#i almost repeated their names back to them in a british accent bc it's just like chah-ley like it's so fun to say | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kissinginkitchens · 4 years ago

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Nine: Friday

a/n: happy friday lovies!! I am soooo excited for y’all to read this one bc it was my favvv chapter to write and I still get emo over it :’) also I think I should maybe let you all know that we only have two more chapters left in this series, and I can not thank you enough for all of the love and support you have shown it. It has been such a blast hearing your thoughts and sharing Halani with all of you lovely people, and I can’t believe the fun is almost over :( BUT we still have some time before we have to think about that soooo without further ado here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor

Word Count: 9.5k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight

Monday

Harry takes a deep breath and raises his arms above his head, feeling every vertebrae stretch as he lies flat against the surfboard. The beaming sunlight warms him down to the bone and it threatens to lull him to sleep, but his attention is too occupied with the various sounds coming from each direction. Out of his right ear, he hears the waves lapping against the shore and the faint sound of children’s laughter. From his left, Mitch and Tom engage in a serious conversation about sharks. He lets one foot slide off the edge of the board and wade into the water below, all the while resisting the paranoia that he will be the next victim of Jaws thanks to his friends’ discussion.

“I’m gonna go switch out the camera.” Paul says beside him, already swimming back to the shore.

Harry gives a thumbs up in acknowledgement and lets the back of his hand rest against his forehead. He floats for a moment longer before swinging his other leg into the water and sitting up. His feet gently tread below the surface and he studies the area for any fish sightings, but his shoulders slump in disappointment when he doesn’t find any.

“I just think,” Mitch defends, legs crossed on his own surfboard. “That I would survive way longer than you,”

“It’s not a fuckin’ zombie apocalypse, survival rate depends on how severe the attack is,” Tom shoots back.

“Not if you’re smart,”

“Right, good thinking, mate. Just yell the Pythagorean theorem and swim away while the bloody thing tries to solve it,”

“You just don’t get it.”

“Stop bein’ a coward, then, and put your feet in the water.”

Harry shakes his head in amusement and continues scanning the scene for something else to occupy his attention. His eyes momentarily land on a couple in the distance, the pair facing each other on their shared surfboard and laughing. He smiles softly and glances back to the shore where his group has set up camp for the afternoon. Squinting, he tries to determine the time of day using the sun’s position overhead, but quickly gives up and swims back to the beach. The sand clings to his wet toes as he jogs over to his bag and digs inside for his phone. The time reads 2:37–Alani’s shift will be over soon.

She stifles another yawn and punches in her customer’s order, re-typing it when she realizes that it’s littered with errors. Her mind had been in a permanent fog since she woke up at 6:45 this morning. Harry had already slipped out by the time she reached over for him, but he left a note on his pillow this time.

GOOD MORNING SWEETS!

SORRY I HAD TO JET SO EARLY :( I’LL SEE YOU AFTER WORK.

H ☼

P.S. ALREADY MISSING YOUR LITTLE SNORES ♡

As if on cue, Alani’s phone vibrates in her back pocket and she slips it out to read the new text.

Harry: Meet me at Honoli’i after your shift?

She really wants to, but she’s also in desperate need of sleep.

Alani: Gonna take a power nap first, but I’ll be there

Harry: Can’t wait xx

********

In the distance, Harry hears The Cure blasting from a car in the parking lot. He hums along and picks at his bowl of fruit, saving the kiwis for Alani who once said they were her favorite. Jeff and Paul laugh about something between the two of them before the director catches Harry’s attention.

“How long you planning on staying here?” he asks.

Harry checks his phone again and the time reads 4:35. He wasn’t entirely sure how long Alani’s nap was supposed to last, but just as he’s about to answer, a text comes through.

Alani: Heading over. See you soon, sunshine💗

He smiles softly and shuts his phone off. “I actually have a surfing lesson at five. But I’ll meet you guys at the house after.”

Paul, the two Jeffs, Mitch, and Tom bid Harry farewell and decide to take a drive along the coast before heading to dinner. They mention the name of the restaurant they plan to go to, but Harry knows he’ll probably skip it and take Alani somewhere else. He sits back on his elbows, watching the palm trees sway in the breeze, when suddenly his vision goes dark when he feels hands over his eyes.

“Guess who,”

“The Queen of England?”

“Yes and I’m here to colonize your land and steal your jewels,” Alani jokes in a posh British accent. She leans over his head so they partake in an upside down kiss before settling into the sand beside him.

“You’ve already had my family jewels,” he teases with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You are so insufferable sometimes, I swear to God,”

Harry lies back and rests his head in her lap with a shit-eating-grin plastered to his face. The damp locks along his hairline are curled and Alani twirls the pieces between her fingers.

“Saved y’some kiwis,” he informs her, nodding in the direction of his tote bag.

“Aw thanks, baby,”

“How was your day?”

Alani removes the lid and pops a slice of kiwi into her mouth. “Long, boring, tiring. A lot better now,”

“Feel the same way,”

“How’s your project going?” she questions, curious about his recent, mysterious whereabouts.

He shrugs. “S’fine, yeah,”

“What exactly is it, again?”

“It’s a,” Harry starts slowly. “Video thing… kind of,”

Alani narrows her eyes and lifts another piece of fruit to her lips. “Meaning?”

“It’s like—following uh.. the album ‘n stuff,”

“Ah the elusive album,” Alani nods. “Will I ever get to hear any of it?”

“Yeah,”

“When?”

“Dunno,” he blinks. “When’re you gonna let me read that article of yours?”

She smirks and taps her fork against her lower lip. “When it’s ready,”

“Then I’m withholding my thing ‘til it’s ready too,”

“That’s not fair,” she objects. “My article is contingent on your music,”

“One song,” Harry bargains, holding up his index finger. “In exchange for one paragraph. Seems fair to me,”

“Deal,”

He sits up suddenly and opens his mouth as an unspoken request for a kiwi. Alani tosses it in his direction and to her surprise, he catches it effortlessly.

“You really are a freak of nature,” she marvels. “What can’t you do?”

“Stay away from you, apparently,”

“Ditto,”

“D’you wanna head to the water for a bit?” Harry asks, his eyes landing on the board cast to the side.

Alani nods. “Sure thing,”

She strips down to the pink two piece underneath her clothes and accepts his outstretched hand. They shuffle through the sand, joint hands swinging, but Harry stops and scans her face when they reach the edge.

“What?” Alani asks, already dipping her toes in the water.

He runs his thumb over hers and starts hesitantly. “I know the water is kind of…”

“Oh,” she finishes when he trails off. “Yeah. I mean, for the most part I’m okay with it. Last time was just—I wasn’t expecting it,”

“I’m really sorry for that.” Harry apologizes with a somber look in his eye.

Alani reaches her free hand out to his cheek and offers a comforting smile. “No, it’s okay. I actually used to be pretty good at surfing,”

“Oh?”

“Haven’t really done it in years, though. I’m probably really rusty now,”

“Well maybe it’s time to get back on the horse,” Harry urges, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of her palm before leading them further into the waves. Alani gets up on the board first and it's clear that she’s a natural despite the lack of practice. Her muscles fall into a mesmerizing rhythm as they repeat the very motions she had done thousands of times before her accident. Harry’s eyes carefully study the precision of her determined arms slicing through the water and the way her feet gracefully meet the board once she’s found a strong enough wave. She glides back to the beach and revels in the familiar feeling of the ocean breeze against her skin. Harry whistles from the distance as she reaches the shore, turning back to him with a wide grin and two thumbs up.

“Your turn,” she calls, paddling towards him on her stomach.

Harry replaces her on the board and winces. “Maybe I should’ve gone first,”

“You’re gonna do great,” Alani insists. “Tighten your core muscles. Oh! And bend your knees, not your back. Just trust your instincts and follow through,”

He follows her advice and to his surprise, does well, though not nearly as graceful as she had. Despite this, Alani cheers from the side as he glides back to the beach. Harry takes a bow once his feet have safely met the sand below.

“I knew you could do it,” she beams when he swims back to her.

“Couldn’t have done it without my amazing coach,” he shoots back, leaning down to press a salty kiss to her lips.

With Harry’s help, she swings her leg over the board and sits so that they face each other. Their legs paddle gently below the surface and his hand finds the top of her knee, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

“You were incredible out there,” he muses. “Can’t even tell that you’re out of practice,”

She wrings her hair out and fastens it into a low bun at the base of her neck. “Guess it’s like riding a bike—the muscle memory and all that,”

“You’re a great coach, you know. Cause I usually just wipe out,”

“That’s normal,” Alani nods. “You have to get used to falling. And wait for the right wave,”

Harry admires the way the afternoon sun sets her aglow, skin shimmering and golden under the rays. “How d’you know when it’s the right one?”

“You just feel it I guess. It’s like a gut instinct that you have to follow. And no second guessing yourself, either, cause that’s when you mess up,”

“What if you do go for it and you still wipe out?” He questions, something besides surfing in the back of his mind.

