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the-fauxpas · 7 years ago

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one / the beginning

Savannah Harper, 22.

Self assured psych student.

She’s nonchalant, sarcastic, and her biggest achievement to date is being able to down five jagerbombs in less than 30 seconds.

Harry Styles, 23.

Overachieving law student.

He’s never faced a problem that couldn’t be fixed with a little help from his Russian friend - vodka.

a story of late nights, unorthodox household plants, and a trip to Vegas that changes everything

UNI AU co-written with @faux-styles

“Ok will you please stay still? I need to bloody think,” Harry groaned, staring down at the paper clasped between his fingers as if they held the answer.

“What do you even need to think about? It’s pretty obvious what’s written on the paper there,” Savannah rolled her eyes shifting in her seat. “And I’m sorry if I can’t sit still. I need to use the loo but someone won’t let me out.”

“I’m thinking about the legal matters of it all. I need to call a lawyer,” he muttered, completely disregarding Savannah’s bladder issues.

“How are you going to call a lawyer if you’re 35,000 feet up in the air, Harry?” she deadpanned.

“Thanks for pointing that out, by the way. Thanks so much for that,” the sarcasm rolled quick and swift off Harry’s tongue. Apparently he became rather sarcastic in moments of hysteria.

Savannah laughed. “Come here, you should take the window seat. Maybe it’ll calm you down,” she teased.

“One, I’m not completely daft. I know you’re trying to get me to let you out into the aisle. Two, you’re absolutely not funny and three, will you please stop mucking about, this is a serious matter,” Harry implored, even as the stiffness in his shoulders melted away slightly as he turned to glance at her.

“You know, I can’t be serious about something that’s been signed by Elvis. I mean look at that, he swirled the ‘E’ and everything,” she leaned over Harry’s shoulder and snorted at the signature. “Not even the Queen’s that fancy.”

“I’m somewhat sure that’s not true, Sav,” Harry commented, momentarily distracted. “I reckon the Queen would have more class than Elvis.”

“Ok, but Elvis is the King of Rock n Roll,” she pointed out matter of factly.

“And she’s the bloody Queen of England. Also, she’s still alive.”

“Semantics,” Savannah waved him off.

“I’m so done with you,” he shook his head, frustration seeping from every pore on his body. “Like, I’m actually done with you.”

“Don’t be so rude, Harry. You’re ruining this entire trip,” Savannah stated, giving him a disapproving glare. “Now budge up so I can use the loo.”

“My dad’s going to kill me,” Harry whined, turning to once again stare at the damning piece of paper clutched between his fingers and once again ignoring Savannah.

“Bloody hell,” she sighed. “It’s probably not even legally binding. Just calm down and wait until we land before having a breakdown. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

“Savannah, I don’t think you understand the fact that this is a legal document which means this will be on my file forever,” Harry tried to explain. “My dad is actually going to murder me. I can see the lecture already coming - what will people think, Harry. You’re going to be a lawyer. Our reputation is on the line,” he mimicked in what Savannah thought was meant to be an impression of his dad.

“Just don’t tell him,” she shrugged. “You’re acting like you’ve committed a felony. Relax, Styles, it’s not like you’re going to jail for this.”

“That’s not the point!” he exclaimed, scrunching up the already crumbled piece of paper between his fingers, even more.

“That’s not the point,” Savannah mocked, in a startlingly accurate Harry impersonation.

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, and I’m not going to stop bothering you until you let me out,” she crossed her arms smugly.

Harry sighed in defeat, his shoulder slumping with exhaustion as he gave up. “Fine, but can you bring me a drink when you come back?” he asked, rubbing the side of his head to try and ease the growing headache.

Savannah huffed, unbuckling her seatbelt and standing up. “First, you keep me captive and now you’re demanding things. I see where this is going.”

“Sod off,” Harry scoffed defensively.

“With pleasure,” she smiled sweetly, pushing her way past Harry. She slipped her right hand into the pouch of the seat in front of him as she passed, carefully pulling out his small vial of sleeping pills and slipping them into her pocket. “Be right back.”

Harry snorted, once again turning back to his newfound obsession with the document before him. Savannah scoffed as she walked away.

It didn’t take her long to return, a cup of water clamped tightly between her fingers. “Here you go, you wanker,” she shoved the cup towards him as she pushed her way back to her seat.

“No need to be so bloody rude about it,” Harry glared at her, moving his gangly legs back to allow her room to pass by.

Savannah didn’t reply, opting to simply glance at him from the corner of her eye as he chugged down his drink.

He frowned a little once he was done, staring at the plastic cup strangely.

“Everything alright?” she asked him casually, picking at her fingernails.

“Water tasted a little strange,” he mused.

“Oh, yeah,” Sav said, as if she’d just remembered to warn him. “I forgot to tell you, I slipped in a couple of your pills,” she shrugged.

“You did what?” Harry hissed, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“You were going to give yourself premature greys,” she defended herself. “And I couldn’t in good conscience sit by and not do anything about it.”

“You drugged me,” Harry said, sounding thoroughly stunned. “You actually drugged me,” he repeated.

“It was for the greater good,” she explained, before muttering under her breath, “I can’t believe they’re taking so long to work.”

“And I can’t believe you drugged me,” he said once again, apparently having heard her.

