him.
‘Look just have a sleep you might feel a bit more rational when you wake up.’ Harry nodded with a heavy blow of wobbly breath. Olivia and Niall stood from the bed nearly at exactly the same time. Olivia let her hand creep up Harry’s back again as she stood, squeezing his shoulder before walking away from him.
‘Liv.’ Harry called after her as Niall opened the bedroom door. Olivia turned back to him. She met his eyes again, heavy and tired. ‘Thank you.’ He practically whispered. She simply gave him a smile that was trying to say there was nothing to say thank you for, although she didn’t know if that conveyed, before she followed Niall out of the bedroom.
‘What the fuck?’ Niall’s question came as he’d closed the door behind them but they obviously had the same idea, both of them lingering outside Olivia’s bedroom. ‘Did you have any idea she wasn’t feeling it?’ Olivia shook her head thinking about the last time she’d been with both Harry and Ella.
‘Not even a little bit.’ She whispered shaking her head and chewing her bottom lip.
‘What are we gonna do? He’s got nowhere to go.’ Niall babbled but it was something that had already been running around Olivia’s mind.
‘Well he’ll have to stay here.’ Niall gave Olivia a look as if she’d just told him she planned on sacrificing her first born. Olivia shrugged before continuing to justify what she was suggesting. ‘Well you haven’t got a spare room, Sam and Tom aren’t gonna want him there with a baby on the way and Casa Tommo and Payno isn’t exactly the place you’d want to be when your fiance has just kicked you out.’
‘Are you sure?’ Niall quizzed with a look that told Olivia he wasn’t.
‘Yeah it’s fine, it’s not like it’ll be forever and it could be worse it could be you.’ Olivia winked.
‘Oi.’ Niall mocked offence and Olivia stuck her tongue between her front teeth like she did when she was teasing. Niall shook his head and let out a sharp single breath of humour. ‘Come on let’s just finish watching the game.’ Niall’s hand found Olivia’s lower back and he gave her a gentle nudge towards the living room. Eyes found them and left them quickly apart from Frankie’s who’s oceanic orbs followed Niall the whole way to his seat that he took up again, Olivia falling to the floor beside his feet. This time Niall’s hand reached down for Olivia’s long hair, taking it in his fingers and combing them through it and twisting strands around them. He knew it was comforting for Olivia and maybe that’s why he did it, but there was also comfort for him in the familiarity of sitting in front of the TV with her at his feet, playing with her hair nonchalantly.
‘Alright babe?’ Frankie asked lightly with a curious grin her bright blue eyes narrowed. Niall gave her a nod telling her silently that he’d talk about it later. If Harry wanted his dirty laundry aired he’d have to be the one to do it in Niall’s eyes, so Olivia followed suit and kept her lips tightly shut. Even when Louis followed her into the kitchen to refill her glass mid way through the second half and asked her what was going on. Niall’s watchful eyes kept her from telling him what she might otherwise have felt ok to disclose. She wasn’t a gossip, she would never have told anyone that she thought Harry might not tell himself, but Niall knew Harry better than she did. He’d lived with Harry for five years and he seemed to be telling her not to say anything so she didn’t, even though she felt they all may have an idea what was going on from what she’d divulged to Sam. She would feel safe betting money that they’d all theorized reasons why Ella had kicked him out, she wondered if any were close to the truth.
The game ended and slowly the group of friends all began to leave. Normally they might stay on for a few more drinks, maybe even all head down to O’Neills, the pub Olivia had first met Niall and his friends, for a bit of St Paddy’s night karaoke, mainly for old times sake. But there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that this year, they’d all leave before they got drunk enough to think karaoke was a good idea. Niall and Frankie were the last to leave, Frankie helping Olivia round up empty glasses, dispose of pizza crusts and fill the dishwasher with the dirtied plates. At the door Niall told her to call if she needed anything and to let him know how Harry was when he woke up. Olivia told him she would before letting them out of the flat.
