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pinencurls · 4 years ago

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“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - -

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert.

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him. . . . . .

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni.

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme.

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room.

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.”

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun.

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party.

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates.

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend.

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.”

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders.

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests.

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes.

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask.

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note.

“Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours.

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door.

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever.

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced.

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am.

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table.

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?”

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..”

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?”

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair.

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case.

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid.

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them.

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?”

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar.

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host.

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.”

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time?

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?”

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night.

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar.

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls.

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold.

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet.

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.”

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?”

“No Elle, of course I don’t-”

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet.

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.”

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?”

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee.

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . .

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.”

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.)

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.”

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself.

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?”

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table.

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.”

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-”

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.”

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?”

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room.

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?”

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode.

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?”

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus.

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides.

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head.

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended.

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both.

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick.

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following.

“Harry?”

“Ellie?”

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes.

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick.

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing.

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing.

“Oh- H, Sorry!”

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage.

“I’m so sorry Harry I-”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!”

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little.

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different.

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me.

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back.

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . .

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.”

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily.

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy.

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry.

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into.

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter.

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night - incidentally beside Harry - I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock.

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him.

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies.

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again.

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?”

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.”

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile.

“What’s wrong?”

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts.

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.”

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up.

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one.

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.”

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?”

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?”

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket.

“I know exactly what you mean, H.”

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm.

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again.

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides.

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit.

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago.

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore.

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant.

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser.

“Then stay.”

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.”

. . . . .

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway.

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end.

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face.

“And you’re almost six foot!”

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.”

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough.

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.”

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again.

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks.

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry.

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again.

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm.

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine.

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side.

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before?

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa.

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen.

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.”

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention.

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.”

. . . . .

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all.

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already.

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all.

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden doors of Blondies.

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner.

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?”

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him.

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly.

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.”

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say.

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.”

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften.

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure.

“How do you mean?”

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-”

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.”

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry.

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all rather unsuccessfully.

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?”

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?”

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’”

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing.

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’”

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much.

. . . . .

Unknown Number

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago.

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone.

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up.

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.”

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all.

. . . . .

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!”

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?”

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?”

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends.

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years.

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?”

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.”

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us.

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.”

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech.

. . . . .

The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.”

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me.

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.”

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.”

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood.

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.”

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens.

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats.

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition.

. . . . .

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..”

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.”

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?”

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me.

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection.

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter.

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits.

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed.

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.”

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips.

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little,

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.”

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed.

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?”

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?”

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.”

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open.

“That’s the plan, love.”

. . . . .

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed.

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this.

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me.

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble:

“Breakfast?”

. . . . .

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed.

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes.

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner.

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares.

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!”

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him.

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.”

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands.

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion.

“What’ve got yeh bag for?”

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on.

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-”

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.”

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space.

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-”

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.”

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm.

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start.

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road.

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums.

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.”

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road.

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.”

. . . . .

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented.

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?”

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?” She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.”

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.”

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed.

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.”

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth.

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said.

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine.

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine.

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction.

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes.

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him.

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me.

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing.

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo.

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend.

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.”

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact.

Meet me at mine x

Harry

Okay - what was that about?

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?”

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.”

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec” before the line goes dead.

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly.

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me.

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.”

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?”

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.”

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me.

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.”

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange.

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a time I thought I could lose him.

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair.

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket.

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.”

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly.

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?”

“Eleanor would have a field day.”

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again.

“Oh yeah?” He teases.

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.”

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him.

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.”

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh…”

“Really..she’d be right about that?”

“I’m pretty sure-”

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep.

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.”

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder.

“I like you too H….just a little bit.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear.

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession.

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs.

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.”

. . . . .

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!”

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand.

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun.

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north.

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him.

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer.

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest.

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group.

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him.

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy.

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear.

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction.

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!”

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going.

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips.

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done.

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?”

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven.

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces.

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.”

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object.

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven.

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand.

“Yes dear?”

“What was that?”

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-”

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?”

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.”

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin.

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?”

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little.

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter.

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second.

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?”

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

#Harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #stellarboystyles3years #“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”#dani's masterlist #dani's writing #fan fic #harry styles #nick grimshaw #reader #idk #what do u even put in tags #christmas vibes?#friends to lovers

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javelon · 6 years ago

Text

Nothing More (Than A Forgotten Memory)

"Why the long face, sugar?"

Chase looked up from his glass of whiskey to the face of the bartender, her eyes looking over him as if to discern his secrets.

He sighed and took another sip of his drink, "Oh just...a not so good long day. Hell a not so good long life really."

Her smile turned sympathetic and she set down the glass she had been cleaning, "Would you like to talk about it? I hear talking about your woes is healthier than drowning them in liquor."

Chase's lips quirked up slightly, "Heh, yea Hen tells me that too."

"Hen?"

He nodded, "My brother, Henrik. He's the mother hen of the family so I just call him Hen." Taking another sip he tips the glass towards the bartender, "Anyway, how come you became a bartender if you're worried about unhealthy drinking?"

The woman leaned against the bar counter with a smile, "The stories believe it or not. Lot of people travel through this town and have many fascinating tales to tell. The liquor helps loosen up that information." She winked with a cheeky grin.

Chase huffed out a chuckle, "I see. Well I'm afraid my story isn't very interesting. Just...sad. And one I'm sure you've heard a thousand times before. Can I get another please?" He slid over his now empty glass.

She gave him a sad frown but nodded and refilled it, "Just cause stories are similar doesn't mean they're all the same, hun. What you are going through is not the same thing as everyone else. Your story is still unique."

"Oh." Chase blinked and gazed down into his new glass, "I guess I never thought about it like that..." He shook his head and took a large gulp, "Honestly though I'd rather just forget it all. And the whiskey helps."

"Are you sure that's what you truly want though? What about your happy memories?"

Chase looked back up, surprised to see the serious look the woman was giving him, "Happy memories aren't as happy with all the bad memories tainting them. So yes I'd like to forget it all right now, the good and the bad."

She looked him in the eyes for several moments before taking his glass from his rather lax fingers. She topped it off then grabbed another glass and poured herself a drink too. Handing him back his glass, she held up hers towards him, "Well then to forgetting old memories and starting anew."

Chase clinked his glass to hers with a smile, "To starting anew."

-------------------------------------------------------

It was going to be a long day, Henrik could already tell. Jackie and Anti were already bickering, Marvin had accidentally changed his doctor's coat to be super sparkly so he now looking like a walking disco ball, and they were out of his favorite coffee!

"At least Chase is going grocery shopping day." Henrik mumbled to himself, watching Jackie and Anti in case he needed to step in.

His eye twitched though when he heard someone running down the hall towards the kitchen. Honestly was he the only adult here?

"Chase vhat have I said about running in zhe halls?!" He yelled at the running figure only to pause when he saw a frantic looking Jameson instead. "Jamie?? Vhat ever is zhe matter?"

Everyone stopped and turned to the youngest ego in surprise, they had never seen him run ever, much less in the house.

Jameson was trying to sign with shaky handy but finally just started tugging on Henrik's sleeve frantically when he realized nobody could understand then ran back down the hall.

The doctor jogged after him, a knot of concern and apprehension forming in his chest, "Jamie, slow down! Talk to me!"

Henrik's knot grew when he saw Jameson run into Chase's room. He knew Chase had gone drinking but he was only slightly intoxicated when he came home last night. Had something happened??

Skidding into the room, Henrik froze when he saw Chase curled into a ball in the corner, body wracked with sobs.

"Oh Chase..." Henrik murmured, his heart breaking for his brother. What had gone wrong? Chase had been doing better! Or at least Henrik thought he had been...

