justanotehrdisappointment

[marvelous-harry]

Harry/Oliver/ben where Harry hurt himself, nothing to serious just like reader did in Harry/reader/Florence

This is from when he was in Italy shooting MP and stayed behind with Ben and Oliver for a bit in a big vacation home.

-

Harry grinned as he came up from the water surface and shook his head, sending water everywhere. "Did you see?" he asked as he looked up at Oliver who was standing by the edge of the indoor pool.

"I did. It was a very impressive bomb dive," Oliver grinned. "Now come on, dinner is almost ready. You need to rinse off and get some clothes on,"

Harry swam over to the edge. "Just a few more minutes please?" he asked nicely. "I can do another dive for you!" he added excitedly.

"That's very generous but later okay? Daddy has picked out some clothes for you," Oliver showed off the shorts and t-shirt he had in his hand. He turned around and put it down on one of the pool lounge chairs before picking up a towel.

"Okay fine but later you and Daddy have to come swim with me and watch me dive," Harry said as he hoisted himself up from the pool, not bothering with the ladder.

"Sure, bubs. Maybe before we go to bed we can have a little soak," Oliver said as he unfolded the towel.

Harry grinned and pushed his hair back. He took a little step and immediately felt his foot slipping on the wet tile. Falling backward he slammed into his hip into the pool lounge chair by his side and hit his hand on the tile as he tried to catch himself.

Oliver watched in horror as Harry fell. There was silence for a second as Harry lay there shocked.

Harry whimpered as he realized he'd fallen and as the pain really started setting in he put a hand on his hip and cradled his hurt arm to his chest before letting out a loud sob.

"Oh, bubs!" Oliver said as he carefully stepped over and squatted down. "That was quite the fall," he said as he pulled Harry close and rubbed his back, not caring about his clothes getting wet.

"Hurts!" Harry cried as he pulled his hand back to check it for blood.

"Let me have a look," Oliver said as he moved a bit and looked down at Harry's back and hip. He grimaced as he saw how red it was already. "Think you're going to bruise pretty bad but you didn't break the skin, bubs," Oliver stood up and picked Harry up with a little grunt.

Harry continued sobbing as he wrapped his arms and legs around Oliver. "I don't want to swim ever again!" he cried.

Grabbing the towel and Harry's clothes, Oliver tightened his hold on him as he started walking out of the pool room and towards the kitchen.

Hearing the crying, Ben wiped his hands on the kitchen towel and met them in the doorway. "What happened?" he asked, expecting to hear Harry had put up a fight when he'd been told to get out of the pool.

"Daddy! I fell!" Harry sobbed.

"Slipped on the wet tiles and slammed into the lounge chair. Got his hip pretty good. And his hand," Oliver explained as he sat down on a chair. "Could you get some ibuprofen and a glass of water please?" he asked as he looked up at Ben.

Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head before going to find some painkillers.

"I need to have a look at your hand okay? I'm going to be so careful, I promise," Oliver said softly as he pushed Harry back a bit and held the hand.

"Is it broken?" Harry asked with a whimper. Oliver inspected the hand closely before having Harry roll his wrist, flex his hand and move his fingers.

"I don't think so, I think you just hit it hard trying to catch yourself. The pain should go away soon," Oliver told him and gave him a little smile.

Ben came back into the kitchen with a pack of ibuprofen in his hand before filling up a glass of water. Popping out two pills, he held them out for Harry who put them in his mouth.

Swallowing them down with some water, he sniffled and wiped his eyes. "Thank you, daddy," Harry whispered as he brought his thumb up to his mouth.

Whimpering at the taste, he pulled it back out and let out a little cry.

"How about Sir helps you have a quick shower? Get rid of the pool water on you," Ben suggested.

Harry looked unsure.

"I promise I'll hold you tight. Won't let you fall again. I need to change clothes anyway, mine are all wet," Oliver added as he tightened his arms around Harry and got up.

Ben handed Harry his clothes. "Dinner will be ready when you're done, baby," he stroked Harry's cheek.

"Daddy, you come too," Harry whimpered and grabbed onto his hand.

"I can't baby. Got to watch the food. I'll tell you what, you be a good boy and go with Sir and you can sit with me during dinner and Daddy will help you, alright?"

Harry nodded and let go of Ben's hand. "Okay, Daddy,"

"Good boy,"

[harrieatthemet]

Boring

in which you wear a boring dress and Harry can’t stand the silent treatment anymore.

For the life of him, he cannot fucking remember what he did. 

It’s been eating away at him all week, day in and day out. And really, he’s racking his brain for every possible conversation that’s transpired between the two of you. Was it something he said? Maybe he said something offensive, or he didn’t say anything at all and that’s why you’re like this. 

Quiet. So fucking quiet and he doesn’t think he’ll get through another minute under the same roof as you if it stays this quiet. 

It’s killing him. There’s not a single noise coming out of you and, seriously, he loves a bit of peace and quiet as much as the next guy but this might just be overkill. No sneezes, no soft huffs of frustration as you scroll through your work emails. You’re not humming while you get ready for bed. You always hum while you get ready for bed. 

“S’a bit chilly in here, yeah?” he means it literally, because the window is open and it’s inviting in the cold air. 

And of course, he means it figuratively, too. Because it’s chilly in here, courtesy of your icy demeanor and your hardened posture as you sit up in bed beside him. You grant him with the usual; silence. Your eyes continue to trail the pages of your book, his eyes staring at you so hard they’re only seconds from falling right out of his head. 

He can’t remember a time when there was this much distance between the two of you in bed. Your legs are not weirdly intertwined with his, and as much as he used to bitch and whine about it he can’t help but yearn for the physical contact. Your head isn’t using his bicep to prop itself up, like you usually do when you read.

