#And it was my best option after leaving Whitney and now I feel stuck

[downfallofi]

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[plus-size-reader]

Flyers

Clay Miller x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2247 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Going out with Clay to help look for Whitney and bonding with him in a way that you never have before

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You had known the Miller family all your life and you would do anything for them. That meant that when Whitney went missing, you were the first person to volunteer to help find her. 

...And Clay wasn’t going to argue. 

If nothing else, he would be glad to have the company, especially after he just lost his mother too. The entire family was falling apart but you wanted Clay to know that he wasn’t alone. 

You were going to find Whit if it was the last thing you did-and you could promise him that. 

Now all that was left to do was actually head out and hope that someone had seen her. So far everyone within miles of the campsite told Clay that they didn’t know anything but you’d always been rather persuasive. 

You were confident that if anyone could track her down, it was you. 

The wind brushed past your face aggressively from your place on the back of Clay’s bike but you didn’t mind. You hadn't felt this free in what felt like forever. 

In fact, you hadn’t felt this good since the last time you went for a ride with Clay during spring break senior year. That had been such a good time and you only wished you weren’t doing it again under such terrible circumstances. 

However, as much as it sucked, you were confident that Whitney was out there. She had probably just gotten lost in the woods, like so many others often did. 

She never would have missed her mother’s funeral unless she had a good reason. Clay knew it, and so did you so it didn’t matter if the cops wanted to help or not-you would find her yourselves. 

“Let’s stop here for a sec” he suggested, yelling back to you over the sounds of the road. You only nodded, having no problem at all with that. 

You had a saddlebag full of flyers with her face printed on them and you needed to put them someone where. A gas station may be the perfect place to start-seeing as it would bring in more traffic than just townsfolk. 

Far more people would see it then, besides you weren’t going to say no to a chance to stretch your legs. 

The little bell above the door chimed to life when Clay shoved it open, your own frame hidden behind his own as you entered the small business. 

With any luck, you could plaster Whitney’s pretty face all over this joint and be on your way. 

“I’m gonna grab some waters while you talk to him, ‘kay?” you hummed, gently brushing your hand over his arm to alert him before making your way down the closest isle. Who knows how long you’ll be on the road before you find somewhere else to stop? 

Clay only nodded, approaching the counter with only one thing in mind. He was glad to have your company, or else he probably would have gone insane by now. 

No one in this town had any idea where his sister went and they weren’t exactly being the most accommodating when it came to finding her. It was like everyone knew something that they just weren’t going to share. 

However, before he could really get into the thick of what he was meant to be asking the clerk, some douchebag made it his personal business to run his mouth. 

Which meant that when you came back from the cooler section, you were greeted by an obviously pissed Clay and some strangers, likely the cause of the tension. 

“I was gone for two minutes” you whispered to Clay, doing your best to read his expression. You had no idea what had happened but it couldn’t have been good. 

...It was tense. 

“Well apparently I’m an asshole” he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the blonde, who had taken his place in line by this point. It was almost hard to believe the nerve of some people. 

All you could do was roll your eyes, before you took the flyer from his grip and made your way over to the door. “Screw them, let’s just go” you decided, holding the door open for the tall male to pass before following. 

You had a mission to complete and you didn’t have to care about some random prick. However, before you moved on completely, you stuck one of the flyers to the back of their car. 

If they were going to scare away one of your options, they would just have to provide some free publicity for your cause. 

“Don’t worry about them, we’ll find her Clay” You assured, joining him on the motorcycle, holding tightly to his muscular middle. It was meant to make him feel better but more than anything, it was for you. 

You knew that it would destroy Clay if you didn’t find Whitney, and you weren’t prepared for how hard it would be to pick up the pieces. 

...As much as you loved him. 

Doing everything you could to support him in finding her was different than helping him mourn. It had been bad enough when his mom died, but this would kill him. 

Clay and Whit had been inseparable since they were kids, but he’d always regretted leaving home. He was seventeen, and you couldn’t blame him but he hadn’t gotten over it. 

After all, he felt guilty enough when his mom died but this would be even worse. 

“Thanks” he shrugged, turning as best he could from where he was sitting to look you in the eyes. You had no idea what he was thanking you for but all you did was nod. 

This whole thing had been hard for both of you but it meant a lot to him that you would put your life on hold to be there with him. 

...It was more than anyone else was doing. 

“Don’t mention it, now what do you say we start checking out  houses by the lake?” you suggested, hoping that people closer to where Whit and the others had gone camping. 

It was as good a place as any to start. 

Crystal Lake was about as exciting as any other lake in any other small town as far as you were concerned. There was nothing distinctive about it, nothing that you couldn’t decipher as unique. 

Still, you didn’t really know much about forests or lakes in the first place. 

“It’s really pretty out here, huh?” you allowed, the leaves and sticks crunching under your feet as you walked. Clay thought it best if you took the trail by foot, but you were regretting his decision right now. 

At least on the motorcycle, you didn’t have to work up a sweat just to get where you were going. 

“Yeah, it’s nice” the tall man agreed, walking alongside you with much less trouble. It was hard for him to process given the circumstances but he was doing his best to keep his head up. 

You had a point. 

Getting down in the dumps wasn’t going to help either of you find Whitney. Besides, it was a pretty nice view. It had been a long time since you two had been able to spend time together like this and it was nice, even with the underlying upset. 

At least you were here with him. 

It’s too bad we don’t have time for a swim” you commented absentmindedly, looking down into the clear water. It was inviting enough as it was but with the heat, it seemed to look that much better. 

Though, before you could really consider jumping into the lake and not looking back, you heard loud laughter coming from behind the trees. 

...A lake house. 

It was pretty close to where Whit and the others had been camping, so maybe they had seen something. You just had to hope that was the case, at least for now. 

You and Clay seemed to have had the same idea too because when you spun around to catch his eye, he was already looking at you. 

It was as good a place as any to check in on. 

Although maybe that idea would have followed through better if the person on the other side of the door hadn’t been that girl from the gas station. If she was here, that meant that asshole was likely around here too. 

“Can I help you guys?” she asked, smiling brightly at Clay, though she hardly looked at you. You were used to it. Traveling with someone as good looking as he was, you couldn’t blame her especially not in comparison to what you looked like. 

Besides, it was hard to focus on that with the cloud of jealousy that surrounded you as she spoke. It was odd but you couldn’t help it. 

Still, you knew that you had to keep a level head about you. This was for Whitney, and you had to keep that in mind. If this girl could help you find her, then you’d just have to put up with her ogling your best friend. 

“We were down at the rest stop when your friend interrupted. We’re actually trying to find my friend. This is Clay, I’m Y/N. Have you seen her? This is Whitney” you started, showing her the poster you had been holding. 

It was important that she really thought this through.

“She’s my sister” Clay interjected, earning a small smile from her as she looked at the piece of paper you passed her. 

In truth, Jenna had no idea who she was, or what could have happened to her but she felt bad about what had happened with Trent and the fact that you two were clearly desperate, she didn’t want to just send you away. 

So, she did the only thing she knew to do.

She invited you in. 

“Come on in. I’ll see if anybody knows anything” she suggested, knowing that they wouldn’t but it would get you out of the heat for a while and maybe you’d like something to drink or something. She just didn’t want you to leave empty handed. 

Now, you weren’t super sure about abandoning your mission for some girl but then again, it had been three days already and if Whitney was out there, a few minutes wouldn’t make a difference. So, after checking with Clay for conformation, you nodded. 

“She and her friends were on a camping trip and the cops aren’t being much help in finding her” you commented, following the much smaller girl into the house. It was pretty nice but you weren’t surprised. To have a lake house around here, you had to have a good chunk of cash. 

Jenna only nodded, gesturing to the fridge as soon as she’d closed the door behind both you and your much larger friend. “Can I get you guys anything? Beer, Water? We have whatever you need” she assured, knowing you must have been out there for a while. 

“They’re okay” 

A fourth voice interjected, resulting in all of you turning to find the source of the sound, Trent. He gave his girlfriend a single look of disapproval before turning toward you and Clay. “Did you follow us here?” he wondered, venom dripping from his lips. 