The sun was long set once her flat was empty bar one guest. None of them had got up to turn on the living room lights so the bright, clinical glow of the kitchen spotlights illuminated her home. She turned them off, only leaving the light from the extractor hood on before turning on the golden fairy lights that framed the door onto her balcony along with the coffee table lamp in the corner. It felt more like home and less like the spot where a gathering of young people craving the simplicity of university years had just happened. She wanted desperately to take a shower and put her dressing gown on before falling on the sofa with a cup of Yorkshire Tea, and the latest copy of the physiotherapy magazine she’d been subscribed to since before she even started her physiotherapy degree. The shower was off the cards when Harry was still sleeping in her room so instead she opted for the second half of the plan, padding through to the kitchen to fill the kettle.
‘Hey.’ She was flicking through her phone, Ella’s Instagram to be truthful, when Harry made himself known.
‘Oh Harry, how you feeling?’ Olivia’s voice was high pitched and a little too jovial as she closed the app and turned to Harry. She cleared her throat when she took him in. His jeans were still on but he’d taken his t-shirt off. That wasn’t abnormal Harry behaviour he was often running around half clothed, in fact she counted her blessings he’d put his jeans on but she did wonder if he’d slept in them and had to clear her throat again at the thought of his simply boxer clad body in her sheets. That moment wasn’t the time for those thoughts.
‘Bit better.’ He told her with a weak smile.
‘Don’t lie.’ Olivia chided but Harry simply shrugged so she decided to leave it there for now. ‘Are you hungry? Do you want a cuppa?’
‘Just a cuppa would be nice.’ Harry asked with a weak smile.
‘Sure you’re not hungry, you need to eat H.’
‘Don’t mother me Liv.’ Harry cautioned and despite the clipping of her name she knew he was serious.
‘Sorry.’ She breathed taking another mug from the cupboard, not stolen, and dropped a teabag in it. ‘Do you wanna talk?’ She asked still facing away from him, not blaming him if he didn’t want to but not thinking it best to skirt around the subject too much longer.
‘Not sure what there is to say really.’ Harry admitted leaning against the worktop adjacent to where Olivia was stood.
‘Have you thought about what you’re going to do?’ Olivia queried thinking back to the conversation Niall and her had, had outside her bedroom door. She was more than willing to welcome him into her flat but if he had other plans she didn’t want to force the idea on him.
‘Guess I’ll have to go back to mum’s.’ Harry muttered with a shrug. It wasn’t a secret that that was the last thing he wanted to do.
‘What?’ Olivia’s voice had risen and she cleared her throat yet again when Harry furrowed his brow at her.
‘Well I can’t stay in London with nowhere to live.’ He explained to which Olivia shook her head not quite believing he really thought his friends would rather see him move back to Cheshire than have him at their homes for a while, or however long it took for him to find somewhere more appropriate to live.
‘Harry you can stay here.’ Olivia stressed not breaking the eye contact between them.
‘No I can’t that’s not fair on you.’ Harry debated shaking his head and looking down at his feet, leaning further back on his hands that were curled around the edge of the worktop. She watched his triceps twitch as they took the weight of his body from his feet that were up on his heels.
‘I’ve got a spare room it’s fine.’ She urged standing tall as the kettle clicked off the boil, the sound of the water bubbling inside the only noise for a few seconds as she turned to it. ‘I’m not letting you give up everything you’ve worked for down here cause she’s kicked you out, you’re staying here.’
‘Are you sure?’ Olivia could hear the timidness in Harry’s question and she couldn’t help but lift the corners of her mouth a little.
‘One hundred percent sure.’
‘Thanks.’ He sounded relieved and she felt it.
‘No problem.’ She muttered putting the kettle back on its base and moving for the fridge and the pint of milk that was nearly empty. ‘I’ll require that Sea Bass of yours once a week though.’ Olivia declared like the reason he was staying with her was forgotten.‘Oh and marmite chicken.’
‘Right ok.’ Harry chuckled. It was clear that he had relaxed a little more with the ease of their conversation.
‘How you feeling though?’
‘Shit.’ He admitted and any steps they’d taken away from his deflation were retraced even quicker. ‘She won’t even answer my calls.’