You’re using the headboard instead, which is really pissing him off. He’s laying right here, ready and available to snuggle with you and talk about your day at work. He’s even ready to surrender his rights to being the little spoon, that’s how he knows he’s at the very end of his rope. 

“Good book?” he chirps again, hoping this time he’ll drag more than just an eye roll out of you. 

Of course, he doesn’t. All he gets is a lousy nod of the head, and you don’t even do so much as turn to face him. You just nod your head, obnoxiously flipping a page in your book. 

This is it. He thinks he's gonna explode now. Surely you know this is driving him crazy, that’s why you’re doing it. But it doesn’t matter, really, if you know or not. He knows that if he has to keep talking to the side of your face with no response, smoke is gonna come out of his ears before his head unscrews. He thinks he’s gonna explode now. 

“If I go t’bed,” he inquires, but his tone is snarky and riddled with irritation, “when I wake up tomorrow, will y’still be ignoring me? Or will yeh have fucking grown up by then?”

Now he gets to look at you, every inch of your face as you pull your eyes off your book and twist your neck to face him. It’s not exactly a look he’s particularly fond of, your eyes squinted in anger and your lips in an unamused frown. Angry, that’s what you are. That’s how you look. 

Maybe he had jumped the gun a bit. Maybe he could have been less abrasive, a little less confrontational. But he'd tried that already, and to no avail, you continued to treat him with a cold shoulder and dramatic rolls of your eyes before slinking off to another room. 

“Well y’can fuckin’ say something!” and again with the abrasiveness, but he doesn’t think he can help it.

“Is this boring to you?” 

“Is wha’ boring me?,” he huffs exasperatedly, “You ignoring me? Yes! Bloody unbearable! Yes it’s fucking boring!”

He thinks that this is better than being ignored. And even though you seem incredibly un-entertained by the raising of his voice and the bewildered look in his eye, he thinks that it’s better than being ignored. 

Hm. That's all he gets from you. A stupid fucking ‘hm’ before you close your book, sliding it off your lap. 

The two of you just sit there now, demeanors and body language opposing one another. It’s clear that he’s grown very tense, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide. He’s frustrated, especially since he thought he'd finally got you to crack but instead all he got was a ‘hm’.

And then you throw the blankets off. He watches in confusions as you frustratedly hurl the blankets to the side, swinging your legs off bed before your feet begin to pad across the floor. And now he feels even shittier than before, because he’s thinking your going to collect the throw blanket at the end of the end and sleep as far away from him as possible. 

“Coward!” He huffs, “Just tell me wha’ I did!”

All he gets is a hostile glare as you walk towards the foot of the bed, and he’s preparing himself to throw a fit once you grab the blanket at the futon at the front of the bed. 

But you don’t, and now he’s really confused when you b line it for the bedroom closet instead. 

The light goes on and he wants to ask what the hell you’re doing in the closet. But he doesn’t, solely because he’s not sure what the answer will be. He can hear the shuffling of closet hangers, hear you grumbling beneath your breath as you shuffle through racks of clothes. 

“How about this!” you hiss from the confines of the small pace, Harry fully sat up in his spot in bed now. 

If he was confused before, he’s truly stumped now. It’s approaching the later hours of the night and you’re stood in the closet doorway with a dress in your hand. And your eyes are narrowed, lips pursed out of frustration as you scowl at him from across the room.

“S’a dress,” he shrugs, “wha’ the hell do I have t’do with it?”

“Oh you don’t remember?” You snap, and he quirks a brow because what the fuck was he supposed to remember about your dress?, “Don’t remember last Saturday night?” 

“Dunno,” he answers, trying his best to remember where he was last Saturday night, “was out with some people from th’label, right?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, “remember saying anything in particular?”

“Said a lot of fuckin things, (Y/N), I dunno.” he groans, unaware that you’re reaching the point of no return. 

“Don’t remember calling my dress boring?” you growl and oh yes, now he remembers. 

He can vaguely remember being a few glasses deep in a bottle of red wine, fiddling mindlessly with the fringe on one of your sleeves. A few people from the record label were sitting just across the table, one of them Kindly complimenting the dress you had just bought a couple hours prior to dinner. And you were happy to relish in the compliment, that is until Harry had to swoop in with the ‘M’not a fan, think it’s a bit boring’ bit. 

And he’s trying his hard to swallow that wave of laughter, but it’s so hard to. So he can’t help but let a few chuckles slip right out of him. 

“Ignored me all week fo’ tha’?” he snickers, “Yeh serious?”

“Oh you think that’s funny?” 

“Honestly,” he snorts, until he gets a glimpse of the extremely unamused look on your face, “no, no I don’t think it’s funny. It is not funny.” 

Another roll of the eyes ensues before you go back to hang the dress up, stomping into the closet because clearly he does think its funny. And fine, maybe you were being a bit dramatic, but you’re not ready to let it go yet. Which is why this time you do reach for the blanket on your way out.

“Oh love, m’sorry! Poppet, really mean it! S’actually really nice!” he coos, throwing off his blanket too so he could coax you back to bed.

“Oh fuck off about it!”

[theasstour]

0105. La fille aux cheveux de lin.

Sunday, 7 December 2014

FIC PAGE | CHAPTER SYMPHONY | WORD COUNT: 7.2k

NB: explicit language, alcohol

A/N: special thanks to the legend @sydneysuit for teaching me about the violin! ily abbie!

VOTE FOR SOY AS FEBRUARY FIC OF THE MONTH💛

Y/N needed money. It hadn’t occurred to her just how bad until she stood in the check-out in Tesco, her mum on the phone to ask her for money, and panicked tears in her eyes. So, on this Sunday, Y/N was frantically looking for part-time jobs in the Clapham and Battersea area of London, though she knew she’d most likely end up working in a dodgy tourist shop in Westminster with absolutely rubbish pay. Running both hands through her hair, Y/N stared at the hundreds of different offers, none seeming appealing and none very good. The panic of having no income, of not having enough money for a train ticket home unless her parents paid for it, all came rushing down all at once. Will just have to suck it up, Y/N thought to herself, opening different tabs on her browser with all the jobs she could apply to.