Jameson had already knelt in front of Chase, trying to get Chase to look up. Henrik knelt beside him and placed a comforting hand on Chase's knee, "Chase, vhat's wrong? Talk to us."

Chase flinched at his touch but peered up from behind his arms, "W...Wh...who a..are y...y..you?"

Henrik froze in shock. Did he..? Surely he had heard Chase wrong.

"...Vhat? Could you repeat zhat?"

Chase took a deep shuddering breath, "Wh...who are y..you?"

Doing his best impression of a goldfish, Henrik couldn't answer for a moment, "I...vhat do you mean who am I? I...it's Henrik. Zhe great Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein! I'm your brother, Chase!" His tone grew increasingly frantic when he didn't see any recognition in Chase's face.

"Ch-Chase? Is...is that m-my name?" Chase whispered.

"Is that your name?!?" Jackie's alarmed voice came from the doorway.

Chase curled in on himself more, his sobs renewed, "I-I do-don't kn-know! I c-can't re-mem-b-ber!!"

Henrik lurched forward and embraced his sobbing brother, "Shhh shhh it's ok, Chase. It's going to be ok." Chase initially flinched but gradually relaxed as Henrik rocked him slowly, running his fingers through Chase's hair as he continued his gentle tirade of comforting words.

Finally Chase quieted down and when his blue eyes peaked up at Henrik, the doctor smiled, "Zhere you are. I know zhis is scary but it's going to be ok. We're family and we're going to take care of you."

Chase sniffed a couple times and peered around at the others who were trying to hide their own looks of fear and concern, "I...I'm s-sorry. I don't...recognize a-any of you."

Swallowing down a lump of sorrow Henrik pasted on a brilliant smile, "Zhat's alright! Ve shall simply introduce ourselves until ve can figure out your amnesia. We're your brothers, Chase. Zhis here is our little brother, Jameson or Jamie as we usually call him." Jameson waved hello with a teary smile.

Henrik shifted so he was facing the three by behind them, keeping his arm wrapped around Chase's shoulders, and pointed at Anti, "Zhis grumpy one is your overprotective knife obsessed older brother, Antisepticeye or Anti."

Anti huffed, "I'm the right amount of protective, doc. Have you seen what happens in this family?" He still gave Chase a small wave with a smile though.

The doctor chose to ignore Anti's comment and moved on to Marvin, "Zhis is our older brother and resident magician, Marvin or Marv." Marvin gave a tiny wave as Chase's eyes widened.

"Can you really do magic?" Chase asked softly.

Marvin's smile grew, "I can. Would you like to see?" At Chase's nod Marvin held up his hand, letting Chase see light gather in his palm before it formed a flower. He held out the flower to Chase who took it carefully and gazed at it in wonder.

"It's real. That's amazing, Marvin!" Chase gasped.

Henrik was glad Chase was fixated on the flower and didn't see Marvin's brief look of sadness mixed with pride. The doctor cleared his throat and pointed to Jackie next when Chase looked up, "Jackieboy Man or Jackie here is our resident super hero and our eldest brother."

Jackie smiled and waved as well. At Chase' curious look Jackie let his eyes glow green and his feet lifting off the ground to hover, grinning when he heard Chase's excited gasp. "I can demonstrate more later. Hen doesn't like me using my powers in the house. Too much can break." Jackie winked causing Chase to chuckle.

"And finally I am Henrik von Schneeplestein, resident doctor and your older brother."

"And resident mother hen." Marvin teased.

Henrik rolled his eyes, "Someone has to fuss over you lot or you'd all have one foot in zhe grave!"

"Seems Anti isn't the only overprotective one." Jackie laughed.

"Yea how many times have you followed one of us home from the rooftops again Jackie?" Marvin held his chin in an exaggerated pondering pose.

"There's a lot of bad people out there that could mug one of you! And like you haven't put a tracking spell on us when we've gone out of town."

Warm exasperation filled Henrik's chest as the two continued their banter, Anti chiming in a bit. Movement from Jamie made the doctor turn to see Jamie was showing Chase his notepad which said "They're all protective of this family. Especially you and I as the youngest."

Henrik frowned and held Chase just a little tighter. They obviously hadn't been protective enough. Something had gone wrong between last night and this morning and none of them knew what that something was.

He cleared his throat again, getting everyone's attention, "Ve can debate vho is zhe most protective one later. For now, Chase, I vould like you to come vith me to zhe hospital. I vould like to use the equipment zhere to see if your amnesia is a medical issue. Meanwhile Marvin I vould like you to investigate any magical reasons zhis could have happened. And contact Jack. He vill vish to know vhat's going on. Jackie and Anti, check zhe security footage of everywhere Chase went last night. See if anyone may have attacked him."

The three nodded and left to complete their tasks. Henrik looked back down at Chase who looked a bit apprehensive, "I promise you everything vill be alright. Ve'll get to zhe bottom of zhis or I am not zhe great Dr. Schneeplestein!"

Chase gave him a small grin and let himself be pulled to his feet, following Jamie and Henrik out of the room. Henrik just hoped they got to the bottom of this soon.

-------------------------------------------------------

Three weeks later and Henrik found himself in the bar Marvin and Jack, sitting in a corner booth watching the other patrons there.

"Vhy are ve here, Marvin?"

"Yea, Marv. What do you hope to find here?" Jack asked, looking around for some sort of clue.

Marvin sighed, "I...am not sure. But this was the last place Chase was when his memories were still intact."

"You're hoping to retrace his steps?" Henrik asked, smiling at the waitress approaching them.

"Afternoon boys. What can I get you?" She gave them a big smile, holding her pen and pad at the ready.

"Just a coffee for me, please. Two creams." Marvin requested.

"I'll take a coke zero annnd will you guys share some nachos with me?" Jack looked at them both.

Henrik nodded while Marvin said, "Sure I could eat."

"And a pilsner for me." Henrik ordered. It had been a long couple of weeks. A drink would do wonders for his nerves.

When she walked off with their orders Henrik spoke up, "Vell ve haven't had any luck with every other route we've tried."

Jack chewed on his thumbnail, "But it's been a couple weeks. Would there still be any hints here?"

Henrik shrugged, "Possibly? Marvin believes magic is at play and magic doesn't dissipate quickly. Right Marv? Marvin?"

Marvin put a finger to his lips, his eyes locked on the bar area. Henrik and Jack looked over, trying to see what caught his attention.

"Marv-?"

"That bartender is the one that was in the security footage. She was the one who served Chase." Marvin interrupted Jack.

"Ok?" Jack gave him a quizzical look.

"She's not human."

Henrik and Jack snapped their eyes back to the bartender who was talking with a patron sitting at the counter, "Are you sure? She looks normal to me." Jack tilted his head slightly, as if the different angle would reveal what Marvin saw.

"I'm sure. She has the aura of a supernatural being." Marvon explained, his eyes still trained on her.

"Hmm so she could be zhe one zhat erased Chase's memories..." Henrik murmured.

Jack's brows furrowed, "But...we don't know her. Why would she attack Chase?"

The three sat in silence, no one having the answer to that. They averted their eyes when their orders came, subtly glancing at the bar between bites of nachos. When the bartender served her patron and herself a drink, clinking them together, Marvin shot to his feet.

"Marv-!" Henrik tried to follow only to pause when Marvin shot a quick, "Stay here." over his shoulder and walked briskly towards the bar.

Wishing for Jackie's super hearing, Henrik and Jack could only watch as Marvin said something to the woman. She looked surprised then...pleased? Yea she was definitely giving Marvin a smile despite his borderline angry look. Though she did look a bit sheepish. She nodded towards their table and Marvin seemed to hesitate. He ends up giving her a curt nod and after she motioned for someone else to man the bar she and Marvin walked back to the table.