You almost scoffed at what he was suggesting but kept it to yourself. Why would you need to follow him? He couldn’t have been less helpful at the rest stop so you were sure that he would be no more helpful right now.

...And he was quick to prove you right. 

“Look, we’re just looking for somebody and then we’ll get out of your hair. Can you help us or not?” you interjected, knowing that if you let Clay answer his question, it would escalate quicker than necessary. 

Though, you were sure that it was going to escalate either way, because this guy was just an asshole all around. He smirked slightly as you spoke, turning his attention to you without missing a beat. Almost immediately, his expression changed. 

“You’re gonna find them yourself? Just the two of you?” he laughed, looking between both you and Clay with an amused look branded on his face. It might have been funny to him, but to you, it was a matter of life and death. 

The cops weren’t doing anything to help her but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still out there. It just meant that you and Clay had to work that much harder to find her. 

“They clearly don’t know where she is. Let’s just go” you pleaded, your voice leaving your throat in a huffy sort of manner. You had already wasted enough time here and it was obvious that no one was going to help you find Whitney. 

At least, not here. 

Clay looked between you and the stranger before making up his mind, taking the door in his hand and your spare one in the other. You had a point, and if you were going to find Whit as soon as possible, you couldn’t afford to waste time here. 

“Come on, we should be able to make it back to the bike before the sun goes down” he shrugged, swinging your hand with his own and smiling at you as best he could to calm your quickened pulse. You were angry, having been treated so trashy by those people. 

Of all the things you needed that didn’t even make the list, and Clay knew it just as well as you did. 

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

two years too late, chapter f i v e (wc: ~10k)

The basement was covered in champagne--which Jessie wasn’t pleased about when you followed her down the stairs with Harry in tow. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Adam!” Jessie surveyed the room, just as drunk as the rest of them, but clearly more annoyed. It was dripping down the walls, seeping into the carpet and the cushions of the sofa--you felt bad for whoever planned on crashing there.

“It was him!” Adam pointed at Jake, who had a foamy lather on his face and a smirk on his lips. 

“Was not!”

“It was Jake,” Bryn said, her finger pointing to him quickly--Harry giggled behind you as he took in the scene. 

You didn’t quite have all the patience in the world for the shenanigans right now, seeing as you’d just heard some of the most earth shattering news ever spoken. You hadn’t imagined it, right? That was your first thought.

A dream, for sure. One you’d wake up from and wonder what on earth had gotten into you, thinking something like that was realistic. You’d head to work and keep it all a secret, grabbing coffee in the afternoon with Whitney or Carly. 

But as you blinked, suddenly feeling more drunk than before and more annoyed by Jake and Adam than ever, you realized it was real and you were here and he’d just said those words. 

“Alright, well one of you go get a towel for Christ’s sake,” Jessie turned to look at Harry, he bounded up the stairs in a matter of seconds, letting you breathe easier as soon as he was out of the room. 

“Uhm, we have a crisis,” you said quietly, your voice almost stuck in your throat as you watched Jessie head for the bottle of champagne that had been dropped on the ground--its contents spilled out in front of it like a wounded soldier. 

“M’aware, Y/N, can you fucking help?”

“No, I mean,” you started to speak but Adam cut you off.

“Relax Jessie it’ll dry.” He tried to swat her hands away from it, she gave him a quick shove. He toppled over, gaining a laugh from Jake who still had champagne on his cheeks.

“I didn’t try to shake it so hard but then the cork popped off,” Jake bit out through laughter, but Jessie wasn’t listening. She fluttered around the room, ripping the cushions from their homes and placing them on the floor, as if that was going to do something. Harry reappeared with two towels at the foot of the stairs, Bryn took one from him quickly to work on the cushions, tiny helpless creatures and she was their doctor. 

Adam hoisted himself up from the carpet. “This couch is older than we are--I doubt your parents will even care.”

It felt like you were all suddenly 15--rushing to dispose of the evidence before someone came home to find you wasted and passed out on the floor after a good old game of truth or dare. Harry stood beside you, looking down after a few seconds passed.

“You okay?”

“Yeah--just, kind of drunk I guess.” 

It wasn’t necessarily false. The rush and the excitement made the alcohol content in your blood nearly double, it felt. You looked back up at him, but he pulled his gaze away before your eyes could meet. 

Did you pull him aside? Bring it up and confess and discuss and hope to god that this time would be better than the last?

“Okay,” Adam picked up the bottle on the ground and threw it in the bin, stepping over the spill before he looked at the two of you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you both spoke, your voice higher than Harry’s. 

Adam pulled his head back, alarmed by your new ability to speak in unison. “Well, I need food. So are we eating what your parents have, Jess, or are we going out somewhere?”

Bryn let out a groan at that. “I am not trudging through the cold right now--and no where’s open anyway.”

“We can just get take out,” Jessie offered. “I’m not letting you lot ruin my parents house and eat their food.”

You rifled through a drawer in Jessie’s parents’ kitchen while she finished cleaning up, ranking best Chinese food to worst kebab in town with Jake over your shoulder. “Let’s just do Fortune City,” he said, reaching for the red and green pamphlet.

He opened it up and used his finger to trace down the menu, Harry walked into the room and offered a smile. “Oh let’s get that spicy dish we got that time,” he stared over Jake’s shoulder, eyes scanning the page.

Jake scoffed, “right, that one.”

“You know, when we went last--” he cut himself off, eyes flashing to you before Jessie walked into the kitchen, a grimace on her face from the cleaning she’d done.

“Hung out?” You finished his sentence for him, Jessie stopped in her tracks when you continued. “When you all hung out without me? And lied about it?”

Harry’s eyes seemed to drift around the room, silently hoping someone else would step in to save him. “You--you know?”

“She blabbed the other night after a few drinks,” you pointed a thumb to Jessie, wisps of blonde hair matted to her face from sweat. “It’s fine. Whatever.”

You weren’t that mad. You’d had enough time to process their lying and shitty behavior and while you didn’t like it, you understood. Which didn’t mean that you wouldn’t hold it over their heads for the rest of your lives. Harry was too freaked out, though, to realize that you weren’t all that upset. 

“We just had dinner, was no big deal, really.”

“I don’t care,” you said, your voice monotonous as you pushed the feelings down. Maybe there’d be a time when you’d tell him it hurt, but it certainly wasn’t right now, in the kitchen at Jessie’s in front of everyone. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew?”

“She said she doesn’t care!” Jessie snapped at him, whacking him on the shoulder as she took the menu from his hands. “Can we just order and not spend more time rehashing that stupid night?”

Everyone’s eyes landed on yours, except Jessie’s. She was too busy perusing the options to realize that she’d spoken her harsh words in front of both of you--something that hadn’t ever happened. 

Sure--there’d been plenty of conversations between you and Jessie and Bryn and Adam and Jake. Plenty between all five of you. Just like--you assumed--there had been at least some between the five of them. But you hadn’t quite gotten to the place yet of talking about it with both you and Harry present in the room. 

Bryn, with a heart of gold and a knack for sensing when you were about to lose your shit, spoke up quickly. “I’m calling now so tell me what you want or you’re not getting fed.”

“Lo Mein!” Adam shouted quickly, rushing over to stand next to Bryn as the phone rang,  thankful for a break in the tension.

Harry, whose eyes were still on you, didn’t even smile when you met his gaze. 

**

You felt Bryn’s foot kick you in the head--the best alarm money could buy. The sounds of breathing filled the room as you opened your eyes, the sun seeped through the curtains someone had tried to pull shut to preserve slumber. 

Everyone was scattered about on the floor--legs tangled with arms and blankets strewn about. Empty food containers sat on the coffee table as you extracted yourself from Bryn’s feet.  

“Hi,” a whisper from across the room. Of course, Harry peered back. You were surprised he  stayed the night, wasn’t he used to sleeping on california kings, not shabby carpet? 

“Hi,” you cleared your throat and squinted, the morning light still harsh for tired eyes. Adam stirred on the couch and let out a heavy sigh, fast asleep as you took three steps out of the slumber party circle. 

“Don’t even remember drifting off,” he said, his voice still husky and deep from sleep.