Her pulse rising, Y/N let her eyes fall shut for a few seconds before she focused on the work ahead. She would have to write a CV, probably ask her dad for help as he had already offered to do so. Ever since Y/N was 13 and had her first anxiety attack, her parents had been eager to learn more about it. Neither of them were very anxious people themselves, but for their daughter, they would try to understand and learn as they wanted to know what to do if it ever occurred again. Whenever Y/N would show signs of being extra anxious, her parents would always be by her side to calm her down. Before Y/N could even open her phone to call her dad, there came a knock from her door.

“Who is it?” She asked, ready to make an excuse so she wouldn’t have to be social. She was sitting in her lounge wear, a fluffy pink blanket draped around her shoulders, and the white light from the cloudy day outside shining in through the window to her left.

“Tiana.”

“What’s up?” Y/N asked as her flatmate poked her head in through the door.

“Can I chill? Or are you busy?”

Y/N looked back at the jobs she would be applying for later but closed her laptop to show Tiana she had all her attention. Tiana put Y/N’s doorstop in under the slit at the bottom, the sound of cutlery being used in the kitchen and someone laughing making Y/N aware that her and Tiana weren’t the only two up before 11am. Sitting down in Y/N’s bed and nicking one of her blankets, Tiana sighed heavily, back resting against the cold concrete wall.

“You know what we were talking about the other day?” Tiana asked, running her hand over the soft fabric of Y/N’s blanket. “About the housing situation next year?”

Over Domino’s three weeks prior, after the pregnancy scare, Tiana had asked Y/N if she had given any thought as to where she’d be living the next two years of uni, as student accommodation provided by the university was only offered to first-years or international students. Y/N, who mostly spent her time either in her head or in a state of unescapable stress, had not. When revealing this to Tiana, she gave her a soft smile, the kind that made Y/N realise she had done good befriending this girl. Curled up in each their blanket and Tiana’s laptop perched on a chair before the bed playing Friends, a pizza in each their lap and the scent of peace in the air, Y/N became aware of the fact that she very much did not think she’d experience anything like this. When she went to uni, she had not thought she’d experience friendship like what her and Tiana shared. And it made her very happy when Tiana asked, “Should we move in together then?”

And so they were. They had been looking at flats, but the two-bed student ones were few, especially in the Battersea, Clapham, Wandsworth, Chelsea and Brixton area. They wanted to stay close to uni, to not have to use the tube as it would be too expensive in the long run.

“We’re going to end up in bloody Hackney if we don’t find a place soon.” Tiana said, crossing her legs.

“We’re both so busy, though.” Y/N reasoned, turning her chair around and resting her legs on the bed. “And besides, Christmas Break starts this Friday, we won’t be able to find somewhere before then.”

Tiana sighed. “Yea, I know. But I so wanted to find something before Christmas.”

“Me too.”

“I found this really nice flat, with hardwood flooring and double beds, but guess where it was?”

“Where?”

“Fucking Holloway.” Tiana rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, nothing nice is anywhere near Battersea uni.”

“Guess loads of pairs are moving in together.” Y/N said. “Finn found a place, he told me last night while we were eating dinner.”

“Really?” Tiana asked. “Where?”

“Alfriston Road. Right by Clapham Common.”

“Of course he’s right by Clapham Common, the lucky git.” Tiana groaned again, taking the elastic band off from around her wrist and putting her hair up in a ponytail. “Why can’t we be lucky?”

“It’s a cruel world.”

“Amen.” Tiana said, looking up at Y/N’s ceiling. “Did he tell you how many he’s moving in with or if it’s just by himself?”

“He didn’t mention anyone, so probs by himself.”

Tiana took her phone out of her hoodie, looking at the time before throwing it down on the bed. “Let’s just keep looking over the Christmas Break, and hopefully we can go to some viewings when we get back.”

Y/N nodded, looking to her open door as the door into the kitchen opened and closed. She saw Annie reaching for the door handle to walk up to the second floor. Never before had Y/N concluded and done something this fast, but she got an idea the second she saw Annie.

“Annie?”

The flatmate looked in at Y/N, giving her a small smile.

“Wanna come chill?”

The smile grew bigger and Annie walked into Y/N’s room, sitting down on the bed next to Tiana who gave her some of her blanket so they could share it and warm each other up.

“Have you thought anything about your housing situation for next year?”

Tiana lit up, gasping a little as she laid a hand on Annie’s thigh, grinning so big that you’d think her face would split in two. Annie, most likely thinking Tiana mad, stared at Y/N with a bit of an open mouth, shaking her head.

“Not really.”

“Do you want to move in with the two of us?” Tiana asked, having caught onto Y/N’s train of thought pretty quickly.

Annie seemed a little shocked, letting her brown eyes scan Tiana’s face and then Y/N’s, going back and forth between the two. Trying to show her with a small smile that it was okay for her to say no, Y/N moved her chair closer to the bed, not wanting Annie to seem intimidated in any way, but also wanting to let her know that she really wished she would say yes. But Annie’s facial expression softened, somehow seeing it on both of her flatmates’ faces that they truly hoped she would move in with them.

“Yea.” Annie said. “Yea, I think that would be good.”

“Yay!” Tiana clapped her hands together before throwing her arms around Annie and laughing into her shoulder. “We’re going to have the best time together, I just know it!”

“We have been trying to find a two-bedroom flat, but it’s literally impossible.” Y/N explained, smiling at Annie.