‘Do you think it’s definitely over, like there’s no going back?’ Olivia stirred the tea bags in the mugs letting them stew for a few minutes, turning back to Harry as she questioned him.
‘Seemed pretty final, I mean I’ve got the engagement ring in my bag.’ Harry informed her nodding his head towards the bedrooms up the small hallway where his bag was sat on her bedroom floor, at the end of her bed, she assumed still untouched.
‘Did she give you all your stuff?’
‘No.’
‘Well she’ll have to talk to you eventually, you’re gonna have to get your stuff back.’ Olivia instructed him possibly a little too forcefully. Harry looked back at his feet, now flat on the cheap wood effect plastic flooring that really needed replacing. Olivia watched as he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth his hand moving to the nape of his neck and rubbing the skin there.
‘I don’t know if I want to go round there.’ Harry’s voice was quiet, as if it was a secret he needed desperately to keep. He raised his eyes to Olivia his hand still on his neck
‘I’ll come with you if you want? Or we could ask Niall.’ Olivia suggested comfortingly, dropping her head to one side.
‘I’d prefer if you came.’ Harry told her just as quietly as he’d told her he didn’t want to go back to his old home. She could understand why. It was the place he’d proposed, the first house that wasn’t rented with a friend, the first house he’d turned into a home, full of memories of the start of something that seemed like it would never see completion now.
‘Ok, well you just let me know when you’re ready and we’ll go over.’ Olivia told him with a sweet smile. She turned back to the mugs, the tea nearly the colour of tar now. She pulled the teabags out and stirred as she added the milk.
‘Thanks.’ Harry whispered barely audible over the sound of the spoon hitting the mug as she stirred and scraping the bottom of it.
‘No worries.’ Olivia lifted one mug to her mouth and took a sip. ‘I’ll just go make up the spare bed.’ She told him handing him the other mug, a little stronger than her own, just how he liked it.
‘Thanks Liv.’ Harry repeated in less of a hushed tone. Olivia simply shook her head and smiled, like she had when she left him in her bedroom to sleep. It looked like he had slept, he looked less like something from a disaster movie stood in her kitchen, shirtless and bathed in an orangey glow from the extractor hood light. She didn’t need his thanks, didn’t want it really. She was only doing what any decent friend would do, she was certain Harry would do the same if the roles were reversed. Though she couldn’t see that being on the cards anytime soon. She hadn’t had a relationship of any real meaning since long before she met Harry and Niall. She didn’t really think she wanted one though, so she didn’t dwell on it. She’d been seeing someone for about two months but when he’d asked what she wanted for her birthday she knew it was time to call things off. That was feelings territory and she wasn’t in that place. That was vulnerability and she couldn’t see herself ever being in that place.
The small double bed in her spare room, that had been her treatment room until she’d been able to afford a space in a building that she could dedicate entirely to physio and sports therapy, was unmade. It had been that way since her brother’s visit three weeks previous. He was in London for work, normally based in Edinburgh and too tight to book a hotel when his darling little sister had a spare room. It would have been fine if he’d not bought Felicity with him. He did though, and she moaned about the pokey flat and the small bed and the lack of organic milk in Olivia’s fridge. Olivia bit her tongue and flared her nostrils for the whole three days, not biting back, the way her parents had raised her but she knew Ed could see it in her face and he gave Olivia a warning glare every time she tightened her jaw, which was nearly everytime Felicity opened her mouth. She’d washed the sheets when they left, normally she might have left them until she knew she had a visitor coming but she supposed it was lucky she hadn’t now.
Olivia was shaking a little when she shook the folded duvet cover out, her fingers twitching subconsciously and unstoppably. She’d never seen Harry in the state he was in before. She’d seen him cry, he cried at sad movies and at Comic Relief, but she’d never seen him cry like he’d cried in her arms in the doorway of her flat. And more than that she was the one holding him while he did it. It put her on edge and made her feel a little off kilter. She had that feeling in her stomach like she used to get before sitting an exam. The unknown. What if she couldn’t answer the question even if she’d been studying like a woman possessed, or what is she didn’t understand the question or got things muddled? What if she couldn’t really help Harry the way he needed? What if she couldn’t understand, couldn’t even pretend to understand? Because she really couldn’t.