You nodded. It had been a blur: the food came, grabbing chopsticks and fighting over forks. Seated in a circle in the living room upstairs, the television muted in the background as various other cities rang in the New Year. Adam threw a noodle at you that lodged itself on your  forehead, prompting a slew of photos.

“You want to go--go get some food or something?”

Your eyes fell to the rest of your friends, scattered on the floor as if they’d fallen one by one in a battle. “Should we just leave them?”

A quiet laugh, his eyes scanned the room but then met yours again. “I think they’ll live.”

So you both stood and used the bathroom, pulling on shoes and coats before stepping into the morning air, crisp and clean. Clouds danced from your lips even inside his car that had been parked in the driveway overnight, he rubbed his hands together in front of the vent when the warm air blew. 

“Happy New Year,” he said, peering at you sideways as the car moved in reverse down Jessie’s long drive.

“Happy New Year,” you said. “Listen, about what you said last night--”

“No, Smalls, you don’t have to--”

“I just didn’t know--”

“It’s probably best we leave everything from years past in years past, right?”

“Huh?” You turned to look at him now, the side of his face was red from the cold air. Trees passed by the window as you drove, the tiny town coming into view when he pulled up to an intersection. 

His words sounded different than the ones you were used to speaking. Forget it, you’d said. Forget the words and the feelings and the nervous laughter that spilled from your lips and the tears from your eyes. Forgetting was different than leaving things completely in the past. 

“I just feel like I’ve been bringing it up a lot and you clearly--you don’t want to live in the past. Annie’s?”

“Sure,” you nodded--consenting to the local breakfast joint with an amazing fry up, mouth still parted as if words would crawl out any second. But they didn’t, they stayed in your chest, wrapped around your lungs like ivy on an old house. 

So it was his words that stayed--floating in the air between you as you tried to break free from their hold. Left blinker, down London Road, you wondered how many other people were up this early on a holiday. 

“So, s’2018. Let’s start fresh.”

You could have said it. You could have told him all the things you’d rehearsed in your head over  the years. You could have confessed and admitted it all and hoped for the best. But instead, you hopped out of the car and followed him inside Annie’s--the warmth and the smells swirling around you when the overhead bell chimed to alert others of your entrance. 

You ate in relative peace, only interrupted once for a photo and twice by the waitress who remembered Harry from before the band. He drove you home and promised to see you in a day or so--after all, he’d booked you both on the same flight back to New York. 

But a lot stood between you and New York. In fact, the city that never sleeps felt a lot more out of reach, like there was more than an ocean between you. Maybe it was Harry’s words, his presence, even. Maybe the fact that he was back made you feel like New York wasn’t just your city. What had once been the hiding place for a broken heart was suddenly shared territory. 

But for now, it was just the green door to your house standing between you and warmth. When you keyed in, wiping your feet on the same bristled doormat your family’d had since 2009, you were met by your parents in the living room--they sat in robes in front of the telly, cups of tea in their hands. 

“Morning, lovie,” your mum looked up from the telly, her readers slipping down her nose as she smiled up at you. “How was your night?”

“How hungover are you?” Your dad laughed as you shut the door, earning an eye roll from your mother. At least you didn’t have to hide it--gone were the days of sneaking home from Jessie’s before they were up and pretending like all you’d done the night before was play a game of telephone and drank chocolate milk. 

“M’not, really. Tired, but, it was good.”

“Who brought you home?”  She stood from the couch to walk towards you, a voice spoke from the telly as your dad stared down at the paper on his lap. 

You shrugged out of your jacket after she hugged you. “Harry.”

“Hm.”

“Hm what?”

She shook her head, immediately feigning innocence as she made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Mum,” you whined, following behind her as your dad pushed himself off of the couch with a grunt. 

“Just seems like he’s being awfully sweet to you, is all. The plane tickets, rides home. Nice that he’s spending so much time with you all--and, with you, obviously.”

Your parents knew all about it. Not that night, necessarily.  They knew vaguely that something embarrassing happened. S’fine, lovie, your mum had said. Let’s have some tea and you’ll forget all about it. You wished. 

She knew that you’d had feelings for him, the kind that were hard to get rid of when his face was on magazines and when his songs haunted the radio. They both knew that you were mad that he’d left and bitter about the fact that keeping in touch apparently wasn’t on his list of things to do as a famous celebrity. 

But they didn’t know the full story--few people did. It was too much to tell your parents and too much to repeat for the fourth time in the quick 24 hours after it had happened, each word pulling more out of you. First you’d told Jessie, Jake, and Adam. The back booth at Annie’s, only three away from where you sat this morning. Coffee cup in hand. Then Bryn in her bedroom that afternoon. Then your sister, Katie.

Your mum filled the kettle and put it on, turning to face you as your dad found a seat at the island. “He told me he always thought we’d be good together.”

Both of their faces went still, hesitation mixed with excitement, peppered with confusion. The stairs creaked around the corner, your sister seemed less than thrilled by the noise that floated up from the kitchen, obviously waking her up.

“Welcome home, loud mouth,” she greeted, earning a flick from your mother as she passed by. 

“Katherine,” she chastised with laugh. “Be nice.”

“Wait--so what else did he say?” Your father was still a few steps back, leaning against the door frame from the living room, the newspaper now rolled up beneath his arm. “Did you, you know, talk about anything?”

Katie peeled a banana and pulled up a stool. “What did I miss?”

“Harry likes your sister!” your mum nearly squealed with excitement, her hands clasping together in front of her heart. 

“What?” Katie asked, her jaw nearly dropped, banana in hand. “He said that?”

“No,” you corrected, waving a hand at your mother to dismiss her, embarrassed by her excitement and her misinformation. “He said he thought we’d be good together. Big difference.”

There was a difference. His words technically didn’t mean that he currently had feelings or maybe even ever did. Maybe he meant that he thought you two could tolerate each other--the way you had to if you were going to marry someone and spend 50 years with them. 

“And you didn’t tell him you’ve been in love with him since you were, like, 12?” Katie stared at you like you had three heads. 

“No,” you said. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Your dad took a few steps closer. 

“Okay I don’t need everyone up my arse about it, okay?” 

“Language,”  your mother warned. 

You let out a dramatic groan. It was barely half past eight and you hadn’t had a minute to yourself. First it was Harry and breakfast and now them. You didn’t have time to even process  what he’d said or what it meant and your attempt for clarification in the car only left you more confused. And on top of that, you were 23. You could say arse if you wanted. You also didn’t owe it to any of them to explain where things stood between you and Harry. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to say to him or what any of it means but I’ll keep you all updated. Good?”

“Relax, Y/N,”  your mother turned to the kettle when it whistled. “He’s been your friend forever--you’ll figure it all out.”

**

The first thing you did after you climbed the fourteen steps to your childhood bedroom that morning was call Alyssa. You knew she’d have your head if you didn’t keep her up to date, so while you spoke with feigned annoyance and distaste at his words, you were doing your best to keep the butterflies locked inside your ribcage. 

Alyssa swore that this was good. He’d never say that if he seriously thought you were annoying or obnoxious or whatever. Her smile was big but her excitement was bigger, she made you promise to tell him she said hi and she counted the days until you’d be home before she let you hang up. Three.

You used the afternoon to recover from the night: Netflix on the couch with your sister, a homemade meal of your mum’s. Dad’s famous Yorkshire pudding and even a game of scrabble before bed. 

Katie--a third year at the University of Manchester--saw your parents more than you did. Drives home were easy and regular, seeing as her boyfriend of three years lived two streets over. So being home was a little bittersweet, it was every time. You loved New York and you didn’t even mind the way it smelled (except in the summer on rubbish collection days), but being home in the warmth of your own house with your parents down the hall felt soothing. 

Which is why, on your last night, you were hesitant to even reply to Harry’s text. 

Harry S (5:19pm): Want to come over for dinner?

It was a strange request--one that certainly hadn’t happened in a long time (if ever). You stared at the message, laid flat out on your bed, wondering if he’d perhaps meant to send it to the group. 

Books lined the shelf against the wall--clothes in the hamper from high school. Suddenly, when you read the message again, the butterflies broke free.

Y/N L/N  (5:21pm): Is that okay with your mum?

With your mum? You immediately regretted the words--while your stomach might currently feel fifteen, you didn’t need to act like you were. 