Alani sighs. “Then you wipe out,”

“You just have to trust?”

“You just have to trust,”

Harry hums as he considers this. Three burning syllables bounce around in his skull, but he suppresses them for the time being. Carefully, he lifts himself to his feet and motions for Alani to do the same. It takes them a second to find their balance on the board, but eventually they do and Harry brings her closer with a protective hand on the middle of her back.

“D’you trust me?” he murmurs.

Alani studies the different shades of green in his irises and feels a flutter deep in the pit of her belly, so she decides to take her own advice and presses a soft kiss to his warm lips before responding.

“Yes.”

Carefully, Harry takes a step back and twirls Alani before pulling her flush to his chest and swaying to the music stuck in his brain. As best they can, the pair dances on the surface of the board but Harry’s foot gets caught in a slick spot and he tumbles backwards, bringing Alani with him. When they emerge, his heart races in worry, but the knot in his chest eases when he hears her laughter.

“Y’okay?” he checks.

“Yeah,” she assures him, her legs snaking around his torso under the water. “I’m alright.”

The sky turns pink as they continue to wade peacefully in the water, and the entire time Harry finds himself fixated on the weight of the three little words nagging at the back of his brain.

********

Tuesday

“Say it again,”

“No,”

“Please?”

Harry shoots Alani an unamused look through the corner of his eye. “Dunno what’s so funny about it,”

“Just say it one more time,” she pleads with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Tuesday,”

“Chews day,” Alani mimics and Harry rolls his eyes.

“You’re so clever,” he huffs. “Really, a true comedian,”

She giggles and leans over in her seat to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s cute!”

“Yeah, whatever,”

“Okay, just one more—”

“Alani,” Harry chuckles, more endeared than irritated. “Don’t make me turn this car around,”

She pouts playfully and returns to watching the trees and passing cars. “At least I’m not asking you where we’re going,”

“You are so stubborn,” he shakes his head. “I told you we’re almost there,”

“I just don’t understand what it is with you and keeping secrets,”

“It’s about the mystery, darlin’, it’s romantic! Just trust me, okay? Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Alani nibbles at the skin on her lower lip and folds her arms. “No,”

“Okay, then,” Harry says finally. “Now change the song. I let you have fun with one Taylor, but it’s getting old,”

“Hater,” she grumbles, shuffling through the rest of her playlists before settling on Madonna.

Harry’s finger taps along to the beat against her thigh and his lips turn up when he hears Alani singing along. Her eyes are focused on the road ahead of them as she pretends to be in a music video of her own, creating hand gestures and choreography to accompany the lyrics. The chorus builds and she belts out the words as if her life depends on it.

“I’m crazy for you!” She performs, squishing Harry’s cheeks between her hands. “Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true. I never wanted anyone like this, it’s all brand new. You’ll feel it in my kiss,”

Alani presses a slobbery smooch to the side of his face and he groans, laughing when she continues melodramatically. The song goes on for another minute and Alani sings passionately out of tune, but it makes Harry’s heart swell. He briefly considers joining her, but decides to let her have her moment, too amused by the way she’s caught up in the emotion. When it’s finally over, she slumps down in her seat with a dazed look in her eye.

“Gotta love the 80s,”

“Maybe I should let you join the band,” Harry suggests.

“Really?

“No,”

Alani gasps in mock offense, her eyes wide. “Hey!”

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she dismisses offhandedly. “I’m a sweetie,”

“A sweet pain in my arse,”

“Arse? Did you really just say arse?”

“I take it back, you’re just a regular pain.”

The two of them drive for another forty-five minutes taking playful jabs at each other and watching the lush greenery whizz by. Harry had been characteristically cryptic in his instructions the night before, an idea suddenly popping into his mind when Alani reminded him of her day off. He had told her to wear something comfortable and practical, nothing that could flow easily in the wind. Furthermore, he revealed that he would pick her up at exactly 7:00 a.m. which made her eyebrows shoot up.

“Seven?”

“It’ll be worth it, promise,”

“Can we at least get McDonald’s hash browns for the road?” Alani had bargained.

Harry chuckled to himself, too excited to deny her. “Sure thing, sweets.”

Welcome to Waikōloa Beach, the sign read and Alani wondered what could possibly have possessed Harry to drag her out of bed and across the island at the crack of dawn. Her question was quickly answered when they turned onto Keana Place where a lot full of helicopters were lined up and waiting.

“‘Big Island Tours’,” she reads aloud. “Wait a minute, we’re not—”

“Surprise!” Harry beams, reaching behind her seat for a bag.

Alani scoffs, her mind still trying to process. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Come on,” he pleads. “Been dying to do it since I got here,”

“So bring Mitch! Or Jeff, or Tom or literally anyone else,”

Harry gives her a pout and bats his lashes. “But I’d rather be with you. Please?”

“Harry,” she sighs, taking another glance at the helicopters before her. They did seem secure enough, enclosed on all sides, and he had driven an hour and a half just to surprise her with something fun and totally outside of her comfort zone.

“Trust me?” he asks after a minute, kissing her knuckles gently.

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine.”

They exit the SUV and Harry takes her hand, slinging his bag over his shoulder. There’s a short, stocky man with dark sunglasses standing in front of one of the helicopters with a clipboard. He checks his watch when he sees the two of them approaching and reaches out a hand.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Harry,”

“Nice to meet you Harry, I’m Matt,” the pilot says with a firm handshake. “Is this your guest?”

“Alani,” she greets. “Is this…”

“It’s very safe,” Matt assures her with a warm smile.

Harry squeezes her hand gently and looks over their mode of transportation. “How long’ve you been doin’ this?”

“Almost ten years,” the pilot explains. “I was a commercial pilot for twenty-five and then started this when I retired,”

“I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of nervous fliers, then,” Alani speaks up, attempting humor to mask her jitters.

Matt nods with a knowing smile. “Oh yeah. Plenty of anxious girlfriends who kick their boyfriends for dragging them into it, but they always enjoy themselves in the end,”

Alani’s cheeks warm at his assumption of their relationship status, but neither her nor Harry address it. Instead, Harry clears his throat and asks his next question.

“So when can we go up?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Matt offers.

Once the three of them have settled into the aircraft, he hands Harry and Alani each a headset and goes over the basic safety rules. Her heart races and stomach turns, but she takes a deep breath and wills herself to give it a chance. Beside her, Harry is enthusiastically chatting up Matt and being his usual charming self; his confidence is reassuring and she finds herself sinking deeper into his side for comfort. He drapes an arm over her shoulders protectively, sensing her nerves, and presses a firm kiss to her temple. After a few minutes of discussion with the air base over the radio, Matt gives them a thumbs up and signals that they’re ready to go. Another deep breath and they’re off, the ground growing smaller and smaller below. They skim over Waikōloa Village and head west to Waiulua Bay where the water is so clear and blue, Harry has a hard time believing it’s real. Alani peers down at the tiny people all along the coast and in the water and her throat goes dry. She feels Harry nudge her shoulder lightly and looks over to where his finger is pointed.

“Down there you can swim with dolphins,” he says. “Looked it up last night,”

“And we’re not doing that because...?”

Harry flashes a dimpled grin and laughs softly to himself. “How are you not enjoying this?”

“I am,” Alani insists, which is steadily becoming true. She watches in amazement as they hover over the expanse of the lush, green landscape along the coast.

Over the headset, Matt points out some key landmarks and answers more of Harry’s questions. They pass over an active volcano and Alani momentarily feels a rush of terror, but her curiosity takes over as she snaps a photo of the molten lava below. She captures another one of Harry looking out his window before flipping the camera to selfie mode and making a peace sign. He turns to tell her something, but flashes a cheesy grin and presses a kiss to her cheek when he notices the camera. Alani writes a mental note to make it her lock screen later.

After half an hour in the air, Matt points to the cliff on their right hand side and says they’ll be landing there for a bit as part of the tour. A 200 foot waterfall feeds into a small pool and he lands them on a ledge across the way. The three of them exit the helicopter, but Matt says that he needs to check in with the base and lets them explore the site alone for a few minutes.

“This is incredible,” Alani marvels, looking over the edge.

“Knew you’d like it,”

She turns to him and snakes her arms around his shoulders, leaving a small peck to his lips. “Thank you,”

While she had been almost one-hundred percent sure that she would never enjoy a helicopter ride, Alani is glad that she was wrong. She is even more grateful that Harry had encouraged, but hadn’t pushed, her to try it. If Alani had been absolutely against the idea, she knows that he wouldn’t have pressed it any further and would have taken her to do something more her speed, hence the dolphin back up plan. It sometimes felt like they were from entirely different worlds, Harry being more sure of himself and adventurous while Alani was careful and preferred to have things planned. But he made her feel brave and spontaneous without pressuring her to change anything about herself. Harry had seen something special in her and wanted the whole world to see it, too. So he encouraged her to break out of her comfort zone and let her true self shine, but only at her own discretion. Over the course of the past few weeks, Alani had noticed herself opening up to new experiences and loving every minute of it, but this transformative feeling was far from one sided; because of their relationship, Harry learned the value of trusting his own instincts. For so much of his life, he felt like a member of an overcrowded democracy allowing himself to go with the majority rule even if it didn’t particularly please him. From their earliest moments spent together, Harry was inspired by Alani’s determination and self-confidence. He had always cared deeply about other people’s opinion of him and felt that it was his greatest weakness, but she seemed so unapologetically herself at all times. And though Harry sometimes worried that he was simply playing a part for the rest of the world, he never had to question who he was with Alani. She understood him, she grounded him, and amidst all of the unfamiliarity in his new life, she felt familiar and safe.