“God,” Tiana sighed. “We were so scared we’d end up in Hackney, and you just saved us. There are so many three-bedroom places out there, especially around Battersea and Clapham. Oh, my God,” Tiana got out of Y/N’s bed, clapping and jumping up and down. “We might actually find a house together and we’ll have the best time!” She opened her arms, giggling. “Group hug!”

Y/N laughed and both her and Annie got up, the three of them embracing each other and Tiana jumping up and down, her excitement too much for her body to handle. The three friends just stood there holding onto one another, knowing that this might just be the best decision of the year. Euphoria filled all of them, security of having a small indication of what the future would hold for them making the small gang hold onto one another even tighter. They hung out some more, looking at some flats and just chatting about anything and everything. Spencer joined them for a bit, sitting on Y/N’s floor and helping them find someplace nice to live. Whenever he had the time, he’d spend time with the flat, but he was incredibly busy with uni and would mostly spend time in his room. However, he mostly liked hanging out like this when he wasn’t studying; in a relaxed and quiet environment. Spencer revealed he had moved loads growing up, and his dad had shown him what to look for and what questions to ask when going for viewings. He wrote them all down for the gang of three, making them promise to ask him anything if they were unsure about a flat or anything of the sort. As he left and walked on his way to the kitchen, a shout from Ian’s room sounded, clearly excited to see Spencer, and the two boys went into the kitchen where Finn and Becky were hanging out.

Annie left after a while also, explaining that she had a report due tomorrow that she needed to finish. So, once again, it was just Y/N and Tiana in Y/N’s room. Getting up to close the door, Y/N put her laptop back on her desk before turning to Tiana who had suddenly grown very quiet. If it was one thing Y/N didn’t do, it was press for information that wasn’t hers to ask for. Like why Tiana was quiet, or why she had a very distant look in her eyes Y/N had never seen before. Instead, she waited it out till Tiana snapped out of whatever train of thought she had been on, eyes meeting Y/N’s. Y/N let her stare speak volumes, making Tiana sigh heavily as she knew what Y/N was doing. She folded her hands in her lap.

“Danny and I stopped seeing each other.”

Y/N frowned a bit, crossing her arms as she kept silent.

“He… He just said he didn’t want to any longer.” Tiana said. “And I don’t know what to do anymore- What to do with that information. He’s obviously done with us, but… I don’t… I don’t think I am.”

With that, Y/N got out of the chair and sat down with Tiana. Draping the fluffy blanket over herself as well, Y/N wrapped an arm around her friend, silently offering her shoulder to lean on. And Tiana accepted. Head on Y/N’s shoulder and her eyes staring blankly out into nothing, Tiana did not elaborate. Did not air any theories as to why Danny would break them up, or if they had even been serious enough to consider themselves a couple in the first place. But Y/N wouldn’t press for information, wouldn’t force Tiana to say anything she did not want to. It was so unlike Tiana not to talk, not to think out loud, and Y/N knew that if she did not, it would all end in her crying. Danny and Tiana had seen each other loads, had hung out at Danny’s flat in Cotton Row and in Tiana’s room in Westbridge, and it would be weird for Tiana to continue on with life at uni without Danny around her. So, instead of telling Tiana she would be better off without the twat that was Danny Hales; that she could do better than him, Y/N let her embrace speak for her. It was no use talking when talking would cause even more pain; to put words to your feelings and thoughts when your body was already doing that for you. So, the two friends just sat there, leaning against one another and not speaking, because neither of them had to.

It didn’t matter what day of the week it was, students would always found a reason – or just not give a reason at all – to drink. Maybe it had been a rough week; maybe the essay you handed in last night was so shit it gave you a headache; maybe it was because you missed the taste of alcohol on the back of your tongue. Whatever reason, flat 34 of Westbridge had decided to sit down together in the kitchen that Sunday to drink. Tiana, Becky and Y/N had gone to Tesco to get some alcohol each. Tiana helped Y/N pick a bottle of white wine, while both Tiana and Becky got vodka and some cranberry juice themselves. Y/N tried not to make it show just how much she disliked the mere sight of cranberry juice. When they got back, Y/N worked some more on her violin, trying to get the Paganini Caprice No. 24 right. After rehearsing it over and over and over, Y/N seemed to finally start to get the hang of things. She suddenly felt incredibly relieved, like a weight was beginning to lift from her chest and shoulders. After weeks of preparing, she was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. With some more days of rehearsing, she would be ready to go for the exam on Tuesday.

Evening came, and Y/N walked out into the kitchen to make herself some dinner. Finn, Ian and Spencer were already sitting by the table eating, giving nods of greeting before continuing on with their conversation.

“That’s what Wade said, at least.” Finn said, shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth. “On Thursday.”

“But ain’t their flat like… really small?” Ian asked, resting his back against the wall and his speaker in his hand, ready for later.

“Yea, so it’s going to be interesting.” Finn continued, Y/N putting some penne pasta into her saucepan that was starting to heat up. “Probs going to be sick, though.”

“But very crowded and messy.” Spencer continued. Y/N didn’t want to ask what was going on or what they were discussing, the slightly nosy side of her hoped they would elaborate more.

“El and Blessing won’t care, will they?” Finn sighed, sitting back in his chair and sighing heavily. “They rarely care for anyone but themselves, Harry says.”

Y/N looked over at the boys for a second, Ian bobbing his head in agreement and Finn putting his spoon back in his now empty bowl. Quickly, she focused her eyes on her food, swirling a spoon around in her pasta.

“So, Blessing and El are having a party? And neither Wade nor Harry are okay with it?” Spencer asked.

“Nope. Haven’t really been very fond of the two girls since the very beginning, to be honest. Never really spoke warmly of them.” Finn snickered. “Danny is keen, though. And he’s basically the boss, Harry says. Whatever Danny says goes.”