Harry S (5:21pm): Was her idea, actually!

You let out a sigh, sounds floating up from the kitchen of your mum’s voice on the phone with someone. What were you going to do, say no? Voluntarily pass on spending time with the guy you’d been crushing on for years? You reached for a sweatshirt and tugged it over your head, smoothing back your hair as Katie knocked on the door. 

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Out where?” Her head dipped to the side, her eyes getting thinner when you climbed off your bed and reached for a scarf.

Katie was always nosy. She’d always been the little sister who had to know what you were doing, why you were doing it and if she could do it too. This was certainly something she couldn’t do. 

“To Harry’s,” you said with a shrug, looking around the room for your coat. 

“So, are things like, fine between you now or?”

“They were never not fine,” you lied, hoping she wouldn’t go there. 

“Yeah,” she let out a laugh. “And Bryn likes boys.”

“Why is everyone always using that as their comeback?” You stopped moving and looked up, her smirk softened, a sudden niceness washing over her.

“Things are good, though?”

You paused for a second, unsure of how to answer her question. 

“Just get out, Harry,” you said, your eyes wet with emotion, the taste of salt on your lips. Your arms wrapped around your own shoulders, hoping to keep yourself from shaking on the bathroom tile.

“Y/N, hold on, just wait, I think--”

“No, Harry, alright? I shouldn’t have said it and now I look even more like an idiot.”

“Smalls, you need to calm down.”

He reached a hand forward to touch you, but you  shimmied away from his touch, looking up at him before speaking through another sob. “Don’t you have more famous friends to hang out with?”

“They’re--okay, I guess.”

“So you haven’t talked about it?”

“No,” you said quickly, hitting the lights and stepping past her into the hallway. “And hopefully  we won’t.”

“Oh bullshit,” Katie laughed, following you down the stairs. Your dad looked up from a seat on the couch when he heard your footsteps coming. 

“M’going to Harry’s, be back whenever,” you called, hoping your parents wouldn’t join in on Katie’s interrogation.

“If you didn’t want to talk about it you wouldn’t be hanging out with him.”

You paused again at the door, hand on the knob before twisting it open, a momentary hesitation. “Then maybe I do.”

The door shut behind you, an echo into the sky as you shoved your hands in your pockets. You’d walk, that was fine. It was maybe a fifteen minute hike to his neighborhood with winding driveways and bigger gardens.

And it wasn’t too cold, warmer than New York and less windy by far. A mild winter was nice, something your parents always talked about when you were little--it’ll be a mild one, this year, for sure.

You didn’t always know what they meant, but when you walked home that night in the misty air, you finally understood. 

No frostbite. No snowflakes the size of quarters. Instead, it’s like the world had taken pity on you--deciding to blow gusts of unseasonably warm air as you counted the steps away from the house. 

They didn’t know where your were, which was fine. They didn’t need to. 

They didn’t need to know you told him everything. From the good to the bad to the broken-hearted, years of secrets spilled into the room, then out of your mouth and your stomach all the same.  

He opened the door when you knocked, a smile on his face. Surprise, you realized. You hadn’t said whether or not you were coming. 

He let you in and took your coat, cheeks pressed against Gemma and Anne’s all the same, a mirror image of a few mornings back. Dinner around the table, an empty seat for the fourth member of their family no longer there.

You’d heard through Jessie that it happened--a sudden sickness and even quicker unraveling of life. Jake and Adam went to the memorial--it was small and quiet, they said, they didn’t even get a chance to say hi to him. 

But there was laughter in the house like there’d always been. If anything, louder and more whole-hearted as you listened to them tell stories, a quiet observer of a personal moment. 

You were banished to the living room, though, when Anne wouldn’t let you help clean up, ordering Harry to pour a glass of wine for you before joining you on the couch. You slipped your legs up beneath you, fingers wrapping around the glass stem.

“M’sorry I didn’t text or this summer, y’know, when he passed.”

He let out a sigh and plucked at his lower lip, eyes focusing hard on the clock on the wall. “S’fine, I didn’t really--I wasn’t much fun to talk to.”

“Still, kind of unfair of me to have been mad at you for missing Adam’s gran’s funeral a few years back when I couldn’t even bother to reach out.”

He smirked a bit, his eyes peering at you sideways, sarcasm lacing his words, “you were mad about that?”

You rolled your eyes, his feigned naivety pulling a giggle from your lips. As if you hadn’t given him an earful about it that night.

“S’fine, Smalls. Really, I get it. What were you supposed to say? Hey, sorry your step-dad died. I know we haven’t talked since I told you to fuck off right after--”

“Okay, I get it,” you held a hand up, hoping he wouldn’t go on. He laughed, and instead of  giving you trouble, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 

Gemma padded into the room, a glass of wine in her hand and Christmas socks on her feet. “Whoa, keep it family friendly, please.”

Harry rolled his eyes, immediately launching into a story about the time he walked in on Gemma  and boyfriend--both fifteen at the time--making out on the couch after school. It was then that Anne popped her head in the room, her own glass of wine clinking against yours when she sat on the couch. 

Glad to hear about it ten years later, she laughed. 

You stayed like that for a while, feet on Harry’s lap and laughter between sips of wine, comfortable with the company and content with the night. 

A second glass, refills for everyone before a board game. Giggly and competitive enough to not realize that Gemma swung her phone around the room, capturing three seconds of memories to preserve the belly laughs in a digital time capsule. 

But eventually it was time to head home, Gemma’s sleepy eyes opened and shut when you stood from the couch. Anne disappeared up the stairs after a hug goodbye. Don’t be a stranger, she said. 

He followed you into the dark, settling on a walk to yours instead of a drive. “Like in New York,” he said, his footsteps echoing on the pavement were louder than yours. “Midnight walks are a lot more quiet here than they are there, though.”

You laughed, looking up to trace shapes in the stars. A tree, a bird, maybe even a heart. Your breath floated up when you spoke. “The Village is still pretty calm.”

He nodded, his eyes following yours up to take in the darkness. “Ever freak you out that this is  the same sky that’s over New York? Like, maybe not right now, but you could see these stars from there, too.”

“Never really thought of it that way,” you stepped off of the sidewalk, drifting into the street simply because you could. You couldn’t do that in New York. 

“We’re always under the same sky. I think about that when I travel--when I’m missing home, too.”

The topic had been there, hidden beneath the brush on the side of the road or beneath the butterflies in your ribs, fluttering wings serving as a distraction from the inevitable. 

New York wasn’t home for him. It was home for you. 

“When do you go back on tour?”

“Beginning of March. I’ll mostly be in New York until then, though.”

You didn’t say anything. 

“Why?”

“Just wondering.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up in that stupid, shit-eating way it always did. “Gonna miss me?”

“No,” you rolled your eyes, a scoff as if he was so far off it hurt. “I was just wondering.”

He hummed, drawing out the noise as if he was deep in thought. “M’gonna miss you. And the Pad Thai, and the wine, and your living room, but, yeah--I’ll miss you.”

You bit at your lip, hoping to avoid the smile that wanted so badly to burst out of you, yet comfortable with the fact that maybe he knew there was something that swirled in the wind between you both.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

You turned the corner onto your street, thankful for the warm reprieve to come. 

“Act like you hate me,” he watched you closely, a playful smile on his lips.

You scrunched your nose, pulling your gaze away from him as you shoved your hands in your pockets. “I don’t hate you.”

He was quiet for a second, his voice less playful and teasing when he spoke. “You know, you say that you wish we could put it in the past, but--”

He shook his head, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. A lump of cement gathered in your stomach, you swallowed down the anxiety. 

“But you’re pretty stuck on it.”

Eyes on the pavement in front of you. Two driveways until yours. 

“It was the worst night of my life, probably,” you laughed a little, looking up at him with hesitation. Even that felt vulnerable to admit. 

“Because of me?” his voice trailed up at the end of his question, the surprise evident on his face. 

You laughed, “no, because of me.”

**

December  29th, 2015  - 9:42pm

You were sat in the kitchen of Kenny Tilley’s house, dull eyes watching as Bryn mixed you a drink and set it down in front of you. The thump of the bass seemed to rattle the vase of flowers on the table--a Christmas brunch leftover.