"Good day, gentlemen. Name's Iris." She held out her hand in greeting after sliding into Marvin's previous spot, the magician sliding in next to her.

"Henrik."

"Jack."

They hesitantly shook her hand, looking from her to Marvin in confusion.

She seemed to ignore their confusion and leaned forward onto the table, "So Marvin says you'd like to discuss your brother?"

"Err yes? Did you serve Chase here 3 weeks ago?" Jack asked, shifting awkwardly.

"Single dad with the skull ball cap? I did indeed. He was rather sad that evening. Is he doing better now?"

Henrik felt so confused. This woman sounded like she was actually concerned about Chase. But...

"Then why did you curse him??" Marvin hissed, his fist clenched.

Iris looked at him in alarm, "Curse him? I didn't curse him. I simply granted his wish."

"His wish vas to erase all his memories??" Henrik wasn't sure he could believe that. They knew Chase was having a hard time but to erase all his memories? Even the good ones?

Her smile was sympathetic, "He said he wished to forget it all. I'm a djinn and when someone wishes for something around me I am compelled to grant their wish. I did ask if he was sure he wanted to forget everything though."

The three of them stared at her incredulously. "Well it was a bad wish! You have to change him back!" Jack exclaimed.

Iris sat back and regarded them all carefully, "I can do that, if that is a wish you make. But!" She held up a hand to stop them from saying anything, "Is he not happier now that his previous troubles no longer weigh him down?"

Marvin sputtered for a moment before loudly exclaiming, "At the cost of forgetting his brothers! His kids! All his past GOOD memories!"

"Marvin!" Henrik hissed as people turned to look at them.

When the people looked away Iris replied, "This is true. I imagine reintroducing yourselves to your bbrother was not easy. And I've no doubt his kids were confused."

Henrik winced at the reminder of having to reintroduce Chase's own kids to him while trying to explain to Stacy enough of what was going on to convince her the kids were still safe to come over.

"Like I said I can return him to how he was if you wish it. Just know that means everything comes back good and bad. Are you prepared to deal with his depression returning because you wished for his memories back?"

The three paused and looked at each other. Henrik took a large sip of his pilsner as he thought over her question. It was true Chase not remembering certain things was hard. However after the bumpy first week he was doing rather well. In fact he was happier than Henrik had seen him in years. And it had been a small blessing when Chase had seen and talked to Stacy without even a twinge of his old heartbreak. And for whatever reason Stacy seemed more willing to let the kids see Chase more often once she realized Chase truly didn't remember her.

Was it really the right thing to do? To make Chase remember? Suppressing memories was an unhealthy way of dealing with things. But if the memories were completely forgotten? Chase didn't even have nightmares anymore!

Henrik swallowed hard when Marvin and Jack looked to him, their eyes reflecting the same turmoil he felt.

What do they do? What was the right thing to do?

He didn't know.

-------------------------------------------------------

Sorry about the cliffhanger like ending guys. But I felt like this decision would truly be tough so I decided to leave it like this so you all can decide for yourselves what happens. Which choice would you make?

Thanks for reading!

#chase brody #fanfic #jacksepticeye #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #marvin the magician #jameson jackson #jackieboy man #amnesia

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almostafantasia · 8 years ago

Text

more than a name

wayhaught hogwarts au | chapter 2/?

Being an Earp at Hogwarts is tough. Being the youngest Earp and constantly living in the shadows of two older sisters is nothing short of a nightmare.

Willa, newly appointed Head Girl and Slytherin’s sweetheart. Wynonna, the notorious troublemaker who spends more time in detention than out of it. And then there’s Waverly, whose life crumbles into tiny pieces when she doesn’t get awarded the Prefect badge that she spent her first four years at Hogwarts striving towards.

Enter Nicole Haught – Hufflepuff, Muggleborn, and general bundle of sunshine – whose unexpected but not entirely unwelcome arrival into Waverly’s life puts Waverly on the path to discover who she is in more ways than one.

Read on AO3.

As a Muggleborn, there are several aspects of the magical world that Nicole sometimes finds beyond her comprehension, despite being one of the top students in her year. Divination, for example. The only subject that she received lower than Exceeds Expectations in her O.W.L.S. in June, because it’s painfully unfair that half of her grade for the course should depend on her ability to pretend to see shapes emerge from the mist of a crystal ball and then invent a fictional scenario that is almost certainly not going to happen as a result of said non-existent shapes.

Apparition, too. The very fact that a magical person can just envision any place fathomable and then travel there in the blink of an eye by simply thinking about it in a certain way is utterly mind-blowing. Though Nicole can’t deny that the part of her that used to obsess of sci-fi movies as a kid is thrilled at the prospect of having all of her childhood fantasies about teleportation come true during apparition lessons later this year, it doesn’t stop the mere concept of it from being completely mind-boggling.

But out of everything in the magical world, the thing that baffles Nicole the most is Wynonna Earp.

“Hypothetically, if somebody was to release two dozen pixies into the school, where do you think they should release them to maximise the chaos?”

Specifically, Nicole is perplexed by the red and gold Prefect’s badge that is pinned slightly askew to the front of Wynonna’s school robes.

“Please tell me that you’re not planning to do exactly that,” Nicole pleads with her fellow Prefect as they amble along the corridor outside the Charms classroom, patrolling the school as part of their duties.

“That’s ridiculous,” Wynonna dismisses her with a wave of her hand. “Where am I going to acquire two dozen pixies?”

Nicole has to repress a snort because she doesn’t doubt even for a moment that Wynonna has both the motivation and the means to get hold of enough pixies to wreak havoc on the entire school. If there is anybody capable of such a feat, then it is Wynonna, and Nicole is all too aware that any attempts to dissuade Wynonna from carrying out such a plan when she already has her mind set on it will just have the opposite effect, no doubt encouraging her to take things three steps further by unleashing a couple of nifflers and a medium sized acromantula on the student body too.

“Okay,” Nicole says after a few moments of thought, “but as a Prefect I feel like I should just let you know that I can’t condone that behaviour. Hypothetical, or otherwise.”

Wynonna lets out a huff, absent-mindedly using her wand to levitate a crumpled ball of parchment that lies discarded by the door to a nearby classroom. With a couple of swishes of her wand, the ball swoops around Nicole’s head and then ducks between her legs, before Wynonna vanishes the litter with a final flick of her wand.

“You sound like my sisters,” grumbles Wynonna, her voice laced with distaste.

“I met Waverly the other day,” Nicole says brightly, smiling at the memory of her encounter with the youngest Earp. She’s been replaying that day over and over in her mind since it happened – having wanted to introduce herself to Waverly for a while, she’s now worried that she’s blown her only chance at friendship with the Ravenclaw girl by staring a bit too much in the library and then confessing her love for a sport that it turns out Waverly isn’t just disinterested in, but actively dislikes along with those who play it. “We were both in the library during the Quidditch match.”

Wynonna scowls, no doubt at the memory of losing to Slytherin by just ten points, a result which, from what Nicole has heard from the rest of the school, might have gone the other way if Slytherin hadn’t been awarded penalty after penalty for Wynonna’s bad language and foul play.

“Of course that’s where Waverly was,” Wynonna complains. “Nerd.”

“Hey,” Nicole says, jumping to Waverly’s defence, even when she isn’t around to hear Wynonna insult her. “There’s nothing wrong with actually wanting to complete your homework on time.” Nicole nudges Wynonna’s arm with her elbow and then teases, “You should try it sometime.”

“Boring,” Wynonna shrugs, rolling her eyes. She turns her head to look across at Nicole, eyes alight with mischief and a wicked grin crossing her lips, and then says in a low voice, “There’s also nothing wrong with wanting to release magical creatures into the castle to liven up the school day.”