“You deserve it,” Harry says gently. “To see beautiful things.”

Alani presses their foreheads together and studies his emerald eyes like they’re the rarest gems she’s ever seen. “Well I’m looking at the best damn view right now,”

“Although, I wish you would’ve told me we were going to Jurassic Park, I would’ve prepared my Laura Dern outfit.”

Harry laughs softly and slots his lips between hers, those three, pesky little words nagging at him again. Not yet, he thinks, but almost there.

********

Wednesday

Alani takes an extended lunch and heads over to the recording studio with food for Harry and his friends. He had warned her beforehand that there would be filming, so they agreed to pretend, just for the afternoon, that she was his assistant. However, their true relationship was as much of a mystery to the both of them as it was to everyone else. Alani had considered, on many occasions, asking him to officially be her boyfriend. She didn’t know how else to refer to him when her mom had started inquiring about the Range Rover mysteriously parked across the street every morning. Each time Alani had gotten up the nerve to ask, however, she secretly worried that it was too soon, or worse, that he would say no. Much to her oblivion Harry had also wrestled with this question, and many others, but also feared her response. What they shared was undeniably strong and completely foreign, so they had independently decided not to put too much weight on the situation in fear of bursting the bubble too soon. Neither of them were prepared to deal with the fallout if it all came crumbling down.

“Lunch is here!” Jeff calls from the doorway as he escorts Alani inside.

He motions her over to the table in one corner of the room and helps her lay out the food, thanking her warmly when she declines payment.

“It’s on the house,” she reassures him.

The crew all take turns grabbing their lunch, Mitch ruffling Alani’s hair in a display of gratitude while he swipes his burger, and settle into various chairs and comfortable spots around the studio. Harry is the last one to claim his food and he lingers around the table as he does so.

“Thank you, Ms. Hale,” he offers politely, itching to give her an appreciative kiss.

She nods and returns the professionalism. “You’re very welcome, Mr. Styles,”

“How’s the weather?”

By now, Alani has come to recognize this as his go-to inquiry when he’s really asking for her attention or affection.

“Full of sunshine,”

“Glad to hear it.” he smiles softly. The casual slip of his nickname isn’t lost on him.

“Hey Harry,” the director calls. “Show Jason that Bob Dylan thing you were doing—watch, you’ll love this.”

Harry musters up a pleasant smile and quickly glances at Alani, wanting nothing more than to escape with her for the precious few moments she has left to spare.

“Occupational hazard.” she shrugs as her cue of permission. His fond look turns apologetic before he saunters over to the rest of the group.

Alani watches, amused, as he lifts a guitar and starts strumming a tune that she hadn’t heard before with a Dylan-esque lilt in his voice. The crew all laugh and encourage his impression, but she still wonders what the song is and reminds herself to ask later. After a few moments with the rest of the group, Harry’s eyes wander to Alani munching on a french fry and scrolling on her phone. Jeff notices this too and decides to help his friend out.

“Hey Alani,” he calls. “Come sit with us,”

She looks over to Harry and he grins eagerly, making room on the couch between him and Mitch.

“Alani makes the best smoothies in the world.” Jeff comments to the film crew.

“It’s true,” Mitch adds. “Harry loves ‘em.”

A subtle glare radiates from the singer, but Mitch simply winks in response.

“Well, you guys are my favorite customers,” Alani offers. “But don’t tell the others,”

The whole team makes Alani feel welcome and she’s endlessly thankful for it, making an effort to engage every crew member in some sort of small talk as evidence of her gratitude. Harry enjoys her presence among his friends and how easily she fits in. It serves as further proof of what his gut already knew: she was a missing puzzle piece in the image of his ideal life slowly coming together before his eyes. Alani checks the time an hour later and starts bidding farewell to the group, much to their disappointment. As she slips out the door and over to the Bronco, a familiar accented voice calls from behind. Before she has time to respond, a pair of warm lips meet hers and she hums.

“They’re all goin’ out for dinner at 5,” Harry explains gently. “Come back to the studio then, I have somethin’ I wanna show you.”

********

It’s 5:10 when Alani makes her way back to Napua. Harry had texted her beforehand to say that the door would be open, so she lets herself in and scans the quiet room. She hears the soft keys of a piano, but the room is dim and she has to get closer to see that it’s Harry seated there. Candles are perched around the room and Alani watches her step, reaching a hand to Harry’s shoulder when she reaches him. He stops playing and flashes a soft smile, inviting her to join him on the bench.

“Digging the ambience,” Alani remarks lightly, not entirely reading his mood.

He shrugs. “Just felt right,”

Harry’s fingers return to the keys and he starts with a somber chord that makes Alani’s breath hitch. His vocals are raw and gritty, but stronger than she had ever heard him sing and it nearly moves her to tears. She hangs on every word and burns them into her mind for safe keeping, though she doubts that she could ever forget this moment even if she tried. Harry picks up into the chorus and leaves nothing behind, diving straight into the wave without fear of wiping out. Alani tries, but she can’t contain the tears that spill over her cheek. It’s as if every ounce of apprehension and anxiety, every doubt and moment of insecurity is cleansed from her soul right in this very moment. When the song comes to an end, she immediately wishes to relive it and tries to find the right words in response.

“That was incredible,” Alani clears her throat. “What’s it called?”

“Sign of the Times,” he responds. “Not really sure about it,”

She furrows her brows in confusion, but quickly realizes that he’s being honest and not fishing for compliments.

“Why?”

“It’s… different,”

“Than?”

He thinks for a moment and chooses his next words carefully. “Anything I‘ve ever done before,”

“And why’s that bad?” Alani questions with a comforting hand weaving its way into his hair.

“Dunno,” Harry sighs, leaning into her touch. “I just don’t wanna get it wrong,”

At this moment, “it” isn’t just the song. Everything about his new solo career, and his life in general, is a toss up, and one that he isn’t sure will land in his favor. Alani has no doubts, though, not when it comes to her faith in Harry’s abilities.

“Are you happy?” she asks.

He looks over to her and thinks that he couldn’t possibly be more content. “Yeah,”

“Then you’re already succeeding. If you’re happy with what you’re doing, then no one can tell you that you’re not successful,”

Harry feels his own wave of emotions pooling at the bottom of his lash line and he’s grateful that the low lighting conceals it. He closes the gap between their lips, palm secure against the side of Alani’s face as he keeps her close.

“There’s somethin’ else I wanted to talk to you about,” Harry says gently and Alani feels her heartbeat pick up.

“Okay,”

He isn’t sure how to approach the subject, despite the fact that it’s been the only thing on his mind for days, so he decides to trust his gut and speak from the heart.

“These past few weeks with you,” he starts slowly. “Have been the best of my entire life. When I’m with you, it’s like nothing else in the entire world matters, and nothing bad could ever happen to me because there’s you,”

Another tear rolls down Alani’s face and Harry wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

“All I asked for was a chance,” he continues. “And it feels like you’ve given me the entire world. Do you remember the day when we saw that rainbow?”

“Yes,” Alani nods, voice small.

“You told me to wish for something, and I did. I wished for a home. I didn’t know why, but that word wouldn’t leave me alone after you said it. But I think I understand it now, because I’m in a place I’ve never been before, physically and in my life generally, but you make it feel like home. You bring me home,”

Alani feels as if all of the air inside her lungs has been sucked out, and her grip on Harry’s wrist tightens because she worries that if he lets go, she’ll float away like a helium balloon.

“I know I’m not perfect,” Harry continues, voice wavering. “But this thing we have feels like it could set the world on fire, and I’d gladly walk in the flames for you. So would you please say you’ll be mine and let me prove it?”

“Yes,” Alani breathes, tears of relief and joy still streaming down her face. “But I need a moment to compose an appropriate girlfriend acceptance speech,”

Harry grins and presses their lips together as if she’s the only source of air.

“Seriously,” Alani chuckles when they pull apart. “Cause how the fuck could I top that?”

“Y’don’t need to. Saying yes was all I needed,”

She unclasps her fingers from his, draping her arms around his shoulders instead, and takes a deep breath. “You’re everything, you know that? You’re the sun and the whole universe revolves around you.”

“And you’re the most heavenly moon,” Harry responds thinking back to the meaning of her name. “Mahealani.”