“S’gin and orange juice.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, reaching forward to let your fingers wrap around the cup.

“Oh come on,” Jessie tried. “He was a twat, boring and not that bright, anyway.”

You looked up at her, a warning in your eyes to shut it. You pulled the cup to your lips, hoping the sour taste would washing away the traces of him. He didn’t even call.

“Any boy who’s 21-years-old and breaks up with you over text is a wanker,” Jessie said, her voice softer as she sat at the table beside you. She placed a hand on your arm and fluttered her  eyelashes at you. “I’ll fucking kill Charlie Westman if I ever see his stupid face.”

“S’why you gotta date women, honestly,” Bryn let out a sigh and sat on the other side of you--a pang of guilt ricocheting in your gut when your eyes met hers. 

This was supposed to be a fun night. The gang back together, a reunion of sorts with other classmates and friends alike. And this time, Kenny Tilley had offered up his parent’s basement rather than the Red Lion: cheaper, bigger, and no worries about being drunk in public. 

“M’fine,” you said, another big swig of the drink as if to really sell it. “It was only a year--nothing too wild. Not meant to be, I guess.”

Your eyes welled with water the more you spoke, you blinked quickly to try to hide it, but it was no use. Bryn thrust a napkin in your direction, her smile apologetic and understanding.

“M’sorry, maybe I should just leave,” you said, looking between to two of them for some sort of reassurance. Going home would be miserable, you thought. An empty bedroom, empty bed, empty heart. 

So maybe you should have seen it coming. Maybe Charlie Westman was a bit daft and maybe he didn’t seem all that interested in you aside from the times when you were naked in bed. Maybe he liked the curve of your hips more than he liked the conversation about the ethics in journalism. 

“Oh my god,” Jessie turned to you quickly, her voice quiet so as to not be overheard by the rest of the bodies crammed into the kitchen. “Harry just walked in with Jake.”

“What?” Both you and Bryn leaned forward over the table, eyes scanning the rest of the room to catch a glimpse of the top of his head. Long and curly--you knew that, you’d seen it on the internet. 

“This is not good timing,” Jessie remarked, pushing your drink a little closer to  you, her subtle  and endearing way of telling you to buckle up. 

Of course, as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough already by making your boyfriend dump you via Happy Christmas text message, your year 10 crush showing up out of the blue was just icing on the miserable cake. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have your younger sister’s friends begging for his phone number. Don’t have it, you’d say. What good was texting someone who never  responded, anyway?

“Doesn’t he have a band to break up with?” You muttered, holding the cup to your lips, another sinking feeling washing over you when he took a step into the room, his eyes landing on yours  before his lips stretched into a smile. 

“Hi,” he said, Jake and Adam flanked him on either side. You matched the movement of Jessie and Bryn. Standing, offering a hug, forcing out good to see you, how’ve you been? 

As if you didn’t know, as if you weren’t keeping tabs on his tours, his albums, his success as the boy from the small town who left you to settle like dust after he tore through. So sure, he wasn’t the first person you wanted to see, maybe not the tenth of fifteenth either. You’d rather reminisce on embarrassing year 8 stories with someone who couldn’t top them with that one time at the Brits. 

“Heads up would have been nice,” you said to Adam, your arm around his waist after he offered a hug--he’d heard about the break up. 

“From Charlie?”

“No--I mean, yeah, but I meant from you. Kind of a lot in one day, you know?”

Mending a broken heart was something you were used to. When Harry left for the X-Factor you  spent a good month texting him like nothing had happened. Funny stories from school, pictures, updates on classes and homework. A part of you believed that if you could just keep things as close to normal as they’d been, you’d avoid any type of shift. 

You’re clearly in love with him, Jessie would tease, her eyebrows thin in true 2010 style. Just tell him. 

You’d crowd around the living room to watch the show, voting furiously when you could and waiting for text messages or phone calls from him after. But they slowed down. When he lost he didn’t call, when the band got signed he sent a group text. He was home that Christmas and told you all about how he’d lost his virginity to someone much older. You left the room. 

There were rare appearances between then and now. He tried his best at first--there’d be concerts he’d invite you to and parties he’d come home for. The holidays were usually a given, at least for the first three years after he left, but 2013 was spent in New York with his new friends, 2014 was supposedly on a boat somewhere in the Caribbean. So now, his hands in pockets in front of you, he smiled.

“Missed you, Smalls,” his head dipped to the side. 

You let out a quick laugh, immediately receiving an elbow in the side from Bryn. “Yeah--same.”

A sigh from Jessie--your fake smile wasn’t wide enough. You offered a big, toothy grin, prompting Jake to usher Adam and Harry towards the alcohol supply and, likely, away from you.

But what did you care? Broken hearted, alone, and now reminded of the way things were--a sloppy house party reunion wasn’t meant to be so emotionally taxing.

Which is why you tried to lay low. A second drink, a third. You listened as Bryn told Daniel Prentiss about her internship, chimed in about your hopes to move after school. No idea where, you’d said. Anywhere but here. 

A fourth drink, chips and dip. If  you were going to make it home in one piece, a snack was necessary. 

Harry loitered around, never too far away but never too close, either. He listened when you laughed at Jake’s terrible story about a job interview, even complimented your advice about not being twenty minutes late with a stain on your pants. 

You ignored the looming sadness in your bones and especially the girls who seemed to hold on to Harry for a second too long, stealing glances from the corner of your eye, hiding behind the rim of your cup. 

A fifth drink, the bathroom. You had to wait for someone else to come out, you leaned against  the wall and closed your eyes. You could have fallen asleep right there.

“Hey,” his voice was close, pulling you back to reality as soon as the door opened. Jenna Barnsbury giggled as she passed by with Maddie Winslow in tow. 

“Jesus,” you said, a hang over your heart, the state of pseudo-slumber now a far-fetched dream. Someone let out a joyful shriek in the living room. “Didn’t you see my eyes were closed?”

“Sorry--I--” he smirked, “you weren’t sleeping, were you?”

“I was standing up,” you rolled your eyes, a deep breath filling your lungs--drunker than you thought.

A laugh escaped your lips when he offered a shrug in response. His eyes watched you closely for a second, heat on your cheeks when his lips twitched into a smirk. 

“Well, gotta go,” you said suddenly, side stepping into the bathroom, your hand on the knob when he mimicked your movements. 

“Wait, Smalls,” two steps into the bathroom, his hand closing the door behind him, a clanking on the tile. 

“What was that?” 

“Dunno--” he looked down to his feet, it was now you realized that he was drunk too, his eyes wide when he bent down, returning to eye level with a tarnished piece of gold in his hand. “Shit.”

“Harry--what the fuck did you do?” You grabbed it from him, pushing him out of the way to inspect the damage. The little shiny piece had come from beneath the knob--the locking mechanism that typically offered privacy now left you stuck in the ground floor bathroom of Kenny Tilley’s parent’s house. With no one but Harry Styles. You shook the knob, hoping it would give. Nothing.

“S’locked,” he said, a hint of guilt laced through his low voice. 

“Gathered that,” you said, pushing it up against where it had come from. You stuck a finger in the small hole, bent down to press your eye up against it. You straightened up, turning around to face him in the bright light of the toilet. 

“D’you have a phone?”

“No,” you shook your head, leaning your back on the wall in defeat. “I think I gave it to Jessie--so I don’t text Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“My boyfriend,” a sigh. “I guess, ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh,” he said, unsure of how to respond. “Sorry.” A change of subject. “Someone will come. Eventually someone will have to use the loo or notice we’re gone.”

You looked around the room, slumping down to the floor. White and blue tile, small soaps that smelled like your gran and a hand towel that your mother would have loved. While it might not have been your first choice location, you didn’t mind the reprieve from a thumping bass line. “Can you turn the light out? S’fucking bright.”

You covered your eyes with your hands while you waited. When darkness washed over, you pulled them away, adjusting your gaze to find his face--only lit up from the moon that peered through the window. He was now sat beside you.

“Guess it’s a good time to catch up,” he laughed, sticking a hand out in front of you to twist a ring on his pointer finger. 