Nicole thinks that there’s an awful lot wrong with what Wynonna is suggesting but after five years of watching the other girl cause rampant mayhem without a second thought for anybody else in the school, Nicole also knows better than to try to persuade Wynonna otherwise.

“PIXIES? I DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHERE YOU GOT THOSE FROM!”

As Aunt Gus’s voice echoes throughout the Great Hall, Waverly shrinks down into her seat and tries to pretend that she doesn’t exist. The Howler isn’t even for her – it hovers opposite Waverly in front of Wynonna, who is paying more attention to the plate of waffles that keeps refilling itself in front of her than to the spitting red envelope that scolds her for her latest wrongdoing loud enough for everybody in the Great Hall to be able to hear it.

It’s not unusual. Wynonna probably receives a Howler from Aunt Gus about two to three times each school year, hence why she is more interested in her breakfast than the screaming envelope. The same can’t be said for the rest of the school. Almost every single pair of eyes in the Great Hall are currently focused on where the two Earp girls are sitting, enraptured as they listen to Aunt Gus reprimand Wynonna.

“ARE YOU INCAPABLE OF GOING A SINGLE WEEK WITHOUT GETTING INTO TROUBLE? I’M IN HALF A MIND TO COME STRAIGHT TO THE CASTLE AND TAKE YOU HOME MYSELF TO SAVE US ALL THE SHAME OF WAITING UNTIL THEY EXPEL YOU!”

“They’re not going to expel me,” Wynonna mutters under her breath, helping herself to a third waffle now that her plate is empty of the first two. “I’m an Earp.”

Waverly loves Wynonna, she really does, but she hates this, hates the gung-ho attitude that Wynonna has where she thinks she can get away with anything and everything just because she’s from a well-known family. She hates how Wynonna somehow manages to get away with far too much, and that even when she doesn’t she seems to take each punishment as a violation of her rights and an excuse for her next misdemeanour to break even more school rules.

Waverly hates how the rest of the school indulges what Wynonna does with more attention than it deserves; how each time Wynonna does something that catches everybody’s attention it ends up being all the school can talk about for days; how Wynonna’s escapades somehow makes Waverly more interesting, not because she’s Waverly and people finally want to get to know her, but because she’s Wynonna’s sister and everybody is suddenly interested in talking to her as if hoping that she can give them an inside scoop on Wynonna’s life.

She hates it.

“WHAT WOULD YOUR PARENTS THINK?”

Wynonna lets her fork drop to her plate with a clatter and looks up at Waverly, exasperation in her eyes as she says, “And there is it.” With her hands now free, Wynonna flips off the Howler with both middle fingers just as the envelope bursts into flames and its ashen remains drift down to the table. “Guilt-tripping me with the dead parent card isn’t going to stop me from doing anything.”

With the Howler now gone and the rest of the school back to muttering softly as they continue to point and stare at where the two youngest Earp girls sit, Wynonna returns her undivided attention to her food, not even looking up as somebody new approaches and joins them for breakfast.

“A Howler before Halloween?” says the newbie - one of Wynonna’s band of misfits, seventh year Doc Holliday - as he drops onto the bench next to Waverly. “Is that a new record, Earp?”

“Nah, remember my second year?” Wynonna replies through a mouthful of waffle.

Doc grimaces and then replies drily, “I’d really rather not.”

Wynonna looks up from her breakfast, and then immediately starts choking on the food in her mouth. Her face turns a deep red colour, not too dissimilar from the Howler that was so recently screaming at her in front of an audience of the entire school, and as she coughs and splutters, Wynonna reaches for her goblet of pumpkin juice and takes a long swig to wash the food down.

“Okay,” Wynonna rasps, when she’s finally regained a small amount of her composure, “what the hell is that?”

It takes a few moments for Doc to realise that Wynonna is addressing him and when he does, he responds, “What the hell is what?”

“That!” Wynonna answers, as if it is obvious. Waverly, about as confused as Doc seems to be, looks at her sister expectantly with her own breakfast now forgotten. When Doc continues to stare blankly at her, Wynonna rolls her eyes and gestures to her own upper lip as she says, “On your face! The … you know…”

Waverly switches her attention to Doc and her eyes widen as she notices the patchy teenage fuzz masquerading as a moustache on his upper lip. She manages to refrain from laughing, but she can certainly see why Wynonna, being the person that she is and with the level of tact that she doesn’t have, managed to nearly suffocate on her own breakfast at the sight.

Clearly proud of his own attempts at growing a moustache, Doc scowls at Wynonna as he says, “It’s called facial hair.”

Wynonna has the audacity to actually snort.

“I’m pretty sure that my Great Aunt Cassie has more facial hair than you.”

“Oh,” says Doc, leaning across the table and tilting his head to the side as he quips back, “it runs in the women in your family, does it?” He sits up straight once more, using his fingertips to stroke the fuzz on his top lip, then continues with an air of pride, “This is a sign of my masculinity.”

“Oh please,” Wynonna rolls her eyes as she picks up her fork and aggressively stabs at a chunk of waffle on her plate. “I’ve seen you naked and it’s gonna take a lot more than a pathetic moustache before you’re anything close to mascul-“

“Sorry, what?” Waverly interjects, her eyes wide as she processes Wynonna’s words and the flippancy with which she says them. “You’ve seen Doc naked?”

“Yeah,” Wynonna shrugs as if this is old news. “Problem?”

“You and him?” Waverly asks, eyes flickering between the pair of them and her face slowly screwing up in disgust as her mind floods with images that are enough to put her off the rest of her breakfast. “You’ve … but I thought that you and Dolls were…”

A trace of incredulity crossing her face, Wynonna replies, “Me and Dolls are not…”

“You and Dolls aren’t what?”

As if sensing that he is being talked about, Dolls chooses that exact moment to join the conversation, hovering behind Wynonna’s shoulder as his eyes move between the three of them seated at the table, expectantly waiting for one of them to give him an answer. When none of them do, he lets it drop with a shrug, tapping Wynonna on the shoulder and gesturing with his other hand towards the doors out of the Great Hall.

“Anyway, come on Earp,” he says. “We’ve got Transfiguration in twenty minutes and I’d bet my wand that you haven’t finished the homework yet.”

“We had homework?” moans Wynonna, getting to her feet in a hurry and swinging her schoolbag over her shoulder. “Shit…”

Waverly tuts softly under her breath and watches in amusement as Wynonna grabs another waffle with her hand and starts eating it as she chases Dolls out of the Great Hall.

“Well that’s my cue to leave,” grumbles Doc, his voice noticeably gloomier as her stares after Wynonna and Dolls. While Waverly has absolutely no interest in hearing any of the sordid details about her sister’s personal life, the revelation that she and Doc have had something going on between them, no matter how brief of an affair it might have been, along with the look of resentment that fills Doc’s eyes as he stares after Wynonna means that Waverly can’t help but wonder if there is something more complex going on between Wynonna and her two closest male friends.

Doc leaves with a glum expression on his face, swinging his legs over the bench and getting to his feet before trudging out of the Great Hall with his hands buried deep in the pockets of the grey uniform trousers he wears beneath his school robes.

Watching him leave, Waverly’s eyes fall on a familiar redheaded Hufflepuff approaching where she now sits alone, and the sight is enough to turn the corners of Waverly’s lips up into a smile and push all thought of Wynonna’s hypothetical love triangle out of her mind.

“Where is Wynonna off to in such a hurry?” Nicole says, dropping into Wynonna’s recently vacated seat across the table from Waverly, her eyes still glued to Wynonna’s back as the middle Earp girl almost sends two first years flying in her urgency to leave the Great Hall.

“She forgot to do her Transfiguration homework,” answers Waverly, adding as a mumbled afterthought, “Again.”

“Your sister continues to baffle me,” says Nicole, shaking her head disapprovingly, though the trace of a smile that crosses her lips puts her disapproval in an oh-that’s-so-Wynonna kind of way.