********

Thursday

When Alani’s father had asked for her help setting up a wedding that was taking place at the resort this weekend, she jumped at the chance. It wasn’t often that she got to be involved in the events at Honu, but she adored the luxurious five star hotel and all of its amenities. She had helped her dad cater numerous events over the years and weddings were her absolute favorite, especially because of the beautiful gowns and all of the blissfully happy couples. It felt like a privilege to glimpse into the most special moments in the lives of strangers she would probably never see again. Alani had been tasked with meeting the bride and collecting any last minute meal cards or notes of dietary restrictions from guests. The wedding was to take place the following night, but all the food prep would begin that afternoon in order to adequately prepare.

“I think that’s all. There were just a few last minute adjustments,” the bride, Mila, says pulling out an envelope from her bag.

“No offense,” Alani starts. “But shouldn’t you be resting? I mean isn’t the maid of honor supposed to do all this? Or a wedding planner?”

Mila sighs, an embarrassed smile spreading across her rosy lips. “I know, I’m just a bit of a control freak. I like things done a certain way,”

“Totally understandable,”

“Like the music thing,” Mila rolls her eyes. “It was my fiancé’s idea. He said that DJs were boring and wanted to let the guests choose their own songs, instead. So that was my compromise. I’m trying,”

Alani offers a chuckle and shuffles the last of the cards into her stack. “Sounds like you’re already mastering this whole marriage thing,”

“Are you married?” the bride asks, curiously.

“Oh, no I’m not,”

“Got a boyfriend?”

Alani’s cheeks warm and her lips curl. “Yes,”

“Knew it,” Mila comments with a knowing smirk. “You’re too pretty to be single. And you’ve got the look,”

“What look?” Alani questions.

Mila flutters her lashes and sighs. “The ‘I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it’ look. Like a Disney princess,”

Alani laughs shyly and focuses her attention back to the envelopes in front of her.

“What’s his name?” the bride pries.

“Harry,”

“That’s a good one,” Mila considers tapping her lower lip. “Like the Prince of England. Maybe you will be a princess, after all,”

Alani is amused by the irony of her statement, but she chooses not to disclose the fact that her boyfriend actually is British, albeit, not a Royal. Instead, she chooses to deflect the attention back onto the bride.

“And what’s your lucky guy’s name?”

“Chad,”

“Like the country,”

“Yeah,” Mila giggles. “Like the country,”

“And what’s he like?”

Mila rests her chin in her hand and a dreamy look settles into her hazel eyes. “Funny. He wanted to be a comedian, but he became a lawyer, instead. That’s how we met— law school,”

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“Ironic enough,” Mila chuckles. “Family and divorce law. I never thought I’d get married, I mean I literally hear about people falling out of love every day. But the thing about love is that it’s effort, and a lot of people aren’t willing to put in the work. It doesn’t feel like work when it’s the right person, though. Just feels like ‘how can I be the best possible partner to this human that I love so much?’”

Alani considers this, her mind immediately wandering to Harry and all of his thoughtful gestures. “Makes sense,”

“Chad is a patent lawyer,” Mila continues. “He’s the more creative, outgoing one, I guess. He makes things light when it gets too heavy, you know? It’s good to have someone like that,”

“Yeah, definitely,”

“What’s your guy like? What does he do?” Mila asks with a flirty grin.

“He’s, uh,” Alani thinks for a second trying to be as vague as possible. “A musician,”

Mila gives an approving nod. “Dreamy. Bet he writes lots of songs about you,”

“Maybe,”

“Don’t be shy,” Mila urges. “Come on, it’s just us girls. Spill,”

Alani thinks for a moment and imagines that the same dream cloud must be present over her own features.

“Well he’s kind, thoughtful, romantic, and wise. Really funny, too. I don’t know he just—he makes me wanna be a better person, really,”

“Wow,” the bride marvels. “Sounds like a hell of a guy,”

“He is,”

Mila leans in conspiratorially and Alani does the same. “Speaking as an expert, I think it’s gonna last forever,”

“You think?” Alani asks.

“Oh yeah,” Mila assures her. “When you’re so used to studying fake love, you get really good at recognizing the real deal,”

Alani offers her an appreciative smile and nods. “Thank you,”

Mila’s eyes light up suddenly and she grabs Alani by both hands. “Hey you should bring him! Yeah, you two should come, I insist,”

“Oh, I—”

“Please, say you will! Maybe he can throw in some good music recommendations to offset the terrible ones,”

Alani chuckles and she knows immediately that Harry would leap at the chance to do so. “Okay, sure.”

“Yay!” Mila cheers, reaching into her planner and jotting a note down. “Harry and Alani at the lovebird’s table.”

********

“Hey, sweets,” Harry beams, pulling up to the front of the hotel in the Cadillac. “Waiting on your boyfriend or are you just in the habit of standing on sidewalks lookin’ cute?”

“The former,” Alani responds coyly. “He’ll be here any minute,”

“And he’s got a pretty girl like you waiting outside like this? You should dump him,”

She shrugs and turns on her heel for a stroll while Harry gently eases off the breaks to follow. “I don’t know, I’m kinda fond of him,”

“S’that so?” he continues with a smirk.

“Yup,” she sighs. “He’s kind of a dork, but I like that about him,”

“Heyyy—”

“And he’s a good kisser. The best at cuddling, too,”

“Sounds like a catch,”

“He is. You two should meet sometime,”

The car comes to a halt and Alani slips inside, scooting all the way down the bench seat next to Harry.

“Funny, you should be a comedian,” he quips.

Alani’s brow furrows and she shoots him a doe-eyed look. “What’s the joke?”

Harry laughs dryly, ignoring the pang of irrational jealousy that strikes him in the chest. “You’re a little too good at this bit, it’s starting to feel like we're not talkin’ about me anymore,”

“Oh, were we supposed to be talking about you?”

His head whips over to Alani who clutches her stomach with laughter. “I’m kidding, baby, of course I’m talking about you,”

“No, who is he?” Harry demands playfully with a deep furrow between his brows. “Tell me, I’ll hurt him,”

Alani slots their lips together and his pout eases into a grin.

“Hey what are you doing tomorrow night?” she asks, feeling the ocean breeze through her hair.

Harry flashes a dimple in her direction. “Anything you want, s’long as we’re together,”

“Will you be my plus one?”

“To?”

“A wedding,” Alani explains. “The one my dad’s catering at Honu,”

His eyebrows raise and he smiles wide. “Are we crashing it?”

“No,” she laughs. “We were invited. I was hanging out with the bride today and she added us to the list,”

“‘Kay, but I’m still gonna pretend we crashed it,”

Alani drapes her arms around his shoulders and leans her head against his. “Where are we going?”

“Damn, I thought I had you distracted,”

“Boyfriend rule #1: You have to tell me where we’re going always,”

Harry narrows his eyes. “That’s not a real rule because surprises are romantic,”

“Too bad,” Alani shrugs.

“But don’t you enjoy my surprises?”

“Usually,”

“Then I’m adding a new rule,” Harry bargains. “The girlfriend can not ask the boyfriend to disclose the location of a date if they’re already in the car,”

“That’s not fair, I was already in the car when the rule was made!”

“Too bad.”

Alani pinches his cheek and slinks back into her own seat. She tells him about the bride and the groom, what she knows, at least, and about the decision to have their guests RSVP with a song of their choice to play at the reception.

“D’you know what you’re gonna pick?” Harry asks.

“Yeah,” Alani nods. “I Wanna Dance with Somebody by Whitney Houston, obviously,”

“Obviously,” he agrees.

“You?”

“Dunno, yet. Have to narrow it down,”

Alani admires the heart-shaped glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Well you better make it good, cause Mila knows that you’re a musician and she’s expecting you to balance out her friends’ shitty music taste,”

“You were talkin’ about me?” he teases.

“Well, yeah, how else do you think you got invited?”

“You have such a crush on me, s’cute,”

Alani playfully pokes his cheek. “We’re literally dating, dummy,”

“Don’t get defensive,” Harry jokes. “Cause I’ve got a crush on you too.”

“God, we’re so annoying.”

Harry grins and presses a kiss to her temple. They pull into the Port of Hilo and he magically produces a picnic basket from the backseat, a bottle of Moët et Chandon rosé peeking out. Alani slips her fingers between his and follows as he leads them to a sizable speed boat anchored and waiting for them.

“The Carolina,” Alani reads, admiring the golden cursive on the side.

“Like someone else I know,” Harry winks.

He escorts her onto the vessel and she waits to see when the captain will join them, but confusion washes over her when she sees Harry poking around with the equipment.

“What are you doing?”

“As much fun as it would be to eat at the dock,” he begins. “I think it would be more fun to take ole Carolina for a spin,”

“You mean you’re gonna drive this thing?” Alani questions, though she doesn’t know why she’s surprised by him anymore.

“Pilot,” Harry corrects. “But yes,”

Alani blinks and tries to wrap her head around the idea of Harry piloting a boat. “And you’re allowed to do that?”

“Sure.”

“Wow,” she marvels to herself with an incredulous laugh. “I’m dating a sailor.”