“Huge fan of Harry, are we?” Ian teased, winking at Finn as Spencer snickered. The door into the kitchen opened, Tiana and Becky entering. Y/N smiled at Tiana who walked over to her, giving her a hug as Finn let out a loud laugh.

“Man’s a fucking legend. Simply cannot resist his charm.”

“Who?” Becky asked, sitting now between Spencer and Finn.

“Harry.” Ian said, connecting his phone to the speaker so they could start listening to music.

“Ah.” She nodded, opening her vodka bottle. “Same. Bloody irresistible.”

“You got a thing for him?” Finn asked, getting up to wash his bowl.

“Fancy him like mad. Been trying to make it obvious to him since we started hanging out, but he doesn’t seem to take the hint.” Becky watched Finn as he walked over to the sink, clearly onto something. “You know him well, yea?”

“We chill abouts every day, yea. Why?”

“Ti, can you fetch me a glass, please?” Becky smiled at Tiana who did as she was asked, sitting down in a free chair afterwards. “Thanks.” Becky turned her attention back to Finn. “Could you help me out then?”

Finn put his bowl in the dish drainer. “Want me to tell him you wanna shag?”

“Don’t be blunt about it.” Becky rolled her eyes. “Just ask him if he’s interested and then talk me up.”

“Why can’t you just do it yourself?” Finn walked back and sat down, arms crossed over his chest.

“Because the times I’ve tried talking to him we’ve been around loads of other people, and it really hasn’t been the time.”

“But if you’re hammered at a party, that is the time to talk to him.”

Finn and Becky continued to talk, but Y/N zoned out, not really in the mood to listen in on a conversation she did not care for. She finished her dinner and walked over to the table just as Annie emerged, sitting down beside her. Everyone got their alcohol out, and the flat was at it again. Y/N ate her pasta while sipping on her white wine, feeling the effect of the liquor as early as she always did. She had never really been used to drinking back home in Hawkley, and almost felt ashamed at how fast she felt a little dizzy from the alcohol wrapping itself tightly around her brain. She tried not to say anything, though. Just eating her pasta and keeping quiet unless otherwise spoken to. Once she was done however, she got up out of her seat and walked over to the sink, swaying a little. Ian howled with laughter.

“You alright, Y/N?”

Y/N smiled back at him, and the rest of the gang laughed along. She came back after washing up her dishes, the night continuing on in a blur. They just sat talking, singing along to Don’t Look Back in Anger and moaning about how much each one of them had to do for the tons of exams they had this coming and last week before Christmas. Tiana was complaining about how they should have gotten a Christmas tree for the flat, and at the thought of Christmas, of going home to his family, Finn started crying a bit. It was an incredibly fun night. And around 00:30am, Finn got a snapchat from Wade.

“Bloody hell.” He mumbled. “Boys, look at this.”

He held his phone out for everyone to see. Cotton Row flat 8 did not look good. Alcohol was spilled on the floor, one of the chairs in their little kitchen was ruined, glass was shattered, and something brown was smeared all over their white cupboards.

“Looks like the party El and Blessing held went to literal shit.” Tiana said, pointing to the cupboards, making Y/N giggle.

Finn started texting Wade, concentration etched in the furrows of his brows. The party at flat 8 Cotton Row was soon forgotten as conversation rose around the table again. Y/N sipped the last of her wine, eyes gliding over the room. With the alcohol buzzing through her body, hot numbness in her shoulders, fingers and toes, Y/N felt oddly at peace. The people around the table were people she had now lived with for three months, and she felt very calm around them. Like if she opened her mouth right now to say something, she was somehow sure they wouldn’t look at her weird and mock her. It was a good feeling. And some minutes later, Y/N’s phone vibrated. Thinking it was a text from Edward, she fished the phone out of her pocket to answer him.

Harry Eloise and Blessing had a party at our flat.

Just reading his name made an involuntary smile creep onto Y/N’s face. Biting her bottom lip so no one around the table would see her grinning, she typed back to him.

Y/N Finn showed us a snap Wade sent.

Harry It’s ridiculous. They let people into my room and now it’s fucking disgusting in there.

Y/N frowned a little.

Y/N They let people into your room? Why?

Harry Because they’re both dead from the neck up.

Y/N looked up from her phone to think, but quickly looked down as another text came rolling in.

Harry Said they’d clean it up in the morning, but I don’t really feel like sleeping in a room smelling of apples Sourz.

Y/N Does it smell vile?

Harry Not vile, just of bad memories from my 16-year-old self drinking a whole bottle and throwing up lime green sick at 4am in my bed.

Y/N giggled, and Tiana quickly looked over, eyebrows arched.

“What’s this?”

“Just Edward sending me a meme.” Y/N explained.

Tiana cocked her head a little before looking away from Y/N. Y/N knew she knew it wasn’t Edward she was texting and was very grateful that Tiana didn’t press her for information. Turning back to her phone, Y/N answered.

Y/N I’ve never had some.

Harry You haven’t?

Y/N Nope.

Harry You’re not really missing out. Tastes like sweet piss.

Y/N bit her tongue from laughing out loud. She looked up as Finn threw his head back and laughed, clearly amused by something Spencer had said, who was also laughing. Y/N looked around at everyone, Taking Body by Tove Lo playing in the background as her flatmates started a loud conversation again, laughter hanging comfortably in the air.

Harry Smells like sweet piss as well. Can’t wait to literally gain 5 stone just inhaling Sourz all night.

Y/N You could sleep here.