“I’m fine, Harry.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your head was spinning, your stomach was flipping, and you couldn’t quite decide if being alone in a bathroom with Harry made you want to strangle him for being such a twat or jump him and stick your tongue down his throat. You sat on your hands. 

“School’s good?”

“Yep.”

“Your parents?”

“Mhm.”

“And Katie, too?”

“All good.”

A moment of hope passed--a voice outside the door that would maybe notice two people stuck inside. Deflated chests when nothing happened. 

“So Charlie--was he from uni?”

“Yeah,” you spoke in a breathy sigh, wondering where he was and what he was doing right now. If anything, Charlie had been a great distraction from the boy seated beside you. 

Sure, there were short little romances after he left for the band--dates to the movies or making out in someone’s bedroom--but nothing that seemed to work well enough to make you forget the  way Harry didn’t seem to miss you. 

“Think it’s over for good?”

“Why are you so interested in my life suddenly?”

The words erupted out, cracked the seal of your lips before landing on the floor in front of you--a pattern of crossed lines and smooth, white, tile. 

“Sorry,” he said, a shrug of his shoulders. “Just, making small talk.”

“Well you’re a little late.”

“What?”

You turned to face him suddenly, the quick movement making your stomach and head unhappy. “We haven’t spoken in a year, m’pretty sure. You barely even text on our birthdays--you didn’t come to Adam’s gran’s funeral--and yet you show up here and expect everyone to be so thrilled to see you? Did you ever realize that maybe we’re not? Maybe our lives have moved on without you and you don’t just get to be a part of them whenever you please?”

His eyes were wide, his pink lips slightly parted, more heat on his cheeks now, you were unsure if it was the alcohol he’d drank or the words you’d spoken. It felt good, though. Like opening the window on a muggy evening, letting fresh air break the tension and sweep through the staleness. You’d been feeling that way from the start.

“Well, s’not like I’ve been sitting around in my living room, y’know. I’ve been working my arse off for years and now s’just over and I have to answer to you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Smalls,” he let out a breath and looked around the room. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Do what?” You asked, turning towards him again. “Face the shit you left behind?” Water in your eyes when those words came up your throat. “Face the fact that some of us have missed you and waited for you to call or text or even just say hi when you were home?” 

The emotion in your voice startled him, he seemed to move away from you on the tile. 

“I’ve got a lot going on right now.” 

That was all he said. Silence for a moment. You reached up to pull at the door. Nothing. 

“Of course,” you said, more anger than before. “Of course I get fucking stuck in the toilet with you on tonight of all nights. First Charlie, now you. Men who’ve ruined my life!”

You didn’t even catch it, not until his ear fell to his shoulder and his eyes got all nervous.

A soft voice--curious, not angry. “Wh--I ruined your life?”

“No,” you said, heat in your chest from letting more words slip. “Forget it.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?”

Maybe it was the tears or the tile floor or the gin in your head. Maybe it was the fact that there was no reason not to. No Charlie. No one else around. What did you have to lose?

“You left,” you said, a solemn nod. “You left and I didn’t like it because I was--” a drunken sigh. “I had feelings for you.”

His eyes were on yours. His stupid long hair was up in a bun now, a different look when he sauntered through the door. “Why--why didn’t you tell me?”

“What was I supposed to say, Harry? Come back from your one shot at fame because I have a crush on you?” You let out a laugh at the thought, his shoulders sunk and someone yelled outside the door. Laughter from living room. 

“I--I didn’t know,” he said. 

“Well, whatever.” You stood from the floor and moved over to the window. “S’fucking hot in here and that was a long time ago. S’fine.”

He stood and watched you, his eyes on your face after you turned around from pushing the window up, immediately breaking the stuffiness of the small room. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“M’not.”

“Okay,” you rolled your eyes, drunk, angry, ready for bed. You sat on the toilet, chin in your hands, completely comfortable with your alcohol fueled monologue. Harry didn’t speak. 

Two minutes of silence in the dark room. Heat blew from the radiator and you paced on the tile, the room feeling smaller and your words feeling bigger. Had you said too much? Did it matter if he knew? It was so long ago--years, really. Who cared if there was still a swarm of butterflies in your gut when he walked in the room, especially seeing as it was countered by a wave of anger and resentment. 

He resigned to his seat on the floor again, back against the door as you continued to walk back and forth. Three steps this way, three steps back. 

“Should we bang on the door?” 

“Knock yourself out,” you laughed a little, motioning towards the door to invite him to begin. 

He banged a fist four times. “Can anyone hear me?”

The talking and laughing was loud, only topped by the music that seemed to get louder the longer you were in there. More silence--Harry reached for a red cup he’d had in his hand in the  hallway when you moved to sit down beside him.

“Vodka?” He pushed it towards you, offering you a sip after he took his own. “Kind of gross and not enough juice thanks to Jessie.”

You rolled your eyes, taking it from him and downing the rest. Anger dissolving as the liquid slid  down your throat.

He laughed. “Thanks--was, uh, hoping to have at least some.”

“Oh piss off, I declared my teenage love for you. I think you owe me one.”

He laughed at that, tossing the cup into the bin across the small room. 

“Is this thing broken?” You leaned forward to inspect the radiator again. “I’m sweltering.”

“Yeah--s’like a Texas summer.”

“Right,” you said, moving your fingers to unbutton your blouse. “You’ve been there.”

“What are you doing?”

“S’hot--too hot.”

“Oh.”

Relief when your skin was exposed--the tile cool on your back as you leaned against the wall once more. “I’m probably the last girl you’d expect to see without a shirt, right?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, his head turned to the side to watch you for a second, but you couldn’t get over the cool tile on your bare skin. 

“Dunno,” you slurred out the word, a whine escaping your lips when he cracked a smile. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He laughed, his finger reaching over to poke you in the stomach. 

“The cute smile thing.”

“Can’t help it,” he shrugged, a pause before he continued. “You bring it out of me.”

You looked up at him, your lips pulled into a thin line to avoid the smile that so badly wanted to plaster itself on your face. The bathroom was dark, the noises of a muffled party were seeping through the door. Jessie’s laugh, Jake talking loudly over the music. 

But you felt safe in here--secluded and cozy and best--or worst--of all, it was just the two of you. You turned to look at him quickly. “Why’d you show up tonight, anyway?”

He brought his gaze to the floor quickly. It wasn’t necessary a question you needed to ask. His band was done. Who knew what he’d do next--though you knew he’d figure it out--maybe a quick stop in Holmes Chapel was enough to get him grounded. 

“Was hoping to see everyone--I meant it when I said I missed you.”

“Hm,” you leaned your head back, closing your eyes. That made the nausea worse. “Try it again.”

The door was still locked when he pulled at the knob again--but it didn’t give. He turned around and looked at you--a drunken smirk on his face before you could even speak.  

“If I’m locked in a bathroom with anyone, m’glad s’you.”

Maybe he said it because you were shirtless--but the four gin and tonics you had liked to believe otherwise. 

“Right.”

“Really--could have been Nina Victor.” He faked a shiver at the thought.

“Well, ditto.”

It was quick, a fleeting thought that moved from your heart to your head to your hands without much warning. You moved towards him on the floor, your lips connected for a moment. But then you felt him pull back. 

You felt his hands on your shoulders, a steady force, but gentle, too. 

“Smalls, I just--I don’t--”

“I know,” you said, slumping away from him, “it’s not like that.”

“I just don’t think--”

“S’fine, Harry,” you bit out, pushing yourself away from him on the tile. “You don’t have to explain it. I get it--there’s lots of girls for you, and I’m just the one who got left behind when you got too fucking famous for us, right?”

“S’not what I’m saying--you’re not even listening.”

But then you felt it. That watering feeling in your mouth, the one that made you rush to the  bathroom or clear the room. “Oh God,” you said, moving to the toilet quickly, lifting the seat just in time for you to dump the contents of your stomach, splashing into the water. 

Was it alcohol or emotion? A mixture of both, you were sure. The music floated up from the crack beneath the door, the heat pumped from the radiator, your bra looked black in the darkness of the room, instead of a deep plum. 

“You’re okay,” he said, moving forward, a hand on your back. 