Harry flashes Alani a wink over his shoulder and before she knows it, they’re heading away from the dock. She carefully stands from the lounging area at the back and sneaks over to Harry, arms wrapping around his torso with her chin propped on his shoulder. He steers with one hand and extends the other, recreating the iconic Titanic boat scene.

“I’m flying, Jack!” he calls over his shoulder and Alani giggles, responding with her best improvised rendition of My Heart Will Go On.

They sail out for a bit longer before Harry stops the boat and turns to her. “Ta da!”

“By jove, he’s done it!” Alani praises.

Harry takes a bow and reaches over for the picnic basket, pulling out the rosé and two champagne flutes. He hands them to Alani and spreads their meal on the lounging area at the back: vegetable stir fry and noodles with chocolate covered strawberries for desert.

“You did all this?” Alani muses.

He takes each flute from her hand and fills them halfway. “It’s a special occasion,”

“I feel like an asshole for not knowing what it is,”

“Don’t,” Harry chuckles, handing her the wine. “I mean it’s not really like—I just realized it,”

“What is it?”

Harry raises his glass and clears his throat. “Exactly three months ago, I got off a plane and I stumbled into a little café where the most beautiful and funny and smart waitress served me about twenty glasses of water until I nearly pissed my pants in front of her,”

Alani giggles at the memory, disbelief settling in when she considers how fast the time had flown.

“And despite all of the embarrassing and idiotic things I’ve done since,” he continues. “She agreed to be my girlfriend, for reasons I have yet to understand. So today I celebrate her, and us, and all of lucky stars that brought our paths together,”

They clink their glasses together and Alani presses a cool kiss to his lips. “Cheers, baby,”

“There’s one more thing,” Harry says, holding a finger up.

Alani scoffs. “It’s like fucking Pandora’s box in there!”

He pulls out a velvet box and her heart stops.

“Wait, what are you—”

“It’s not what you think,” he explains quickly. “Sorry, maybe should’ve thought this through better,”

Harry opens the lid and lifts a gold chain with a crescent moon pendant and a smaller sun in the center.

“Saw it in a shop this morning,” he says softly. “Seemed like fate, so I got it,”

“Harry,” Alani breathes, eyes already glossy.

“D’you like it?”

“I love it! It’s beautiful,” she says, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much.”

He fastens the necklace for her and she admires it with gentle fingers. The sun and the moon, a piece of them cast in gold and resting against her beating heart forever.

********

Friday

“Wow,” Harry gawks, his eyes raking in Alani’s appearance. A baby pink tulle dress falls just above her knee with puffy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, all cinched at the waist with a small bow. Tiny velvet hearts are speckled all over the dress, in true Alani fashion, and a pair of sparkling, pink heels accentuate her toned calves.

“Wow yourself,” she counters, drinking in the peek of exposed skin behind his cream colored blazer. The blue dress shirt underneath is unbuttoned just above the butterfly on his stomach and a cross is nestled in the valley between his pecs. He holds out a bouquet of sunflowers between his ringed fingers and Alani accepts them gratefully, moving to the side so he can step into the house.

“These are gorgeous, thank you,” she says, lifting them to her nose.

“Welcome,” he smiles softly, swiping the pad of his thumb against her chin. “You are gorgeous,”

Alani presses her rose tinted lips to his carefully and pulls back to admire him again. “And you are so good looking it actually makes me mad.”

Harry laughs and pulls her closer for another sweet kiss before he hears the clearing of another person’s throat.

“Have her back by midnight,” Pua teases with her arms crossed. “Or I’ll hunt you down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry salutes before bending down to address Freddie.

Alani passes the sunflowers to her sister with a kiss to her cheek before hooking an arm under Harry’s and heading out. They hop into the convertible and the sun catches the golden pendant around her neck, bringing a soft smile to his face.

“Hope those are your dancin’ shoes,” Harry remarks. “Cause we’re goin’ full Dirty Dancing tonight,”

“Lift and all?”

“Lift and all,”

She runs her fingers over the silver rose on his ring finger. “You know, I think we’re finally gonna nail it this time.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry agrees. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

When they arrive at Honu, the other guests are shuffling from the parking lot and onto the private beach where the reception will take place. Alani plucks a card from her bag to drop into the box at the entrance while Harry pulls a medium sized box from behind his seat.

“You got a real gift?” Alani questions, a light laugh erupting. “We don’t even know these people,”

Harry tucks the gift under his arm and shrugs. “I put your name on it too, don’t worry,”

“Well now they’ll have a giftcard to Ikea and whatever’s in your mystery box.”

“It’s also a giftcard to Ikea, but wrapped in a big box.”

Alani nudges his shoulder playfully and scans the groups mingling and flocking to the mini bar. She waves to a member of her dad’s kitchen staff attending to the hors d’oeuvres before they are greeted by the manager of the guest list.

“Alani and Harry,” she says to the tall woman behind the podium.

“Ah yes,” the woman responds. “The Lovebirds table, number 9.”

“Guess Mila wasn’t joking about that.” Alani chuckles lightly, taking both of their name cards.

Harry locates their table and to his surprise, no one else is present yet, but he pulls Alani’s chair out for her and pushes it back in once she’s seated.

“Champagne?” he asks, nodding to the bar.

“Oui, s'il vous plaît."

He plants a kiss to the top of her head and makes his way to collect their drinks. Alani’s eyes follow the stringed lights overhead and she quickly realizes that they lead to a disco ball hanging above the center of the dance floor. Well done, Mila. She thinks to herself with an approving nod. The colors, she gathers, are lilac and periwinkle, incorporated into all of the floral arrangements and cloth details. They match the color of the sky above and Alani knows that the bride must be ecstatic over this detail. Harry returns with their drinks and sets them down gently onto the white tablecloth.

“None of our fellow lovebirds have arrived yet, huh?” he muses, taking a sip of his champagne.

Alani shakes her head and brings the glass to her lips. “Must be too busy making out in the parking lot,”

“You told me we didn’t have time for that.”

“I’m not gonna ruin my lipstick before we’ve even arrived.”

Harry shakes his fist to the sky and Alani giggles. They both admire the view and the children in the wedding party who are testing how close they can get to the water before an adult drags them away. The sky turns to a shade of cotton candy above them and someone announces that the bride and groom are arriving. Harry and Alani stand and welcome the newly weds with applause and whistles. Mila and Chad share a sweet kiss and the crowd goes wild. One man, most likely a friend of the groom, shouts “I love you Chad!” and laughter erupts. They take their seats and the rest of the wedding party follows suit, which means that the rest of the guests are free to return to their chatting and socializing.

“I’m beginning to think we were put in the time out table.” Harry jokes when they are still not joined by any other guests.

A light laugh escapes Alani’s lips and she looks around. “Yeah I guess so.”

The servers arrive with their meal and the pair eat happily, exchanging witty banter and observations of the scene around them. Harry sucks a piece of linguine between his lips and turns to Alani with a mischievous smirk.

“No,” Alani says, already knowing what he’s up to.

“Don’t leave me hangin’,”

“Eat your food.”

“Alaniii,”

She shakes her head gently and rolls her eyes, but decides to indulge him anyway. Their lips meet in the middle of the shared noodle and Harry smiles.

“Always wanted to try that.”

A few moments later, he notices a card in the middle of the table and lifts it.

“‘Trivia,’” he reads. “‘Test your knowledge of the bride and groom and win a prize.’ Let’s play, shall we?”

“What’s the first question?” Alani asks, peering over to read the small font.

“‘What year did Mila and Chad meet?”

Alani hums, thinking back to her previous conversation with the bride. “They met in law school, that’s all I know,”

“2009,” Harry guesses. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“Definitely Chad,” she replies firmly. “Mila didn’t think she’d ever get married,”

“I thought you said you didn’t know these people,”

“I guess I was wrong,”

Harry squints at the next one. “What are their zodiac signs?”

“I wanna say Virgo for Mila,” Alani suggests. “Maybe… Aquarius for Chad?”

“That’s my sign,” Harry comments, writing down her guesses.

Alani’s brows raise. “No kidding. Makes a lot of sense,”

“What’s yours?”

“Taurus,”

“I don’t know anythin’ about astrology. Are we compatible?”

“Probably not,” Alani teases.

Harry shoots her a disapproving look and reads the next question. “Where did they go on their first date?”

“The movies,” she predicts. “Safe bet,”

“‘Akaka Falls,” Harry writes. “That was ours,”

Alani’s head tilts. “We weren’t even dating then,”

“Yeah but I was tryin’ to win you over, so it counts,”

“Sneaky.”

“Who is the bride’s celebrity crush?” Harry continues. “Hopefully not James Marsden or this guy’s fucked.”

Alani laughs and she pulls him in for a playful kiss to his cheek. The pink sunset dims into a deep navy and the stringed lights twinkle above, setting the whole scene in a romantic, golden glow. Guests walk past their table holding strips of photo booth pictures and Harry’s neck cranes to search for the source. His eyes land on a small line at the other end of the beach and he stands quickly.