Y/N didn’t register she was typing it until she had sent the text off to Harry. He usually answered right away, always quick to get back to anyone who wanted his attention, but at this he seemed to stop for a bit. Y/N watched her phone intently, her anxiety taking over as she started typing another message apologising, saying that someone took her phone and sent that message to him as a joke. If there was someone she didn’t want to scare away, it was Harry. She had no idea why, but the time they had spent together had made her very happy, and he seemed to care for her well-being more than most of her friends from back home in Hawkley. She didn’t want him to think that she was offering to have sex with him, that that was the only reason she wanted him to come over. She just didn’t want him to be uncomfortable in his own house. And besides, if El and Blessing said they’d clean it up the next day, then Harry wouldn’t need to sleep over two nights in a row. Y/N was about to hit send.

Harry You sure?

She blinked. Did he want to then? He wasn’t weirded out by her asking? So many questions ran through Y/N’s mind, and none could be answered unless Harry showed up and actually stayed the night.

Y/N Yea.

Harry Cheers. On my way. See you in 10.

Y/N put her phone back on the table, not really knowing what she had just done. If she had not been drunk, then she wasn’t sure she would’ve even had the balls to ask, but with alcohol in her system, asking Harry hadn’t seemed to scary. Not that she thought he’d cut her off if she ever offered her room for him to sleep in would he need it, but putting herself out there, exposing herself to possible rejection, made Y/N so uncomfortable she felt a slight cold shiver go up her spine at the mere thought. Y/N watched as Finn went up to walk to the bathroom and bit her lip as her eyes fell to her phone again. Harry would be here any minute now, and for some reason she felt nervous. Harry would never make her uncomfortable, she knew that, but just being around her made her nervous in a way she had a hard time explaining.

Harry Outside.

Y/N got up from her chair, taking her phone with her and leaving her empty wine bottle on the table. Walking over to the door, she was stopped by Tiana’s cough.

“Where are you going?”

Y/N blinked, mouth falling open as she thought of a reply. “A-A bit tired. Think I’m just going to head to bed.”

“Aww.” Tiana pouted as the conversation around the table continued on. “Hope you wake up well rested tomorrow. Nightie, sweets.”

“Goodnight.”

“Harry!”

Y/N had just opened the door when Finn, emerging from the downstairs toilet, saw Harry waiting outside their front door. Not really knowing what to do now, Y/N stood motionless as Finn opened the door, letting Harry in. With an arm around his shoulders, Finn walked Harry into the kitchen, the biggest grin on his drunk face as they walked into the communal area, stopping in the middle of the room. Y/N watched from the door, biting her lip.

“What’re you doing here, mate? Want a beer?”

“No, I’m good.” Harry answered as Finn let go of him to fetch one for himself.

“You sure? Everyone’s pretty much legless.”

Harry let go of a chuckle. “No, I’m not really here to get drunk, Finn.”

“Oh?” Finn raised his eyebrows. “To see your handsome mate, is that it?”

Harry laughed, and Y/N noticed how Becky seemed to be so entranced, so incredibly captivated by Harry, that she almost felt a little bad. But as soon as that feeling resurfaced, it disappeared. Because looking down at her exposed cleavage, Becky made sure to press her upper arms against her sides, making it bigger. And for some reason, Y/N suddenly didn’t like Becky very much. She hadn’t really cared much for her obsession with Harry before, but this she did not like.

Harry turned around to Y/N. “You good?”

She nodded.

He smiled before looking back at the rest of the gang. “Have a lovely night. Don’t drink too much, Finn.”

The looks on everyone’s faces as Harry turned around, opening the door for Y/N to walk through, was so priceless that Y/N wished she could’ve taken a picture of it. Everyone sat there open-mouthed, either smiling or just completely dumbfounded. The only one who didn’t look either was Becky, who seemed so offended Y/N didn’t know what would happen next time the two of them had a conversation. Harry gave Y/N a small smile, and she walked through the door and down the hall toward her room.

“You sleepy, then?” Harry asked, hands in his black aviator jacket pockets.

“A bit, but once I start brushing my teeth and stuff my brain kind of tells me to become tired enough to go to bed, if it makes sense?”

Harry giggled, walking into Y/N’s room and closing the door. “No.”

She smiled, rolling her eyes at him. “I don’t know how you want… how you want…” She gestured at her bed, avoiding his eyes.

Harry smiled. “I’ll take the floor, Y/N. It’s carpeted.”

“Right.” She nodded. “But do take all the pillows and blankets in my bed and make yourself comfortable on the floor, yea? I know it’s carpeted but once I slept on a carpeted floor and my back hurt for a week.”

Harry laughed, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the hanger by the door. He was wearing a pair of black drawstring waist joggers, a pair of white vans, and a white tee shirt. His glasses were perched on his nose, hair in disarray, but Y/N found him so handsome just then that there didn’t seem to be anything wrong about his hair being a little greasy or a spot starting to form on his chin.

“Why did you sleep on a carpeted floor?” Harry asked, taking his shoes off and walking over to Y/N’s bed to take the 500 blankets and pillows to make his own bed on the floor.

“A friend’s birthday party. I didn’t bring a sleeping bag or air mattress myself.” She said, putting some toothpaste on her toothbrush. “So, I had to sleep on the floor.”

Harry frowned, making his bed. “That’s rough. They could’ve at least given you a proper bed to sleep in if it was at a friends’ house.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders as she started brushing her teeth. “Didn’t really care.”

Harry stopped putting blankets and pillows on the floor to look over at Y/N, a frown on his face. They shared a glance through the mirror in front of Y/N, and her heart started racing a little.

“Didn’t really have any nice friends back in Hawkley if I’m being completely honest.” She said through her toothbrush, not caring that Harry saw the white of the paste at the edge of her mouth.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“No need to be.” Y/N said, trying to smile. “I’m here now.”

At this, Harry softened a bit, the edges of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Yea.” He said, something in his voice she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “You are.”