“You mean how after five years she still hasn’t realised that she could avoid detention by actually doing her homework?” Waverly asks. She rolls her eyes, though by this point she has moved way past irritation at her sister’s behaviour, and almost beyond desperation too, into boredom at the repetition of Wynonna’s lack of consideration for school rules. “Or the fact that the public humiliation of getting a Howler from our aunt seems to do nothing to stop her from pulling idiotic stunts like releasing a swarm of pixies into the Great Hall during the evening feast?”

Nicole grimaces as she replies, “I feel at least partially responsible for that one. She told me about her plans and I didn’t try very hard to convince her not to do it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Waverly reassures Nicole. “I’m not sure you could have said anything to stop her.”

Nicole laughs softly in agreement, a pretty laugh that fills Waverly’s heart with a warmth that she decides that she wants to feel over and over again. As her laughter falls away, Nicole’s gaze flickers up, her brown eyes wide and filled with a doe-like innocence as she looks at Waverly.

“Anyway, enough about Wynonna, how are you?”

Though the question, at least Waverly assumes so from the expression on Nicole’s face, has no deeper intention than genuine interest in Waverly’s life, it still takes her aback. After their first meeting, Waverly had been certain that any future interactions with Nicole wouldn’t stretch further than perhaps a nod of acknowledgement in the other’s direction as they pass in the corridors, particularly considering Waverly’s accidental rudeness with her comments about Quidditch players. It’s enough of a surprise that Nicole has made the choice to come and talk to her at breakfast at all – indeed Waverly presumed that Nicole just wanted the hot gossip about Wynonna’s latest escapades – let alone the fact that she is showing an interest in Waverly.

“I’m … I’m good, thanks,” she replies, her mouth a little dry as she stumbles over even the most basic of answers in her surprise. “And you?”

“Not too bad,” answer Nicole. Reaching a hand up to her own neck, Nicole tilts her head to the side and winces, before she says, “My neck aches a little though … you know, from holding up my giant head.”

Waverly lets out a low groan and covers her eyes with one hand as she shakes her head. Letting her hand fall back down to her side, Waverly says, “I really cannot apologise enough for what I said about Quidditch players.”

“Apology accepted,” says Nicole. A slow grin starts to spread across her face and Waverly lets herself relax, until Nicole’s expression turns serious and she adds, “but on one condition.”

With her heart racing inside her chest, Waverly fights a wave of panic as she asks, “What’s that?”

Nicole leans across the table, and though the pause before she speaks has Waverly almost trembling in anticipation, her voice is full of teasing undertones when she finally speaks.

“You come and watch me play the next time that Hufflepuff have a game.”

Waverly sighs in relief and then nods, “Deal.”

“Waverly,” says Nicole, feigning seriousness and tilting her head to the side slightly as she leans closer. “I’m going to have to ask you to calm it down with the enthusiasm.”

Waverly sighs again exaggeratedly for comedic effect and then fights back a smile as she looks at Nicole and says, “The things I do for friendship.”

The slow grin that spreads across Nicole’s face at the word friendship is so pure that Waverly wants to capture it in her memory forever. It’s almost as if Nicole can’t quite believe that Waverly wants to be friends with her, a thought which stuns Waverly because she can’t quite comprehend why Nicole would choose to join her for breakfast, when she presumably has so many other friends from her own year group that she could sit with instead.

“What’s your first class?” Nicole asks, as Waverly finishes the final mouthful of her breakfast as sets her cutlery down on the plate.

“Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“Can I walk you to class?” asks Nicole, almost breathlessly.

Waverly freezes up in shock, though not in a bad way. Definitely not in a bad way. She’s struck once again by how innocent Nicole’s request is, and wonders immediately why she’s wasted the last four years at Hogwarts seeking the approval of literally everybody else in the castle when all it takes is one wide-eyed Muggleborn for her to suddenly feel incredibly valued as an individual. Not even Champ, with his slightly ill-placed yet well-meaning affection, has ever filled Waverly with this kind of warmth before.

“I’d like that,” Waverly agrees with a shy smile. “But don’t you have your own class to get to.”

“It’s fine,” Nicole dismisses Waverly with a casual flick of her hand as she gets to her feet once more. “It’s on the way.”

Waverly is pretty certain that Nicole is in the same Transfiguration class that Wynonna and Dolls have first thing this morning, and despite knowing that the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom is two floors higher and in the opposite wing of the castle to Transfiguration – definitely not on the way at all – she agrees regardless.

“Thank you.”

Waverly follows Nicole out of the rapidly emptying Great Hall and the pair fall into stride out in the Entrance Hall as they walk towards the Grand Staircase.

“So.” Nicole starts, “it’s the Hogsmeade trip next weekend. Are you going?”

“Yeah,” answers Waverly. “I think I’m supposed to be going with Champ.”

As they step onto the first moving staircase, Nicole turns to look at Waverly, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Champ … Champ Hardy? You two are still…?”

Waverly nods, and then says, “Uh huh. Six and a half months.”

Nicole’s eyes widen and she stares out into the distance for a few seconds as the staircase comes to a shuddering halt beneath them. She waits until they have started walking again, taking a door that leads out of the central staircase and into the part of the castle where the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom is, before speaking again.

“Things are pretty serious then?”

Waverly shrugs, leading the way along a narrow corridor and then up a twisting spiral staircase before answering, “I … I guess so.”

“No need to sound so enthusiastic, Waves,” Nicole says, any sign of whatever it was that crossed her face when she learned about Waverly and Champ gone as she shoots Waverly a teasing smile and nudges her elbow against Waverly’s arm. Waverly’s eyes widen at the unexpected pet name, which Nicole seems to immediately take as a bad thing, rushing into a hasty apology. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to … can I call you that?”

The rush of affection that Waverly feels for Nicole upon hearing the nickname intensified by the fact that it just slipped out by accident, is unlike anything that Waverly has felt in a very long time, and she nods shyly.

“I like it.”

Nicole relaxes visibly, letting out a long sigh of relief just as they reach the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, where Waverly can already see some of her classmates beginning to settle into their seats beyond the classroom door.

“Well, here we are,” Waverly says brightly, not exactly sure what the etiquette is for thanking a budding new friend for accompanying her to class. For going completely out of her own way to walk Waverly to class, despite having her own lesson in a different part of the castle to get to, and particularly after Waverly did the exact opposite of giving Nicole a reason to want to be such a good friend during their first meeting. “Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I know I didn’t,” agrees Nicole. “But I wanted to.”

They hover awkwardly at the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, neither one quite sure how to part ways. Waverly has never had the pleasure of being walked to class before and she isn’t really sure how to say goodbye – does she walk into class and then Nicole leaves, or should she wait for Nicole to leave before she enters the classroom?

Nicole is the one who finally puts an end to it.

“Well, I should go,” she says, and Waverly thinks that the reluctance that she hears edging its way into Nicole’s tone could be more than just wishful thinking on her part. “I have to get to Transfiguration.”

“Okay,” nods Waverly, taking a slow step backwards towards the classroom door as she lifts a hand to wave goodbye. “Bye, Nicole.”

“Goodbye, Waverly.”

Hogsmeade never fails to leave Nicole in a stunned state of awe. Every trip feels like the first one and the excitement of walking down the path from the castle in the midst of a swarm of students and seeing the picturesque little village with its crooked buildings and winding streets come into view has Nicole’s heart doing little flips in her chest as she imagines what the day has in store.

Hogsmeade has an old-fashioned kind of charm to it. The buildings are small and quaint; wooden signs swing in the breeze above the entrances to shops, smoke drifts up from crooked chimney pipes atop tiled roofs, and the window of Honeydukes displays shelf upon shelf of glass jars filled with coloured sweets like an old Victorian shop. Yet there’s something so incredibly special about the magic that brings Hogsmeade to life and sets it apart from the small Muggle villages dotted across the British countryside.