You flinched at the contact. “Don’t touch me,” you said, tears in your eyes as you reached for something to wipe your mouth. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” you yelled over your shoulder, flushing before slumping back to the floor, pushing yourself away from him as tears poured over. “I’m stupid and drunk and you need to forget everything I’ve said and we can’t ever speak of this, okay? Don’t even talk to me--just go back to London or LA and don’t ever speak to me again.”

“Whoa, Y/N,” he barely finished saying your name before you let out a sob. 

“Don’t--okay? I shouldn’t have kissed you and I’m drunk and I’m disgusting,” the words were slurred into one run on mess of syllables. 

He watched you, frozen, crouching close by like he wanted to help but knew his touch would shatter you. The door opened quickly to reveal Bryn, a smile on her face faded when she heard the sob escape your lips.

“What happened?”

“I just--we were stuck in here--and she,” he sputtered out the words, endless sentences with no finish lines.

“Just get out, Harry,” you said, your eyes wet with emotion, the taste of salt on your lips. Your arms wrapped around your own shoulders, hoping to keep yourself from shaking on the bathroom tile.

“Y/N, hold on, just wait, I think--”

“No, Harry, alright? I shouldn’t have said it and now I look even more like an idiot.”

“Smalls, you need to calm down.”

He reached a hand forward to touch you, but you shimmied away from his touch, looking up at him before speaking through another sob. “Don’t you have more famous friends to hang out with?”

“Harry, just go, I’ve got it,” Bryn pleaded from behind him. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, the first time he’d taken his eyes off you since the lights came on. One more look to you, a sigh. He pushed himself up off his knees and disappeared back into the party, fading out like he always did. 

So you didn’t tell Bryn, you couldn’t. You bolted for the front door and ran into the night, hoping to leave it behind and praying that this time, he wouldn’t ever call again. 

**

He stopped walking beside you at the base of your driveway, pulling your mind back to the present. 

“I’m the one who fucked it up,” he said. “I’m the one who pushed you off.”

“What?”

He wiped at his mouth, suddenly more animated and worked up. “I didn’t not want to kiss you,” he smacked a hand on his forehead, the words spilling out of him like they'd been locked up for two years. “You were drunk, I was drunk. I pushed you away because I didn’t want it to happen like that. I didn’t want you to regret it.”

Your mouth was in an ‘o,’ unable to produce sounds or words or anything of the sort, the thought  settling into your body that your version of the truth hadn’t been his. 

“I didn’t talk to you for so long because I knew I’d fucked up and I knew you were mad and frankly, I was fucking terrified of pissing you off after seeing how angry and upset you were.”

More silence, you blinked three times, he caught his breath after speaking so quickly, wisps of heat coming from his mouth as they danced towards the moon. “You also, y’know, told me to never fucking talk to you again, so,” a shrug of his shoulders, a slight laugh. 

There it was, the wall you’d tried so hard to build and maintain, broken. Crumbling down, brick by brick, deconstructed by his words and the pain in his eyes when he waited for you to say something. 

“I didn’t--I thought,” you tried to speak, stuttering like the engine of an old car. “I thought you pushed me away because you didn’t like me.”

“Smalls,” he shook his head, his eyes on the ground as if he’d find the words there, crumpled beneath your feet. “That wasn’t it.”

“So then, when I told you I liked you before you left, why didn’t you say something?”

“I tried,” he let out a laugh, a smile crawling onto his face as his eyes got wider. “You were so mad so quick and I was so freaked out and you’d just broken up with that kid and we were plastered, Y/N.”

“I remember,” you rolled your eyes. 

You tried to slow your breath, in and out, hands in your pockets. He took a step closer to you. “I know I sucked at being a friend.”

You swallowed. A nod--it was all you could offer. 

“I’m sorry it took me two years to tell you that I felt the same way.”

Another nod. Instead of speaking, he leaned in, pressed his lips to yours lightly, but laughed at the touch. 

“What?” You pulled back, your eyebrows dipping south.

“Better late than never, right?”

His arm slung over your shoulder, walking you to the front door in first date fashion. He kissed you again, fully amused by the way you couldn’t manage out much of a response other than that you’d see him tomorrow--breakfast with the gang before everyone would head their separate ways.

You were so busy floating into the house and into bed that you must have missed the ding of your phone. The screen lit up when you set it on your bedside table, Carly’s name on the screen. 

The cloud that carried you up the stairs disappeared, dropping you down to earth just as quickly as it swept you off of your feet. A screenshot of your blurry face. On the couch, next to Harry. Wine in your hand.

Carly J (11:24pm): Care to explain?

AN: THERE IT IS Y’ALL. More surprises to come, as always. Is it what you thought? Many hints, for those who were searching so diligently: “But that was nothing compared to the level of embarrassment you were used to when it came to Harry and things that came out of your mouth.” Hands pressed to the tile, “Your stomach seemed to get warm and for a second, you feared it would happen again.” A few of your guessed that she would get sick but I wasn’t about to give it away so easily. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!

tag list:  @clorenafila​ @ainsleesolareclipse @castawaycths @harryspirate @wanderlustiing @ursamajor603 @thurhomish @omgsharry @jdcharliewhiskey @stepping-into-the-light @rachkon​ @jdcharliewhiskey @sad-little-asshole  @shawnsblue​  @gendryia​ @g0bl1nqueen​  @laula843​  @flooome​  a-woman-without-a-plan @awomanindeniall​  @shaw-nm​ @staceystoleyourheart @ohprettylittlemind​ @anssu-amry​ @my-fandomful-life​ @stylesfantasy​ @bookingbee​  @mleestiles​  @haute-romance-quotidienne​ pinkpolaroidgirl craic-head-horan @bluegreencolorsflashin​

[beautifulnightmarepost]

A Powerful Playlist

1. Respect - Aretha Franklin (Song details)

Released: April 29, 1967 Genre:

Songwriter(s): Otis Redding

Producer(s): Jerry Wexler

For me, the song "Respect" has always been one of the first songs that comes to mind when I think of Women's empowerment. Even though I have heard the song before, listening to this song takes me back to my marching band days. Researching this song promoted motived me to learn the lyrics.

"A little respect oh yeah (just a little bit)

A little respect (just a little bit)

I get tired (just a little bit) Keep on tryin' (just a little bit)

You're runnin' out of fools (just a little bit)

And I ain't lyin' (just a little bit)"

While the song wasn't originally written by Aretha, she truly made it her own by adding a few details. It is worth noting that Aretha was the first one to add the iconic “R-E-S-P-E-C-T" hook line. Thus she, and her creative team helped to make this a woman's empowerment anthem.

Aside from the amazing lyrics, there is just something so cool about the tempo and arrangement of this song. The intro is so upbeat and fun I cannot help but start to dance.

2. “Miss Independent” – Kelly Clarkson

Released: April 10, 2003

Songwriter(s):  Rhett Lawrence, Kelly Clarkson, Christina Aguilera, Matt Morris

Producer(s): Rhett Lawrence

The song “Miss Independent” is another that comes to mind when I personally think about the woman’s empowerment movement. Kelly Clarkson combines creative vocals and thoughtful lyrics to really drive the point home. It is also interesting to note that other artists had turned this song down before it arrived to Clarkson. It would turn out to be her first attempt at writing a song with a group and, after her American Idol Win, it really made her as a star. The lyrics:

“So, by changing her

Misconceptions, she went in a new direction

And found inside she felt a connection”

really drive home the meaning. In short, a catching driving pop tempo and creative lyrics are the reason this song made my list.

3. “Independent Women (Part 1),” – Destiny’s Child

Released:  September 14, 2000

Songwriter(s):  Tone, Poke, Cory Rooney & Beyoncé

Producer(s): Beyoncé, Cory Rooney & Trackmasters

Desitny's child has many inspiring songs about empowerment. I could list, at least five songs that I could have used for my play list! Nonetheless, “Independent Women” is my favorite of their catalog and that is why I picked it for my list. The overall song has creative lyrics and a fun catchy beat. I can still really dance along to this song as a teen. Even as an adult, I still find the words fun and inspiring. This song drives home the idea that woman can provide for themselves. Fun fact, this song spent 11 weeks (about 2 and a half months) at number one on the Hot 100, becoming the group’s longest running number one.