Silence fell over them then, and Y/N watched as Harry made himself comfortable. Laying down on the floor, he whipped his phone out and started texting away and looking through his Instagram feed. Y/N spat out her toothpaste and put face cream on, making sure to rub it in good and softly before she turned all the lights except for the fairy lights above her bed off. She crawled into her bed, still fully clothed and put her duvet comfortably over her frame. Sighing deeply, Y/N opened her phone as well.

Tiana OH YM FUCKING GOD YOU AND HARRY??????

Tiana Y/N I SWEAR TO GOD WHAT THE FUCK

Tiana YOU AND HARRY

Tiana ARE YOU SHAGGING?? TELL ME YOU’RE NOT ONLY SHAGGING HIM HE’S WAY TOO CUTE TO ONLY BE A SHAG

Tiana BECKY IS SO FUCKIGN MAD OH MY GOD Y/N

Giggling, Y/N answered Tiana.

Y/N El and Blessing’s guests trashed his room so I offered my floor for the night.

Tiana So you’re just friends?

Y/N Yea.

Tiana Sounds fake, but okay.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Harry said a she put his phone on silent and turned it off. “What is your favourite thing to eat in the whole entire world?”

Y/N frowned. “Favourite… thing? You mean food, right?”

“No.” Harry said. “I mean thing, like do you enjoy eating loo rolls or books better?”

Y/N laughed, and so did Harry, grinning up at her in the faint light above her.

“No, I mean foods, yea.”

Y/N hummed as she thought for a bit. “Probably Caramels.”

“Caramel?”

“The Scottish biscuits?”

“Oh!” Harry nodded. “Right. Yea, yea, yea. They’re fucking delicious.”

“I know!”

Harry smiled. “Mine has got to be Chinese takeout. Tastes as good the morning after as it does fresh.”

“Never had it.”

Harry paused. “You’ve never had Chinese?”

“I come from a small village in the middle of nowhere in Hampshire, of course I haven’t.” Y/N said. “I’ve basically been eating Sunday Roast seven days a week for 19 years.”

Harry huffed. “Nothing better than a good Sunday Roast, yea?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Y/N agreed.

“Best thing about a Sunday Roast?”

“The Yorkshires.”

“What?!” Harry narrowed his eyes. “No way! It’s the potatoes. Everyone knows the roast potatoes are the best thing about life itself.”

“I stand by what I said.”

“Roast potatoes with gravy?” Harry suggested. “Come on, it’s the best thing invented.”

“It’s good, but not as good as Yorkshires with gravy.” Y/N giggled as Harry closed his eyes in frustration. “Sorry.”

Harry removed his glasses, rubbing his hands over his face. “I cannot believe this.”

“Can’t believe you’ve done this?”

Harry’s arms fell to his sides. “A Vine reference, huh?”

“You know them?”

“Know them?” Harry smiled. “I breathe them, darling.”

Y/N giggled. “Good, couldn’t have been seen with you if you didn’t.”

Harry smiled, rubbing at his eyes. It was 1am after all, so no wonder both of them were tired and ready for bed. But Y/N started talking before she could help herself. She saw the tattoos on his right arm, from his elbow and down to his wrist. All the numbers she had been thinking about for well over a month now. Needing to know what they meant.

“Your tattoos.” Y/N blurted. “What do they mean?”

Harry put his glasses on again before holding his arm up so they both could see them. “Promise not to think I’m a bloody plonker for it?”

“You already are in general so-“

“-Alright!” Harry looked up at her, making her laugh. “Don’t hold back! Do fire off insults!”

“I’m sorry!” Y/N chuckled. “I won’t think you daft. Go on.”

Harry held his arm up again. “It’s all the articles that made me want to study Law.”

Y/N smiled a little, intrigued.

“Which articles?”

“Most from the Human Rights and Equality Commission.” He explained. “The Human Rights Act.”

Without thinking, Y/N reached forward and placed her index at the very top where 2.1 was written. Slowly she let her finger trace down until it reached Harry’s pulse, to the light blue veins there, that beat along to the rhythm of his heart. Harry looked up at her, studying her make-up less face and the look on her face. He hadn’t expected her to touch him like this, to want to know about his tattoo, to want to know him like this, but he couldn’t help but want to share every little detail of his life with her. So, tearing his eyes away from her face, he glanced at her finger until she drew back, wondering if she had felt just how quick his heart had been beating.

“2.1.” Y/N said, eyes taking in the tattoos.

“Article 2: Right to life.” Harry said. “’Everyone’s right to life shall be protected by law. No one shall be deprived of his life intentionally save in the execution of a sentence of a court following his conviction of a crime for which the penalty is provided by law.’”

Y/N met his eyes. “You know the articles?”

He smiled. “Each and every one.”

Y/N smiled back, looking at his forearm. “10.1?”

“Article 5: Freedom of expression.” He started. “’Everyone has the right to freedom of expression. This right shall include freedom to hold opinions and to receive and impart information and ideas without interference by public authority and regardless of frontiers.’”

Y/N, incredibly fascinated, went on. “7.1?”

“Article 7: No punishment without law.” Harry smiled at how much she wanted to know. “’No one shall be held guilty of any criminal offence on account of any act or omission which did not constitute a criminal offence under national law at the time when it was committed. Nor shall a heavier penalty be imposed than the one that was applicable at the time the criminal offence was committed.”

Y/N closed her eyes, the sound of Harry’s soothing voice lulling her to sleep. “You really know all this?”

“Yea.” Harry let his arm rest beside him. “I do.”

Y/N smiled. “That’s so impressive.”

“Is it?”

“I didn’t know any of the human rights.” She giggled. “Well, I knew some but not this well.”

Harry smiled, studying her as she fell closer and closer to sleep. “It’s what I study after all.”

“Yea, but you’re good at it.”

“At remembering?”

“Yea.”

“I’ve always found law and stuff like that interesting. It’s what ties all of humanity together in a way, you know? The Human Rights are something we all have in common; something we all strive for and work for.”