“Let’s go,”

“Where?”

“Photo booth!”

To Alani’s surprise it’s an actual booth, curtains and all, and not just some poor sucker tasked with operating a polaroid camera the whole night. They stand in line eagerly behind two groomsmen and brainstorm poses. Once they’re inside, Alani settles onto Harry’s knee and watches as he operates the machine. The screen counts down from ten and they decide to flash a proper smile for the first one. After it’s snapped, Harry sticks his tongue out and Alani widens her eyes in mock surprise. The third one is a candid, slightly blurry one of them laughing after she accidentally poked him in the eye. A lipstick kiss is stamped to Harry’s cheek in the fourth one, but the pair innocently look away in opposite directions. The fifth and final image captures their affection mid kiss. They swipe the two sets of photos and Alani awes, admiring the black and white film strip. Before they make it back to their table, Alani feels a hand on her arm.

“Alani!” Mila beams.

“Hi!” Alani greets, pulling the bride into a hug. “You look gorgeous,”

“I’m so glad you came! I love your dress,”

Mila turns her attention towards Harry and gives him a warm embrace, too. “You must be Harry! So nice to meet you,”

“Thank you for having us!” he says over the music.

“I see you guys put the photo booth to good use,” Mila comments. “Now go dance! There’s an ipad next to the stage, just queue up your songs.”

Alani and Harry bid the bride farewell, but before they leave, Mila leans into Alani’s ear and whispers “he’s a hottie!” with a wink. They set their photos down inside Alani’s purse and Harry leads her towards the dance floor. She punches in her request and he secretly types the song that’s been stuck in his head all week. Fantasy by Mariah Carey is already playing when they reach the floor, so they join in excitedly. Alani’s hips sway and Harry’s head bobs, both of them mouthing the lyrics. The song fades and Alani’s pick begins, which makes the crowd roar.

“The people have spoken and they love Whitney!” she cheers.

Harry twirls her and shuffles his feet. Alani shimmies and sings along, the lyrics falling from her lips like a prayer.

I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me

The dance floor is flooded with bodies jumping and swaying, and the disco ball shimmers above the euphoric scene. Alani and Harry spin, making their way through the crowd and letting the music sweep over them like a magical spell. Beads of sweat form at the back of her neck and she lifts her wavy locks to let the ocean breeze cool her down, but her feet don’t stop moving. Eventually, her song peters out and a familiar guitar fills its place.

“I love this song!” Alani cries, immediately recognizing The Cure.

Harry pulls her closer, despite the warmth radiating from both of their bodies, and presses a passionate kiss to her lips. They are surrounded on every side, but in this very moment under the full moon and shimmering disco ball, Harry and Alani feel like the only two people alive. Their foreheads meet and they sway gently, his hands secure at her waist while her fingers toy with the hair at the base of his neck.

It’s Friday, I’m in love.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #ybmh #ALSO i would just like it to be known that I wrote this before *those* photos so harry get your own romantic gestures >:(#kidding bae <3

31 notes · View notes

taylorswiftreadmydiary13 · 6 years ago

Text

It all started with Tim McGraw

This is how many years ago y’all?

Take me back!

I was maybe 19 years old. Playing soccer at my local community college. Had just gone through my worst break up with the rudest shallow Hal ever. This guy, literally would break my chips out at chilies because “it was going to make me fat.” These were MySpace days. Everyone is just getting use to the influence social media had on your lives. Changing of your top 8, or 16. The importance of your rank on each persons profile. This ex, was my first encounter with a narcissist. His parents tried to pressure me to go to their church... where they were being told California’s money issues were the fault of the gays! Anyone with a tattoo was going to hell (As I covered my left food with my right to hide my tattoo that everyone had already seen & was glaring at) good thing my best friend was going to hell too, she could pick me up! I broke it off with him decided that I was done with boys and relationships and was going to be single for a year!

I was working for the San Jose earthquakes at the time as a blue crew girl. Focusing on soccer and school, family and friends. At work, the other girls and I were to lead the longgggg line of kids and camp coaches onto and around the field before the game. Behind us was a pack of European guys, mostly from the 🇬🇧 UK with all their amazing accents (I was insistent on not melting for them, it was so hard). About 5 of them stepped forward toward me and asked if I was single. I looked at them, smiled and rolled my eyes. My friends spoke up and admitted “she actually just broke up with her boyfriend!” I was blushing so bad...

One boy stepped forward, he looked like an hollister model. Tall, tan, handsome... a little skinnier than my taste in guys but he had a smile that was so infectious... his name was Iwan. He followed me around the entire shift. As an employee, we are there for hours before and after the game. I told him that I wasn’t looking for anything, and actually wanted to be single. He wouldn’t leave me alone insisting that he wouldn’t stop asking for my number. I remember one of the guys, Simon, saying in the best accent “you have very nice teeth and gums.” (Wtf LoL) it made me cover my mouth, Iwan stepped up and said “don’t hide your smile, you have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen!” He gave me these bracelets he had on his arm. I eventually caved in because no one had ever worked so hard for my phone number, and because I didn’t want to get in trouble at work for having another employee from a different department shadowing me the entire game/time. I figured he’d leave me alone and I can figure it out later by either going ghost or engaging.

My friends and I are all giddy over their accents, and how fun they made that shift. They convince me to entertain it and just see where it goes. So we agree to all meet up with all of them the next week. I find out that he is staying with 2-3 other coaches with a local host family. They come here for work as coaches and stay together in hotels, coach these teams and kids and the pitch to the kids/families to “host a coach” for the season. When we get to this families house in Santa Clara... Iwan introduces me to the family... and another coach named Jimmy he was tan, hairy, and the funniest person I had ever met, & another guy named Nick he was totally opposite of Iwan and Jimmy. He was tall like them... but blonde & had the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen. He looked at me silently for what was awkward amount of time before he said Hi but just walked right out the door.

Everyone commented on it. Wondering why Nick didn’t have much to say, how unlike him it was. Jimmy mentioned Nick was probably going out with his stripper girlfriend. (What?!) come to find out she was really a stripper. She, like him, was 22 (older than I was) and apparently it was pretty serious. Ever since they met, nick spent all his time with her. Well... as gorgeous as he was, as beautiful as those eyes were... and as awkwardly long as our stare may have been.... I knew I was “cute,” but I was no where near confident enough to be a stripper. That was so opposite me, so my “feeling” I had about nick was turned into “I’m totally opposite of what he likes...” maybe we won’t get along.

I met a few other friends of theirs. We always hung out in groups. We went bowling. To the movies. Out to eat. Mini golfing. But mostly we just hung out and learned the differences between what we called different things. One time Sam was driving going to turn left, and he turned onto the wrong side of the road! I swore we were going to die. They’d say “merry buns...” and I’d ask if they were talking about Cinnabon... they were apparently talking about Barry bonds ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ suffice it to say we spent most of the time just laughing so hard we almost peed our pants. We would always invite Nick... but he never came.

Iwan finally just decided that I was his girlfriend. I resisted. Insistent that we were friends, but no no no... I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship yet. He grabbed my hand and never let it go. I guess I had a new boyfriend. He was sweet... it was all fun. And part of me was flattered that he liked me that much. I think the most we ever did was kiss. He waited and worked so hard for that kiss too.

& then one weekend they all had to go down to LA for another MLS camp. So off they went. Iwan didn’t have his own cell phone, so we would text and talk through Nicks when Nick was home. I can’t remember if nick went on that trip or not, but I remember getting a text from him saying that Iwan and Jimmy got fired and were being sent back home. I had no way of getting in touch with him, to this day we still never officially broke up 😂 it wasn’t that serious. But I remember thinking “I now have a boyfriend on the other side of the world... with no way of breaking up with him... I’m offially a player from this moment on!” I thanked nick for letting me know and apologized for ever making him feel awkward.

He asked what I meant... well, every time we ALL went out, he always said no. He never ever wanted to hang out with them whenever I was around. On top of that, my self proclaimed boyfriend used his phone to talk to me, that couldn’t have been comfortable. He replied “I never hung out with you because I didn’t want to talk to you.” Damn. So it was me. Harsh Nick, harsh. So I apologized again and said “have a great life.” Like, wtf am I suppose to say to that? Then my phone goes off again and he asks if I want to go watch a game together? Wtf!!!! So I call him... bc wtf sort of message are you sending rn?! He tells me “I liked you, I didn’t want to see you talking to anyone else, so I stayed away. Let’s go grab some lunch and we will just watch the game.”