She folded the duvet back so it was like a little pocket of comfort for Harry to sink into. She’d puffed the old, saggy pillows up as best she could and flicked the bedside light on for him for when he decided it was time to call it a night. She wondered how he’d sleep, if he’d sleep. His first night alone, not just alone as in there was no one in his bed, but without the person who had become the other half of him. Not the better half, not to Olivia, but the other half nonetheless.
“All sorted I put your bags in that room.’ Olivia announced her mug of tea, much cooler now, in her hands as she wandered back to the living room where Harry was sat on her sofa. He looked relaxed, at ease which was a reassuring sight. He had his own mug in one hand and she could hear his rings scratching at the china as he moved his fingers.
‘Oh thanks you didn't have to do that.’ Harry returned his eyes following her. Olivia shrugged again, it was another of those things that she didn’t really need thanking for. She fell down onto the sofa next to Harry taking a mouthful of her tea before resting it on her knee. Harry’s eyes were still trained on her and she twisted her head to look at him properly. His hair had got so long since they’d first met but he’d tied the tumbling ringlets, that she envied, up into a knot at the back of his head. It showed off the strong jaw structure that she still couldn’t help swooning over quietly to herself sometimes.
‘What you doing on that?’ Olivia asked nodding to the unlocked phone in his other hand, resting on the arm of the sofa casually.
‘Nothing.’ Harry responded sharply, locking his phone and laying it flat on the arm rest.
‘Not on her social media?’ Olivia asked quietly and she saw Harry swallow his eyes staring into the mug of tea that Olivia could now see was virtually empty. ‘Don't do that you'll only make it harder for yourself.’ She admonished with a sigh. Harry was chewing at his cheeks, at his lip and Olivia knew he was on the verge of breaking down again.
‘Don't think it can get much harder.’ His voice was quiet but higher pitched than it might normally be. The tears that followed literally fell from his eyes to his knees, his head hung over himself as he started to sob enough to make his body jolt violently. Olivia could feel her heart breaking in two as she watched Harry’s shatter all over again. Olivia put her tea down and moved closer to Harry wrapping her arms around his bare torso, his skin burnt her but she held him tightly to her anyway, tucking his head under her chin like he was a child. He cried like a child who had fallen from his bike and grazed his knees, got gravel stuck in his hands, sobbing from the sting of it. His body rattled and all she could do was smother him with an embrace that she wasn’t even sure helped. She pulled him back onto the couch his weight trapping her there but she didn’t mind, she’d keep him there like that for as long as he needed, for as long as it took. Olivia didn’t say a word, she didn’t even hush him, she just held him, one hand holding onto his head, his hair a little greasy, the other wrapped as far around his broad upper body as she could manage. They didn’t say a word, the only sound echoing around the place was Harry’s cries.
Slowly, they lessened. Slowly he became quiet and the sobs turned to sniffs and little hiccups. Slowly they turned to deep, gentle breaths. Slowly they turned to deep inward breaths and quiet outward wheezes. He was asleep. He was asleep on her and she couldn’t move. She closed her own eyes and let her breathing even out with his. Her mind wandered as she let sleep take over. It wandered to the last time they were tangled up in each others bodies like they were then. On Niall’s couch wrapped in each other, a cloud of bliss over them. It was a little different but entirely the same.
PREVIOUS | NEXT
Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of this, please let me know what you think. I loved all your messages about the Prologue. I’d love to hear what you think of Harry and Olivia and all the others and where you think it’s going from here?
As per, all the thank you’s and love to @harrysmeadow and @cuddlemusclestyles because they are the bomb! They’ve read these chapters so many times already and continue to double check them before I post them for you. You should deffo check out their pics, Held and Tell Me, because they are incredible writers and what they’re working on at the moment is fantastic stuff.
If you’re trying to get tickets today or tomorrow I wish you all the luck and if you’re going to London hopefully see you there!