Y/N smiled a little wider. “I love that.”

“I want to work in the EU, maybe move to Brussels.”

“Do you know what you’d do? Like what kind of job you’d have?”

Harry shook his head, but when looking up at Y/N, seeing that her eyes were close and her breathing heavy, he stopped himself from answering. She might not be totally asleep, but she was close to it. And he wasn’t about to wake her. She’d had a long day probably. So, giving her a little smile, Harry flicked the switch on the plug, letting the room fall into darkness, and he went to sleep also.

Tuesday, 9 December 2014

“Y/N, your turn.” Mr Goddard said, motioning for Y/N to get out of her seat and walk to the front of the class.

Y/N had been deep in her own thoughts until she heard her name being called. Mentally, she had been in her bed that previous Monday morning, Harry standing hunched by her bed, shaking her lightly awake. She had rubbed her eyes and glanced at him while he smiled at her.

“I’m sorry.” He had said. “Wish I didn’t have to wake you up, but felt weird not telling you that I was leaving.”

Y/N frowned. “You’re… You’re leaving?”

Looking down on the floor she saw that his bed was indeed gone. All her pillows and blankets laid folded on her desk. Blinking a few times, she started sitting up in bed.

“No, no, no.” Harry said, pushing her lightly down. “No need to wake up, know you don’t have any lectures on Mondays.”

Y/N frowned. “How?”

“Finn.”

Y/N nodded, looking at her blankets again.

“But I do.” Harry informed. “Completely forgot I did, but I have one in approximately-“ He checked the time on his phone. “-15 minutes.”

Y/N nodded again, not really knowing what to say.

“I’ll see you, yea?”

She nodded again. And then Harry walked out of her room and away. She had not seen him since. But as she rose to her feet in Ensemble I, Y/N forgot all about Harry and Sunday night, Monday morning, and everything in between, before, and after. With her violin in her hand, she walked to the front of class, looking at all of the students before her. Teresa smiled at her, giving her a thumbs up, and Y/N tried to calm herself down, knowing that if she did just that, then everything would turn out fine. Placing the sheets on the stand in front of her just in case, Y/N brought the violin up to her neck and chin. She closed her eyes, trying to relax completely before opening them again to focus on the sheet before her, and then on the piece.

Paganini’s Caprice No. 24 started flowing from Y/N’s violin as she played. With a light grip of her fingers and thumb, bow gliding over the strings quickly, Y/N felt in complete control. If one managed to play a Paganini piece without failing, one felt like the most powerful person in the universe afterward, like playing it was like overcoming a hug obstacle. As much as Y/N loved playing the violin, the feeling afterward when you were done, having completed and mastered a tricky piece, she felt so amazing it was hard to properly put into words.

Pressing her fingers onto the fingerboard as hard and fast as she possibly could, a furrow to her brow as she tried to concentrate. But her mind suddenly went elsewhere. She started thinking about going home. The sight of the Picot Farm when driving down the mud road, trees surrounding her and birds singing all around. Edward in the gate into the farm, waving his arms at her and shouting her name. The cows not even a little bit interested in the vehicle making its way past them. Suddenly, it was very hard to concentrate on the piece. It was hard to move her fingers quick enough and it was hard to see the notes through the blurriness of her eyes.

She failed. Stopping completely once she started hitting the wrong notes; once it all started to sound very bad. Panicked, Y/N looked down at her sheet, blinking away the tears, and then meeting Teresa’s gaze. She smiled at her, mouthing at her to try again.

“Again.” Goddard said.

Y/N knew you got three tried in total. So, she had to play her best this time or the time after. Leaning her chin on the violin again, she glanced at the neck, her fingers lightly pressed against it as she started playing again. She watched her fingers this time, knowing that if she saw herself play then surely she couldn’t do anything wrong. Quickly, her fingers moved over the strings, Paganini once again gracing the room. Everyone was impressed. Y/N was an incredible violinist, she knew this herself as the only thing she was really confident about was her ability to play the violin. When she played and felt the quietness around her, all eyes on her and her violin, she didn’t much mind being the centre of attention. As long as it was the kind of attention she wanted herself, that she created, then she liked it.

But as she started thinking about everyone else in the room, about what everyone else might be thinking of her where she stood, she lost focus again. This time quicker than the one before. It was then that she realised just how bad she had screwed herself over by picking a Paganini piece, especially Caprice No. 24 that needed all the focus and discipline in the world. It was such a complex and fast-tempoed piece, and Y/N knew right then that whichever way she played this next and last time, she would not be able to go through with it.

“Go on, Y/N.” Goddard said.

No matter how much Y/N didn’t like him, there was a tone of encouragement in his voice that made her sigh with relief. She started once again, looking at her fingers and then at the sheet. But she missed another note, placed her index incorrectly, felt a drop of sweat run down the back of her neck, and knew right away that she was done. Removing her violin from her shoulder, she looked at Goddard, giving him the slightest smile before walking back to her seat next to Teresa. The seminar room was a little to quiet, and no one seemed to move or breathe or speak until Goddard called the name of the next student. Y/N put her violin away and sat back up, straightening her back and bringing her phone forth. She found her mum in her messages.

Y/N I’m going home for Christmas today, can dad and Edward pick me up at the train station around 8? Just failed an exam and I don’t want to be here anymore. I’ll leave as soon as my seminar is over.

She put her phone away again, looking up at the boy who sat down in front of the piano. Swallowing hard, Y/N fought the tears from falling, knowing that once one did, the rest of surely follow. Teresa reached over and took Y/N’s hand in hers, squeezing it hard. When looking over at her friend she didn’t look at her, Teresa’s eyes were on the guy playing. And for some reason, not having anyone look at her right then, was exactly what Y/N needed as she felt her bottom lip almost wobble.

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