Nicole, along with what feels like every other Hogwarts student visiting the village, spends the first hour of her trip in Honeydukes. It takes that long to make it around the entire shop, what with how many teenagers are crammed into such a tiny space, but even when Nicole finally makes her way out of the busy shop and back onto the cobbled streets, her hands and pockets overflowing with paper bags full of a colourful assortment of all kinds of treats, Nicole is still certain that there must be at least one kind of wizarding confectionary that she’s been meaning to try but has missed out on due to the sheer number of students crowding the shelves in Honeydukes.

Bidding farewell to two of her closest friends in Hufflepuff, who have both arranged to meet their boyfriends in the disgustingly frilly teashop down one of the side streets off Hogsmeade’s main road, Nicole ambles down the street alone, basking in the crisp autumn breeze that hits her face and the aura of magic that fills the air.

“Nicole!”

A voice shouting her name catches Nicole’s attention and she spends a few seconds looking around for its owner, finally catching sight of Waverly Earp standing outside one of the shops. Waverly is bundled up in a thick cloak, her blue and bronze Ravenclaw scarf, and a pair of fluffy earmuffs, and she bounces up and down on her toes as she waves eagerly to get Nicole’s attention.

“Waverly, hi!” Nicole tries not to seem too eager as she bounds over to Waverly. Glancing around, Nicole frowns at the fact that Waverly is by herself and asks, “No Champ?”

Waverly gestures over her shoulder with her thumb and Nicole’s insides sink with the weight of a heavy anchor as she peers through the glass shopfront behind Waverly, where she can see Champ Hardy amongst a group fo boys laughing at something on one of the shelves inside.

“Apparently Champ’s idea of a perfect date is dragging me along while he mucks about with his friends and pays more attention to silly joke shop toys than her does to me,” Waverly says, her tone bitter as she turns to look at Champ through the window, who seems oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend is waiting for him outside the shop.

“Would you rather he took you to Madam Puddifoot’s?” asks Nicole, thinking of her two best friends and the presumably nausea-inducing dates they are on with their own boyfriends.

“Merlin, no!” Waverly answers with a grimace. “Have you seen the inside of that place? It looks like a lace factory exploded.”

Tilting her head to the side, Nicole teases, “Is that not what girls like?”

“You’re a girl,” Waverly quips back, “You tell me.”

It catches Nicole off-guard. Sometimes she forgets that the rest of the world around her is so painfully heterosexual and she tries not to let the surprise show on her face – the very last thing she wants to do is scare Waverly off.

Instead, Nicole takes a deep breath to calm herself down and replies, “I’m not like most girls.”

She’s trying to be cool and mysterious, despite the hammering of her heart, and she thinks that it works because Waverly takes a few seconds to consider Nicole’s words. But then a sly smile crosses Waverly’s lips and she agrees, “No, I guess not,” which flusters Nicole and leaves her feeling the exact opposite of cool and mysterious.

Twitchy and transparent.

Which isn’t exactly the vibe she’s aiming to give off at all.

Nicole takes a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down, an impressive feat considering the question that’s on the tip of her tongue, and then speaks once more.

“I know you’re on a date,” Nicole uses air quotes as she says the word date, causing Waverly to laugh softly and roll her eyes, “but I was on my way to the bookshop if you fancy coming with me?”

“Seriously?” asks Waverly, her head jerking up and her eyes wide in surprise as they search Nicole’s face for any sign that her invitation might not be genuine. When Nicole nods, teeth digging into her lower lips slightly as she awaits a response, Waverly sighs in relief and answers, “Oh thank you, I’d love to. I don’t think I can put up with Champ’s idiotic friends for much longer.”

Nicole can’t stop the grin that spreads across her face as Waverly bounces over to her. Nicole loops her arm through Waverly’s under the pretence of huddling together to ward off the chilly October breeze and Waverly leans into her side as they stroll down the cobbled road towards Tomes and Scrolls, Hogsmeade’s only bookshop.

“So how has your week been?” Nicole asks conversationally.

“Oh, you know,” Waverly answers vaguely, her voice bright. She glances up at Nicole with a knowing expression on her face, before adding, “It’s fifth year.”

Frowning, Nicole asks, “But I can’t imagine that you’re finding the workload too much?”

Waverly hesitates before answering, then confesses with a little tremor in her voice, “I … I kind of love it.”

She lowers her gaze in shame, as if somehow believing that Nicole is going to find her weird and abandon her with Champ and his friends for the rest of the day for enjoying her academic studies, as if they aren’t currently on their way to a bookshop, of all places. Nicole doesn’t consider herself a violent person, in fact she much prefers to work things out with words than with brute force, but she can’t help but find herself filling with a quiet rage along with the urge to hurt whoever has made Waverly feel like it’s not okay for her to enjoy learning.

It’s maybe not intentional, but Nicole clings to Waverly just a little bit tighter with the arm currently linked through Waverly’s, silently communicating her reassurances that it’s okay for Waverly to be completely herself around Nicole.

“What’s your favourite subject?” asks Nicole, encouraging Waverly to speak more about the things that she loves.

Waverly glances up at Nicole briefly, a soft kind of wonder in her eyes as if she can’t quite believe that Nicole is actually interested in getting to know her, then she smiles as she answers happily, “Definitely Ancient Runes. It’s so fascinating, so complex but so rewarding, you know?”

“I … I actually don’t,” admits Nicole. “I didn’t take Runes. I regret it though, choosing Divination was a terrible decision.”

“You took Divination?” Waverly asks, her eyebrows shooting up with such speed that Nicole is surprised they don’t keep going and disappear into her hairline. “That surprises me.”

“Really?” Nicole shrugs, then explains, “I’m Muggleborn so the whole idea of predicting the future is like a childhood fantasy come true. Of course I took Divination.”

“And how did the class compare to the childhood fantasies?”

Laughing and shaking her head at the memories of the complete joke that was three years of Divination classes, Nicole answers truthfully, “It was a complete waste of time, to be honest!”

Upon reaching the bookshop, Nicole reluctantly lets her arm slip free from Waverly’s and pushes open the door, standing aside as she holds it open to let Waverly enter first, who beams at Nicole and mutters a soft thanks in return.

When she follows Waverly inside, Nicole stops and takes a few moments to appreciate her new surroundings. Each towering bookshelf holds hundreds of leather bound books, each book contains thousands upon thousands of words. From spellbooks to advanced potion making, herbology to ancient magical lore, colourfully illustrated children’s books on magical creatures to dusty tomes written in almost forgotten languages, there must be a book on every conceivable subject somewhere in this shop. Nicole could spend a lifetime in here and still barely scratch the surface of the knowledge that is waiting to be uncovered.

But being here with Waverly brings a different kind of excitement. It’s not a date, Nicole has to remind herself every few seconds, because Waverly is just a friend, but Nicole would be lying if she said that she hadn’t meticulously planned out every detail of what a first date with Waverly would entail. And this would be it; a couple of hours in a bookshop where they explore the shelves that are filled with stimuli for an endless number of conversations, how they could get to know each other so well just by walking around this shop and discovering where the other’s interests lie.

Not to mention the fact that Nicole is a hopeless romantic at heart and the throwback to where they first met, surrounded by the high bookshelves of the Hogwarts library, seems to signify something really special to Nicole.

But this is not a date.

Absolutely not.

It’s so hard to keep telling herself that when Waverly grabs Nicole’s hand with her own mitten-covered one and drags her to the back of the bookshop.

They’re in the Runes section of the bookshop and Nicole barely has any idea what Waverly is saying (something along the lines of a collection of books that she’s been saving up her galleons for) but it doesn’t really matter. Waverly could be talking about a subject that Nicole knows more about than anybody else in the world and the words would still mean nothing because Nicole is far too enraptured by the way that Waverly gesticulates with her arms, far too mesmerised by the passion and the enthusiasm with which Waverly talks, to take notice of the words themselves.