“Try to control me, boy, you get dismissed Pay my own car note and I pay my own bills Always fifty-fifty in relationships”

The above lyrics drive home two important points, equality in the woman’s movement while still maintaining some independence”

4. “None of Your Business" by Salt-N-Pepa

Released: October 1, 1993

Songwriter(s):  Herby “Luvbug” Azor

Producer(s): Herby “Luvbug” Azor

Salt’ Peppa are another amazing female trio. They also have a catalog filled with impowering songs. While it was hard to pick just one, “None of Your Business” will always be one of my favorites. I remember when this song first came out. Yet the lyrics have a different feel now that I am an adult. “None of Your Business,” creative lyrics drive home a this fits right in with the overall theme for woman’s empowerment. This mix of rap and rock make this one of my favorites, because it crosses genres with its creation.

“So the moral of this story is: Who are you to judge?

There's only one true judge, and that's God

So chill, and let my Father do His job”

These words have still stuck with me to this day.

5. “Hard Out Here,” -- Lilly Allen

Released: November 17, 2013

Songwriter(s):  Greg Kurstin & Lily Allen

Producer(s): Greg Kurstin

Lilly Allen has a catalog of fun quirky yet meaningful songs. I cannot recall exactly where I was when I first heard about this amazing artist... but I remember being instantly hooked. Whenever I am having a rough day, her songs were always one of my go-too. So, needless to say, “Hard Out here” will always be one of my favorite songs by Lilly. This song is a mix of creative lyrics with the artists own brand of fun and quirky sarcasm. Thes lyrics are one of the main reasons why I picked this song for my list:7. “We Run This,” Missy Elliott

Released: February 21, 2006

Songwriter(s):  Rhemario “Rio Beats” Webber, Jerry Lordan & Missy Elliott

Producer(s): Rhemario “Rio Beats” Webber

Miss Elliot is another amazing female artist who has a lot of songs that fall under the theme over Woman’s empowerment. I picked the song “We Run This” because I thought it would best fit the overall flow of my playlist. This song mixes Electronic with hip hop genre of music. It has an upbeat tempo, making it one of those great songs with a fun “vibe.” Even though this song has some explicit lyrics, like the Liliya Allen song listed above, it also makes a point with those lyrics:

“You don't want beef, don't take it that far with a superstar I got my foot on the clutch, see me bounce my butt Misdemeanor too much and I don't give a fuck”

The lyrics shout “I am large and in charge,” and would make a good empowerment anthem.

“There's a glass ceiling to break, uh-huh There's money to make And now it's time to speed it up 'Cause I can't move at this pace"

The goal to break the glass ceiling is an ongoing one for the woman’s empowerment movement. It is nice that this song gives a slight nod to that ongoing struggle. Not to mention, the music video takes a few sharp jabs at entertainment industry. The overall tempo and music arrangement also makes this song memorable.

6. “Bitch” Meredith Brooks

Released: May 20, 1997

Songwriter(s):  Meredith Brooks & Shelly Peiken

Producer(s): Geza X

This song, by name will always come to mind when I think of Woman’s empowerment. Sure, the title might throw some people who are a little more sensitive. In my option its song’s main title is not used in a derogatory fashion. In my option, it feels empowering to call out the main part of the hook. I remember when it first came out... the lyrics struct me as very empowering, even at an early age. It was just fun to call out the tittle (much to the chagrin of my mother). "Bitch" starts off with a slow tempo and seems a bit unassuming, "innocent and sweet". Until the song changes up as the tempo song. Each time I hear this song I cannot help but song. The lyrics are fun yet gives you a something to think about:

“When you hurt, when you suffer I'm your angel undercover I've been numb, I'm revived Can't say I am not alive You know I wouldn't want it any other way”

8. “I'm Every Woman” Whitney Huston

Released: November 17, 1992

Songwriter(s):  Nickolas Ashford & Valerie Simpson

Producer(s): Narada Michael Walden

Whitney Huston will always be one of those amazing female artists. I can still recall when I first heard this song on the radio. As a young girl, it made me feel uplifted, as if I could grow up to be anything. That, hopefully, when I became a woman, that I would be able to go on to do remarkable things. Now, that I am older, I can full appreciate the importance of this song. As with some of the pervious songs, "I am Every Woman" has a good pace tempo. It is one of those fun, yet empowering songs, that gets people up and dancing. Hopefully, this powerful message will continue to be passed down to younger generations, and the singer's legacy will never be forgotten.

“Whatever you want

Whatever you need

Anything you want done baby

I do it naturally

Cause I'm every woman (Every woman)"

9. “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves,” Eurythmics feat. Aretha Franklin

Released:  October 1, 1985

Songwriter(s):  David A. Stewart & Annie Lennox

Producer(s): David A. Stewart

While there are many modern songs for woman’s empowerment, I wanted to add this older tune to provide a better mix.  “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves,” is one of those classic songs that drives the point. These lyrics drive home the theme:

“There was a time When they used to say That behind every great man There had to be a great woman But in these times of change You know that it is no longer true So [,] we're coming out of the kitchen”

Like the other songs in my list, this one has a very upbeat tempo to match the lyrics. It is a very 80's song, but that is not a terrible thing! The arrangement is creative with that fun driving beat that brings out the amazing vocals of Eurythmics and Franklin. The music video also pokes fun of some of those old outdated ideas that once kept women back. Going back to the main theme, this song is about woman moving on to stand proud.

10. Karisome Otome - “Temporary Virgin” by Shiina Ringo

椎名林檎×斎藤ネコ「カリソメ乙女」の歌詞

Released: November 11, 2006

Songwriter(s):  Ringo Sheena, Soil & "Pimp" Sessions

Producer(s): Uni Inoue

I wanted to wrap this playlist with something a little different, but it keeps with the overall pop theme. I discovered this artist by happy accident while researching another topic. Shiina Ringo is an amazing vocal who has written most of her own songs. The fast tempo pairs nicely with Ringo’s voice. “Karisome Otome” is a song with an amazing mix of gernes. The tune starts of soft and sweet, much like Meredith Brooks’s “Bitch.” While the theme of her songs varies, I picked this one because it pokes a little fun at the role women take when it comes to flirting and such. Here is the English translation of the entire song:

I'm just like the women Who stand next to you and stare Sweet intoxication But I'm leaving this affair You lit up my daydreams Like so many other guys Don't you look so lonely There's no sorrow in goodbye

What women want are some simple pleasures To be special We don't need you forever But I fell for your trap Girls will fall like that I was floating on a breeze What you must be feeling It was too late yesterday Despite your deceiving It was me who had my way But women always attempt to tell lies And to disguise, conceal what we want So when I try to deceive won't you believe Or say that you forgive me

In my option the song pokes some light hearted fun at the stereotype that women need men in a long-term sense. There are serval versions of this song, even one in English. Yet, like many of the songs, I wanted to mix things up by adding an artist that might be new to some of my readers.

Thanks for reading my list! Please check out the playlist, on YouTube. Drop me a line if you know any other great songs! I am open and love listening to different genres of music.

Sources:

http://albumlinernotes.com/Liner_Note_Samples.html

https://parade.com/961387/jessicasager/girl-power-songs/

https://www.songfacts.com/facts/aretha-franklin/respect

https://popculture.com/music/news/aretha-franklin-respect-hidden-history-makes-it-more-powerful/

https://kellyclarkson.fandom.com/wiki/Miss_Independent

https://www.songfacts.com/facts/kelly-clarkson/miss-independent

https://genius.com/Destinys-child-independent-women-part-1-lyrics

https://genius.com/Salt-n-pepa-none-of-your-business-lyrics

https://genius.com/Lily-allen-hard-out-here-lyrics

https://genius.com/Meredith-brooks-bitch-lyrics

https://genius.com/Missy-elliott-we-run-this-lyrics

https://genius.com/Whitney-houston-im-every-woman-lyrics

https://genius.com/Saygrace-you-dont-own-me-lyrics

https://genius.com/Eurythmics-sisters-are-doin-it-for-themselves-lyrics

https://genius.com/Sheena-ringo-saito-neko-karisome-otome-temporary-virgin-lyrics