It was weird. It was spur of the moment. It was everything in the world pushing and pointing me to yes. So I went. Picked him up. We went to a local pub to watch the Man U game. We sat and talked. I don’t even remember what we said... but it felt like a movie. We just got along, as friends. I asked about his stripper gf. He said “she wasn’t my gf, she wanted to be. But with you coming and taking all my friends out with yours who else was I suppose to hang out with? She was cool, but she’s just a friend.” Mmmmhmmm

The group of his friends, and mine dwindled down to just he and I hanging out. We didn’t do anything but enjoy each other’s company. I remember playing soccer 1v1 with him for hours. Laughing so hard that I had to lay down and keep my arms above my head just to catch my breath. He made me laugh like no one else ever had. We were friends. I wanted to make him feel more at home, so I played spice girls and the Beatles every time he got in my car. I remember he said “we don’t have to listen to British singers... let’s listen to your favorites!” I had just got my hands on Tim McGraw’s Live Like You Were Dying Album.

Every now and again, you get your hands on an album that just changes you. It consumes you. And you put it on repeat day in and out for entirely way too long. That was this album for me. So... Nick, meet Mr. Tim McGraw! My favorite song: can’t tell me nothing. We spent the entire spring together, playing and watching soccer, listening to Tim. I decided to take him to a party with my teammates & some other athletes from our college. He went to get me a drink, and somewhere between us walking in and the drink a group of girls heard him and his accent talk. He was cornered and surrounded by all these gorgeous flirtatious girls. And out of nowhere, I felt it burning from the pit of my stomach up to the top of my head. I was jealous!!! I knew I had liked him from the very first time our eyes locked. But I also doubted he would ever like me 1) I’m not stripper confident. 2) I’m young... he was 22. I was just 19. He couldn’t take me to any of the bars or anything. But here I was feeling like he was mine, when he wasn’t. So I went up to him with both drinks in hand (one for me) grabbed it from it and walked away to the group of guys I knew from soccer. Not intentionally to make him jealous, but because they were the closest people to me that I actually knew and I needed to feel like I wasn’t there alone in that moment in time. I don’t know where the girls were, outside I think.

Next thing I know Nick is interjecting himself into the conversation and telling them that I was there with him so they should stop flirting. 😲 fucking speechless!! excuse me... but weren’t you just backed into the corner surrounded and flirting with girls who were saying “isn’t his accent just the cutest?” And “are you single?” To which he said he was! I don’t think so! So we went outside to hash this shit out bc who the hell do you think you are?! I didn’t want to admit that I was jealous. I didn’t want to admit that I even had feelings. I basically put him in his place and said we are here as friends, you don’t get to do that or act that way with me when you’re single. I marched back inside and tried to push it all out of my mind. As soon as he walked back inside, he was surrounded by girls, being nice to them and answering questions. But he kept his eyes on me the entire time. It was making me incredibly uncomfortable in every way possible. So I decided it was time to go. Because I drove him there, I offered to take him home right then or said he could get a ride from one of them. The line of eager girls offering themselves up as taxi tribute was long... but he said goodbye and went with me.

I remember being drama drama drama and putting on wanna be 😂 because I’m a brat like that. Just blasting it so loud that all he could do was laugh the drive back to his house. I remember pulling up to his house and just being over it. I was so jealous but I wouldn’t and couldn’t even admit it to myself. I just wanted him to go. But he stayed, and talked. He accused me of being jealous but could see my stubbornness. So instead he said he wanted to show me something. He made me promise I wouldn’t leave. He said he wouldn’t get out of my car unless I swore. So I did. Intrigued as to what was so important that couldn’t wait. He ran inside and ran back out carrying a cd case. He wanted to talk about each and every cd in that case. Every song. I don’t know that he even had anything important to say about any of them... he just kept talking. Rambling.

He was slowly breaking down my wall. He was breaking down my anger. That was his entire motive the entire time. It was almost 3 am at this point. We had pulled up at 1230! I told him that I should go, but he said he wanted to show me something else. He asked me to go inside. He said we would be looking at pictures, but we had to be quiet bc of the family and his roommates. I was hesitant, but he promised he wanted to show me his family. So... off we went. He pulled out a picture album. I thought he said the pictures were online. He could’ve brought these pictures out. But we sat there together, on that oversized couch looking at pictures of his mum & dad, his gran, & I listened. Looking at every picture. Just hearing him tell me all about his life back home. Then he turned on the computer to show me more. By time time it was after 4 and the sun was going to be coming up soon! I did not want to be doing that awkward “walk of shame” out in front of everyone when we literally didn’t do anything. So I begged him to walk me out. He jumped back in my car.

What are you doing?! I asked. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want us to end like this. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I got so jealous when I saw all those guys talking to you. I shouldn’t have said you were there with me, but then tell those girls I was single. I know you’re mad at me, I just can’t lose you. I’ve never had a better friend, & I can’t let you leave and it never be the same between us. The truth is... is I was jealous. I do like you, more than a friend. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I think you do. I think you were jealous too... I love you. I’ve known it from the first time you came to the house with Iwan. From the moment I ever laid my eyes on you. You were mine. I just didn’t know if you felt the same way. But tonight we were both jealous. And I don’t want to waste any more time that I have here with anyone other than you.” He leaned in and kissed me

I can still feel him lean in and kiss me when I think about it. The intensity of the truth spilling out of his mouth, almost like he couldn’t control it. The sun was rising and we decided to go to McDonald’s on Stevens creek to get breakfast, we cuddled while we ate. It’s been almost 16 years and every time a I drive by that McDonald’s I still think of him.

We were inseparable all summer long. Doing all the same things we did before, only now it was accompanied with hand holding, cuddles, hugs that lasted forever, and the sweetest kisses. Listening to music out by the lake on CD players... dancing in the moonlite. Laying for hours just resting my head on his chest.

I knew he was flying back home the day after thanksgiving. We spent every single day together, every moment just living in love. We didnt do anything more than hugging and kissing until that last night. It was all life changing. Honestly, the very first love of my life was this man name Nick Day. And that last night, that last moment together, we got out of my car and just laughed and held each other. He looked at me and said “I’m going to come back for you. Idk when. I don’t care if you have a boyfriend, or engaged, I’m going to come back to your parents house and steal you back and love you for the rest of my life. I’m going to come back for you, and I’m never going to let you go.” I remember the stars that night, I’m not lying when he said my eyes shined brighter than them, and that was one of the things he loved most about me. We had our last kiss. I believed him... he’d be back.

Wikipedia says Tim McGraw was released in 2006 by Taylor and BMR but I swear it was 2005 when I first heard it on the radio 95.3 KRTY. The very first time I heard this song, was way before it was a hit on the radio. They would release 3-5 new songs during a lunch hour every week and everyone would vote on which would be the biggest hit. From the second I heard it, TEARS were streaming down my face. I felt like this girl singing had read my diary & ripped the page out, wrote my life story with Nick, changed my eye color to blue... & released it to radio. I was driving over the dumbaron bridge, just in ugly crying hysterics. I remember speeding home to add this song to my myspace and to look up this girl named Taylor Swift. She was younger than I was... and all I could do after that was message her on MySpace and just thank her for writing this song and telling her all about the first love of my life name Nick. To my surprise she replied back to me! We eventually became pen pals on MySpace and talked frequently enough that anytime she came to San Jose or the Bay Area on a radio tour, I’d get to see her. Never for very long... but oh how she felt like one of my best friends. Our last phone call was nick reminding me how I had introduced him to Tim McGraw and how he said anytime he hears him or spice girls or the Beatles how he would forever think of me.

I remember it like it was yesterday, the lady who’s still on it (who drives me insane) said that it was a sweet song... but that she didn’t think Taylor was going to be a big hit. I was so angry with this lady, this is when I decided she wasn’t just annoying, I hated her. Instant Taylor Swift Fan and I was going to fight this Julie lady on the radio. I called in and literally told her she was wrong and that Taylor was going to be huge, mark my words I swore.

Slowly, (like literal years) my faith in him faded. Our song slowly started to sound more and more like strawberry wine by Deana Carter. But I waited and waited. He did however, see and hear that song called Tim McGraw on my MySpace page and called me to ask if I had written it. He said it was def our song. That he does think about me and still promised to find a way to come back one day. Facebook came. He had a new girlfriend, & my God was she gorgeous. She was tall, skinny, blonde, just beautiful. It killed me, even after all those years. But he was happy. So I was happy for him. The thought of him still to this day puts a smile on my face.

Flash forward 11 years. It was 2016. I had just had my second baby, a boy, just two weeks old. I was still healing from my csection and in pain, and my phone buzzes. It’s a DM on my Twitter (which I don’t & hadn’t used in years). From a Nick, asking me if it was me and if I remembered him. We exchanged a few messages before he asks for my #. Before I even have a second to think my phone is ringing. It’s him. He’s calling me from somewhere in Asia where he teaches English. He’s still with that gorgeous girl (7 years) but he was in a bar with friends and in walked an American wearing a Taylor Swift shirt and it reminded him of me and Tim McGraw. So he tried to find me... on Facebook, on MySpace (where he’s still my #1 friend) but that there was no contact information. So he was glad I answered Twitter when I did. He asked about me and my life. I told him that I had kids, one a new born. He asked when I got married (I hadn’t), and I asked why he wasn’t engaged or married yet. He said he wasn’t sure if she was the one or not but that she was constantly dropping hints for him to take it to that next level. 11 years.... he still thinks of me when he hears Tim McGraw or Taylor Swift. 💜

Coincidence that Taylor’s hidden message in Tim McGraw lyrics is cant tell me nothing? I think not.