Waverly is beautiful. Of course, Nicole already knew that from a purely objective point of view, but Waverly’s intelligence stretches far beyond any kind of physical beauty. Nicole could be presented with an actual Veela, and she would still think that Waverly, with her quiet charm and otherworldly intellect, is the most beautiful girl on the planet.

Waverly Earp – who even just a couple of weeks ago was nothing more than a stranger, a quiet Ravenclaw in the year below Nicole who always keeps herself to herself, known for being the youngest daughter from a family of famous dark wizard hunters – sharing her passions with Nicole with expressive authenticity, is now just Waverly.

And yet she is so much more than that too.

“Are you okay?”

Waverly’s question brings Nicole out of her own thoughts and she feels a little bit delirious as she answers, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Way more than okay.

It is thirst finally getting the better of them that forces them to leave the bookshop. Though Nicole could quite easily spend the rest of the day in the bookshop with Waverly, listening to the other girl talk about subjects that she’s interested in and moving from one conversation to another with an effortless kind of ease that is just so completely unlike anything that Nicole could find in any of her other friendships, they have to leave eventually, wrapping themselves up in their cloaks and scarves once more before leaving the shop and crossing the street to the Three Broomsticks.

“Thank you for this,” Waverly says, as the pair sit down at a table near the fireplace in the cosy pub, each holding a frothy tankard of butterbeer.

“For what?” Nicole asks, confused as to what she has done to warrant a thank you.

“For saving me from having to spend the day with Champ and his friends,” explains Waverly. She takes a sip of her butterbeer and then, with her teeth anxiously nibbling at her lower lips, continues, “Is it bad that I’m almost glad that he’s with his friends today because it means I don’t have to deal with him one on one?”

Nicole’s eyebrows shoot upwards and she replies, “He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he supposed to be the one person that you want to spend all your time with?”

Waverly’s face falls and she shrugs, before answering, “I guess so. But with Champ it’s just … sometimes I feel like I’m just a piece of arm candy, like he doesn’t actually care about me beyond having somebody to make out with occasionally.” Waverly hesitates, then adds, “And that he can say he’s bagged himself an Earp.”

Nicole reaches across the table and rests her hand over Waverly’s, unable to believe how anybody is capable of making Waverly feel so underappreciated and still be able to sleep at night.

“Waverly,” Nicole says, looking into the other girl’s eyes and speaking with complete honesty. “You’re so much more than some guy’s trophy. Anybody would be lucky to call you their girlfriend. And if Champ Hardy can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Waverly glances down, embarrassed, and makes a noncommittal grunt, so Nicole continues.

“I can’t tell you how to live your life, or who should and shouldn’t have an important place in it,” she tells Waverly, “but if you ever want to complain about boys, or plot how to crush the heteronormative patriarchy, I’m your girl.”

Waverly looks up, a soft smile on her face, and she just opens her mouth to say something in response when the pub door crashes open, letting in a chilly gust of wind as four boys jostle their way inside, led by a familiar figure. Upon seeing her boyfriend, who she abandoned earlier in the day in favour of spending time with Nicole, Waverly sits up straighter and anything she might have been about to say to Nicole goes forgotten.

“Champ!”

The boy looks around, searching for the voice that said his name, and when his eyes fall on Waverly and he gapes at her with a dumbfounded expression on his face, Nicole suspects that he might not even have noticed his girlfriend’s absence today at all.

“Oh,” he says. “Waverly. You’re here.”

“Yes,” Waverly answers, her tone brusque, “I am.”

“Who is your friend?” Champ asks, nodding his head in Nicole’s direction.

“This is Nicole,” says Waverly. “We went to look at books together while you were in the joke shop.”

Champ spends a few seconds looking at Nicole, his eyes slightly narrowed as he appraises her briefly, before he relaxes and turns to Waverly with a smile on his face. A stupid, stupid smile that Nicole wants to wipe off with a flick of her wand.

“That’s so cool that you’ve got a friend to do girly stuff with instead of me,” he tells Waverly.

Like Nicole says, she really wants to inflict some physical pain on Champ and her brain is already forming a list of the spells that she could use and ranking them based on a combination of how much embarrassment they would cause Champ and how much pleasure they would give her to use.

But instead of taking out her wand and hexing Champ into the next century, Nicole forces herself to stay calm and asks, “Girly stuff? You mean like reading?”

Waverly’s soft snort from beside her is more than worth any backlash she might face from Champ for that comment. But instead of retaliating with anger, Champ seems to miss the sarcasm in Nicole’s voice entirely, instead taking her by surprise by actually agreeing with her.

“Yeah,” he nods, without a trace of irony in his voice. “Just like that.”

Champ walks closer to their table, closing the gap between himself and Waverly so that he can lean down and press a kiss to her lips, though Waverly turns her head slightly at the last minute so that his mouth lands on her cheek instead. Unperturbed, or perhaps he just didn’t notice Waverly’s lack of enthusiasm for his affection, he straightens up and gets ready to walk over to where his friends stand at the bar waiting to order their drinks.

“See you later, babe,” he says, before he departs.

“I didn’t know that boys couldn’t read,” says Nicole drily, the moment that Champ is out of earshot, “but that explains so much.”

Waverly’s laugh in response, as sweet and smooth as the butterbeer that they drink and such a contrast to the frosty reception she gave to Champ, is possibly the only thing that matters in Nicole’s world.

#wayhaught #wayhaught fanfic #waverly earp #nicole haught #wayhaught fic #hogwarts au #almostafantasia #wayhaught hogwarts

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ladyygrace · 6 years ago

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020819

woke up with another crick in my neck sos

kinda did my hair with my new haircut (??) and went to work

had a v disorganized day at work but...

bought a new waterbottle bc it was cute! it’s my first metal water bottle so i have high hopes since all my previous ones have been plastic

my work wife caitlin visited me at work!!! she works in ohio now, but she was driving through and wanted to see me *hearts*

successfully avoided the guy who means well but gives me anxiety bc he always asks me questions i can’t?? answer?? “why don’t you teach a class on children’s lit at wcc? i’d take it? why don't you write children’s books? i’d read it?”

made best friends with other kpop fans for five minutes in which i realized our concepts of kpop (& bts) are very different

y’all i sounded like a grandmother: “we have to protect jimin. also jungkook. also — i don’t know we have to protect all of them okay”

“our generation will be noticeable by our use of harry potter illustrated editions as coffee table books” - me, an inspired genius

saw tons of our friday regulars who greeted me like we were best friends awwww

one of my managers who i had a huge public fight w/ last year when we were all stressed with layoffs and i had an intense 30-min conversation (bc he never stops talking but that’s beside the point) in which he insisted i was now part of “the team” aka managers + me, the last full-time employee left standing lollll

I KNOW I KEEP REMINDING Y’ALL TO READ ANYTHING BY @stdennard BUT BLOODWITCH CAME INTO THE STORE TODAY!!!! I HELD IT IN MY HANDS!!! I SCREAMED A LITTLE!!!!! I DIDN’T BUY IT!!! I HAVE TO WAIT TILL ITS RELEASE ON TUESDAY!!!! BUT!!!!!!!!!!! IT’S HERE!!!!!

was able to pick up my anxiety & anti-depressant prescription after a v stressful day of getting it refilled yike

finally finished ‘only woman in the room’ thank goodness

am doing my laundry and listening to SHINee on shuffle and pouring rum into rum & cokes like i’m pouring wine and realizing partway through i’ve poured too much sos

gonna keep working on my kpop 101 and by kpop i literally only mean SHINee but go off i guess google doc night y’all!!!

#t:positivity

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psalm51-6-blog · 6 years ago

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Joy Equals Strength - Week Two

All of the holiday nice tingly feeling is officially gone and we are hitting the ground running. I’m pretty sure I’ve had 50 cups of coffee already this year... if that tells you anything! Nonetheless it’s been a great, productive week - and I hope that you’ve found joy in all of life’s blessings

Week Two: Joy Givers

W had her 6 month appointment this week! And while there have been plenty of tears, she’s a happy healthy chubby baby! I loved getting to spend some one on one time with her while at the doc. All I ask is the next 6 months slow down.

This week, Randy and I got to sit down for an hour and video chat with a sweet friend from college and have our first marriage coaching. Cody and Crystal Maynard started a marriage and relationship coaching business to help build healthy and strong relationships. I won a free hour of coaching but rest assured it won’t be our last session! Every healthy relationship needs honesty and accountability- please check out @3cordcoach on Instagram to get connected!

Last week, in L’s church class, she was given a paper bag to help fill with non perishable goods, to help refill the food bank. As you can imagine, the holiday needs from the community wipe out food banks. When we explained to L that some families don’t have enough money for food, or they miss a meal, L was more than happy to help. Now, if you know anything about me, hate going to the grocery store- which is why I don’t do it.... read on and I’ll share a little tip. Anywho- I easily could’ve bought these items myself, but instead I made sure she understood why it’s important to help and that at any age, you can make a difference.

Week Two: Wardrobe

One tip I try to stick to when shopping is, if I like an item, I have to make sure I can wear it a couple of different ways. I want to be sure I will get the bang for my buck- no matter how much I spend. Mustard yellow has been a very trendy color this year. Finding a great solid top will always pair great with jackets and kimonos. And of course, I love me some good tassel necklaces!!

Week Two: Podcast and Music

If you follow my Instagram and facebook stories, you’ll quickly see the types of music and podcasts that I listen to. A few weeks ago I started listening to the grove podcast. This Atlanta based women’s community has allowed me find inspiration from many powerful, godly women, who understand what it’s like to have so many responsibilities.

This week- Priscilla Shirer (@priscillashirer) brought such a powerful and relatable talk (An Effective Minstry) about the treasures we each have. Y’all! It’s so good, I listened to it TWICE! I wanted to be sure that I heard it all!! So please put it on your playlist due this week!

Second- who doesn’t love a good upbeat song to get you in the mood to workout, clean house- it just get motivated?! The well known acapella group Pentatonix did an excellent mashup of two popular songs!

Week Two: Life Hack - Grocery Delivery

Over the past couple of years, grocery pick-up and delivery has become such a time saver for busy families. I have not been to the grocery store to buy a full weeks meals in almost 3 YEARS! y’all! I will forever pay for grocery delivery (I hope)! And while people constantly tell me that I can just go pick them up at HEB - that requires me to still go to HEB. Yea- I’m gonna be that spoiled! Shipt has provided such convenience for me and my family.

Details- $100 a year for free delivery of $35 purchases or more! I know $100 seems like a lot but it’s just $2 a week! And from what I know, curbside pickup can be $5 each time? Maybe I’m wrong... let me know

If you are interested send me a message and I can give you $50 off your first year’s subscription

Week Two: Family Meals

As an effort to be money savvy and fulfill my wife goals, I try to cook 5-6 times a week. Now, many of these meals are quick and repetitive.

After I gave birth to W, we had some wonderful meals brought to us. One in particular was the best roast that I’d ever had. My previous roast seemed watery and bland.. but this was tender with gravy goodness!

And what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t share one of my new favorite crockpot meals!

Mix one packet of Powdered Ranch dressing mix, one packet of brown gravy mix, and one packet of powdered zesty Italian dressing mix together.

Put 1/2 cup water in bottom of crockpot.

Melt 3 Tbsp butter and pour over roast, potatoes, baby carrots.

Sprinkle roast with powdered mixture.

Cook on low for 8-9 hours.

Shred and Eat!

Have an incredible week my friends!!

Let me know what you wanna see in my future posts!

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bestillmybeefyheart · 8 years ago

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It's been a while since I've ordered/purchased a CamelBak hydration pack, so the new choices were a bit overwhelming. I wanted something small but with pockets for phone, keys, snacks etc. And as I looked, I found that the 2016, which looks like an upgraded version of my original (sadly I lost it on a hike. Never set your pack down when you have several bags and one is full of camera gear. Your brain will think "dont leave camera!" And forget the other bag, derrrr). So, There's actually a newer model, the 2017 version, which is very similar to this one but a few differences that the reviews online all pointed out. Enough people commented on the sites I visited on the 2016 over the 2017 that I got the 2016 instead. It appears to be very similar to my old one, except the pockets are a bit different, the access to the bladder is easier now, and its a different color. My original, you had to open the top and pull the bladder out to refill or clean. I didn't mind that since I had 2-3 bladders ready to pop in for a ride. Nothing like a bladder filled with ice and water ready to go, I also like to toss some lemon slices in for flavor sometimes and the citris tends to cause issues so the bladders get replaced a lot. But, for how long they do last and what they do Id not mind. The 2016 has a side zipper on the top pocket which I liked better then the top zipper on the 2017. So did most of the reviewers. It also has an easy access popup "hood" over the main bladder opening for removal of the bladder and filling without removing it. I think this will be nice. I fill mine by holding it up to the fridge's water and ice output usually so we'll see how this goes, otherwise I can remove it to fill it no biggie. It also has a pocket at the bottom for phone, keys, snacks etc with a zipper, and behind that an open pocket for a map or rain cover etc. When I bike, I have my keys and phone which go in my bike bag on the main bar in front of me. It was originally designed to hold a phone so I could navigate or see, but the 7+ is too big so I just stuff the phone down inside w my keys, on top of my inflation nozzle and cassettes and a tool. I think being able to put my phone and keys in the backpack will be nice so they dont scratch. And I can put more tools and a tube into the front bike pack... Ive got one under the seat with a tube and patch kit, etc. You can never be too prepared. I have enough to change 2 tubes, air up 4, patch 4, plus tools to do whatever I need within reason. I've had enough "walk the flat home 10 miles" days that I am prepared. I used to carry all this in my backpack but it got heavy and hot. So we'll see how this goes. I think I'm going to the sporting goods store later when I go get groceries and see what models they have. I want to see the sizes and pockets etc. I use these hydration packs every day pretty much so having several is not a bad thing. Since I bike and ride motorcycles, having water on hand is very important in the summer especially. You get very warm in the sun and having water right there on a roadtrip is key. I also like tokeep some electrolyte tabs to dissolve in water on hand and a water bottle if i have room somewhere. I was using a collapsible water bottle that was great, just empty and flatten and it stuffs away. Then I can fill it with some water, toss in an electrolyte tab and let it dissolve. I've also brought Gatorade powder with me to mix for electrolytes too but the tabs have replaced that. Since my bike itself has NO place to put water bottles, a pack is key. The place where you normally put water bottles has a big box where the battery/controller are. I tried a "hanging" bottle holder on the bars but the bars are full of stuff and the bottle isnt enough water for me. I can drink 3 bottles during a ride. And the fountains along the way almost always get a stop and drink too. So i guess I'll see how this one goes, stop at Dicks/Target to see what they have just to see in person until mine comes, and go from there. I may end up with the 2017 or a larger one like the MULE as well, depending. My weekend bike rides tend to be 16-25 miles round trip and I want more snacks, tools, gear, etc on hand. I guess I'll find out. And this has to be better then the soft pack Im using now which makes myback sweat and is a bunch of wasted storage space since I rarely need to carry anything a full backpack needs. I think I need to nap a little now. I woke at 6am. And I'm supposed to be relaxing not paying bills and doing work etc, per the doc. Or babbling on and on about hydration. :D

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gocasualrunawaycollection-blog · 7 years ago

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