Oh & my favorite/lucky # is 13 too. I wasn’t born on 13, but when put together it looks like a B

So thank you @taylorswift for putting words to songs and making my first ever soundtrack to my life.

💜 Brandie

#taylor swift #taylorlurking #taylornoticeme #taylorstans #ts7 #ts4 legacy #taylornow #taylornation #i love tswift #tswift13 #lover tour #lover #teaparty #13

1 note · View note

feelinomni · 6 years ago

Text

Trail of knives

The sound of her blood dripping is like music to me. Drip… Drip. it's echo resonating across the empty apartment. A symphony of drips, drops, and echos. Her name was Michelle Ruby. She was a detective in the NYPD, a good one too, almost caught that school shooter. Her Manhattan apartment sits bloodstained and empty now.

I open my duffel bag and remove my hunter’s knife from it, the familiar handlebar feels comfortable in my hand. After running through the procedure in my head, I remind myself that my objective is to conceal her identity. Now I have only two teeth left to work on. I hear a creak and the sound of keys clinking together. Poking my head out the door, I see the door ajar and muddy footprints leading to the kitchen. Uh oh.

Dropping the hunting knife on the floor, I zip up the duffel bag and quickly, but silently make my way to the window in the back of the apartment. Opening the window I look down, it's about a one-story drop. Looking back I can see that their shadow is approaching the room with the body. I drop the duffel bag below and look up for a second. The cool night breeze brushes up against my face. Gathering all my will, I crawl out of the window and begin my descent. It isn't that hard to climb down, I just need to avoid windows.

I drop down to the ground after my ¨perilous” climb and start looking for my duffel bag. From my view at the window, it should´ve landed somewhere near these bushes. Ah, there it is. Grabbing it I begin my way towards the safehouse.

___________

¨ The victim's name was Michelle Ruby,” the autopsy tech stated eagerly, “stabbed in the spine, the knife was found at the scene, still bloody. Andrews dusted for prints, belonged to an Amanda Logan. ¨

¨Alright, thank you, Mr. Powell.¨ I acknowledged, still flipping through the case file, ¨anything else?¨

¨Yes, the vic`s mandible and all the teeth were removed.¨ he added, adjusting his lab coat, ¨thank you agent Mackenzie.¨

¨No problem.¨ I concluded. Walking out of the room.

Okay, so the prints found at this scene are the same as the ones found at the other scenes. The other scenes also had the same style as this one, except at the others the knife was in the victim's eye socket. Something must´ve spooked her. I'll talk to the victim`s daughter, see if she knows anything.

“So, Grace. What time did you get home?¨ I inquired, leaning forward.

¨Around midnight, um I was with my friends and we were watching a movie. After that I went to pick up some chips and dip, then I came home, put them in the kitchen and went to find my mom,¨ she managed. ¨then...then I..¨ she added, her eyes brimming with tears.

¨ That is all I need, thank you for your time, and I´m very sorry for your loss.¨ I concluded.

___________

That was close. I shouldn't have left the knife behind.

This safehouse is the definition of redneck. Stuffed heads of deer, wolves, and various fauna lined the wood log walls. You would think that a hunter with a southern accent would walk in and ask, ¨whats cookin,¨ with an animal carcass slung across his shoulder.

That isn't who walks in though. To be exact, the ones who walk in are twenty officers with guns, twelve fully armed FBI men, one detective, and a partridge in a pear tree. Literally. They have a bomb labeled, ¨partridge in a pear tree.¨ Five bucks say that I can´t get out of this.

They are taking me to the main FBI building, for a ¨proper investigation,¨ which means they are going to get ahold on every piece of ID, DNA, and prints they can get without killing me, interview me, and then lock me in a high-security prison with a plush cat for the rest of my days.

I have been sitting in this interrogation room for three hours, thirty-two minutes, and forty seconds accordion to the clock above the one-way glass, where some agent is looking at me. May as well entertain them.

_______________

Why is she making faces at me? This woman is wanted in all fifty states, under two names in a few. In fifteen years she will sit in the electric chair and be shocked to death, and yet she is smiling at me. No wonder the other agents on her case say she is insane. Three and a half hours is enough time to stew. Time to interview, hey, that rhymes!

“You were found in a safe house less than a mile from the scene where your prints were on the hunter's knife that killed Michelle ruby, a detective in the NYPD.” I accused, “Michelle Ruby also fit the general description of all of your past victims, she was slaughtered in a similar fashion as all of your past victims. We have all the evidence we need, if you confess, it’ll look better and you might get a slightly reduced sentence.”

“No. No, I won’t confess,” Amanda states firmly, “because if I do I will leave this building in a prison outfit and shackles, if I don’t, then I will leave either in a body bag or a free woman.”

“ Oh, and how will you leave this building a ‘free woman’?” I sarcastically inquired, using air quotes.

“ With your help of course, silly!” She giggled, “also I have about twenty agents working for me in this building, two of them are in that room behind you.”

“ Sure, and how exactly do you know that?”

“Because, they showed themselves about four minutes ago, also this interview isn’t being filmed.”

“Oh.” I finished. So, if this isn’t filmed, and what she said is true, then screw it, she's cute, and the system is corrupted anyway. “How do you want to get out of here?”

“You have access to all the floors in this building. Correct?” she asked

“Yes,” I replied

“Good. To get out of this building we need to first get to the back entrance, from where we need to commandeer a van, meander around the city until every corner of it has seen the car we steal,” she instructed. “can you do that?”

“Yes, I’m Louise by the way.”

“Alright Louise lets go,” she added with a smile.

__________________

Holy guacamole she is pretty. And she is joining me in the serial killer business. Awesome! Still, we need to actually escape. Let’s do this. Opening the door she holds my hands behind my back and pushes me through the hall to the elevator, once we got to the elevator and the door closed…

“ This elevator will take us to the second floor, from here we’ll take the emergency exit stairs to the back entrance” she updated, loosening her grip on my wrists.

“Okay, do you have a van lined up?” I asked, turning around to face her.

“Yes,” she responded, “ I talked to my buddy in equipment, he has one lined up for us.”

“Okay,” I concluded turning around and putting my hands behind my back.

Amanda takes them and we turn to face the door. Walking out a man bumps into us, he is on my side, but Louise doesn’t know that.

“Agent, where are you going?” he inquires.

“The suspect has to be taken to a high-security prison ASAP,” Louise replied sharply

“I can take her off your hands if you want?” he pressed

“No, I am the primary on this case, I will do it.” Louise insisted. I shook my head at him, letting him know he can leave it alone.

“Alright,” he sighed, admitting defeat and walking away.

With the exit right in front of us, we make a beam line towards it, pushing through people as fast as we can. Finally, we reach the exit. Opening the door we step outside to see a van waiting for us.

She guides me towards the door and opens it for me, I climb in. the van is covered in FBI logos, merchandise, and fake weaponry. Sure. totally discreet. Oh well, better than nothing.

“Is this thirty-sixth street?” Louise asked me impatiently.

“No, this is thirty-fifth, the next one is thirty-sixth,” I informed, leaning back in my seat and putting my feet up on the dash.

“Why do have to go through the whole city?” Louise asked

“ So the cameras have a hard time tracking our route,” I reminded her, “ and after this, we head for the border, Towards British Columbia.”

“Alright.”

____________

“Psst, hey! We’re here, we’re at the border!” I whisper-shouted to Amanda, who lay sleeping in the passenger seat.

“Huh, what?” she asked groggily, sitting up in her seat

“We’re here, we’re at the border,” I repeated, leaning over towards Amanda.

“Oh, okay, I’ll get the fake passports,” she stated absentmindedly, ruffling through the duffel bag.

“You brought fake passports?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

So it turns out that Canada is huge. Getting from Ontario to Manitoba took an entire day. Only stopping for gas and bathroom breaks. At least the other states, no, provinces are smaller.

We finally made it. The safehouse in BC. the entire trip from the Ontario borders to this safehouse took three.freaking.days, I don’t think I’ll ever sit down again.

____________

Louise and I have lived here for six months, we are settled in and have become bored. I think its time to start choosing a victim with her.

“So I was thinking, Tamera Kelly, forty-three years old, blonde, dirty cop.” I proposed, showing Louise a picture.

“How about Monica Jones, thirty-two, brunette, convicted felon” she offered, handing the file back to me.

“How about those jerks that wouldn’t stop playing their horrible rap music at the gas station in Winnipeg?” I suggested jokingly.

“Actually yeah, that would be nice,” she affirmed

“I’ll get my gun, you grab the garbage bags and the bleach?” I offered

“Sure. don’t forget the knives and ammo too.” she reminded

“Will do. Meet back in twenty?”

“Yep.”

#writing #school project #school #gay #lesbian #suspense #dark #murder #serial killer #original #story #short story #macab

1 note · View note