“You’ll thank me when the flight’s over,” she said confidently, seeming entirely unfazed by the glare Harry was shooting at her.

“The only thing I’m going to be thanking you with, is a law suit,” he hissed, but Savannah was able to note the faint slurring of his words and perked up slightly.

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” she pat his hand gently where it was resting between them.

“I hate you,” Harry said in defeat, his eyes beginning to droop as sleep fought to overtake him. “How many bloody drugs did you give me?”

“Uh, like three?” Savannah posed it as a question. “It said take a maximum of three.”

“Once I’m conscious enough again,” Harry murmured, eyes closing. “We’re going to have a very serious conversation about this.”

“Just go to sleep, Harry. God knows you need it,” Savannah sighed, using the airplane supplied blankets to cover him.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” he sighed, and not for the first time Savannah felt a sympathetic tugging on her heart as sleep overtook him and she was left to her own thoughts.

“Yeah,” Savannah agreed with a sigh, letting all pretenses of perkiness drop as she stared at him with worry instead. “Me neither.”

*four months ago*

Savannah Harper liked to consider herself independent enough that she didn’t need a man in her life to keep her happy. And a year and a half ago, she was convinced that no man in the whole of England could ever change that, could ever make her lose control of herself enough to let someone in. She didn’t think that she’d ever fall for anyone enough that she’d make them such a significant part of her life - significant enough that she’d move in with them and consider her chances at a happily ever after.

Savannah hadn’t wanted a boyfriend, she hadn’t wanted to fall in love. And it had all been going well for her, too, until one day it wasn’t and she found herself falling for a boy.

And, unsurprisingly to her, it didn’t end very well.

A sudden turn of events had left her just out of an eighteen-month-long relationship with some guy from her psych lecture, and with the one thing that she didn’t think would ever happen to her - a broken heart. However, Savannah being Savannah meant she had been intent on keeping her life as normal as she possibly could, despite what had happened. She was fine, she told herself constantly - the phrase alone becoming a mantra of sorts. But being fine came with a price - and in her case it had been her two overly worried best friends waiting for her to have a breakdown.

“You’re going to have to talk about it at some point, Sav,” Alexa said softly, trying not to startle her. “It’s not good to keep things bottled up.”

“You should know that better than any of us,” Reyna added, sidling up to Alexa. “Being the future psychologist and all.”

Savannah glared at them, shrugging Alexa’s arm off her shoulder and moving away from the kitchen counter with her cup of tea clasped firmly in her hands. “I’m fine,” she insisted, and she really believed she was.

“No you’re bloody well not,” Reyna crossed her arms across her chest, staring Savannah down. “It’s been, what, three weeks?” she asked rhetorically. “And you’re sitting around in Lex’s flat acting fine while drinking your damn tea and eating two minute noodles straight from the box for breakfast, lunch and dinner. This isn’t healthy!”

“Rey,” Lex warned. “Go easy on her.”

“No,” Reyna glared. “She needs to hear this.”

“What do you expect me to do?!” Savannah exploded, spinning around to face her friends. “He’s been screwing around with other girls, I’m not going to be upset over someone who clearly doesn’t care about me! I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me have a breakdown.”

Reyna’s expression softened. “We’re not him, Sav,” she said quietly.

“You don’t have to pretend to be fine with us,” Alexa added. “You know that.”

“I know,” Sav’s shoulder’s slumped with exhaustion. “I know. But I really am fine. If I wasn’t I’d tell you guys,” she promised. “But I really do feel fine right now, and I don’t want to burden you guys with something so unimportant. Rey, you never even liked Cam. And you warned me against him,” she looked at Alexa. “I just didn’t listen.”

“Bloody hell, you muppet,” Reyna rolled her eyes, crossing the room to engulf her in a hug, Alexa following suit. “You won’t be burdening us. It’s our job to shit talk exes with you.”

“We’re your friends, Sav,” Alexa nodded along. “You’re supposed to ignore us and then come to us if things go wrong. It’s called friendship.”

“Would you like me to spell it out for you?” Reyna joked. “F-R-I-E-N-”

She was interrupted as Savannah shoved her away. “Twat,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“There we are! There’s that smile,” Alexa cooed at her, pinching her cheeks the way you would to a toddler.

“I hate you guys.”

Reyna snorted. “No, you don’t.”

“You don’t even come close to hating us,” Alexa agreed. Savannah pursed her lips, trying to fight off another smile and ultimately failing.

“I know what we could do,” she said, a thought popping into her head. “To convince you guys that I really am fine.”

“What?” Reyna asked warily, suddenly nervous of what Savannah had conjured in her mind.

“There’s a new club opening up in Mayfair tonight and I got on the guest list. Think it would clear my mind if we went,” she said innocently enough that her friends would have no choice but to agree.

Reyna and Alexa exchanged looks, they still weren’t convinced she was fine and were worried about what she’d do if she were to get drunk in a public place after bottling everything up for three entire weeks. At home, they could monitor how much alcohol Savannah consumed - but at a club, there was no way to tell how much she drank, or what she would do.

“First off,” Reyna began. “How the heck did you end up on the guest list? And secondly, are you sure that’s a good-?” she tried to continue, only to get elbowed in the stomach by Alexa.

“Ignore Reyna. I think it sounds like a great idea,” Lex grinned, ignoring her friend’s glare. It was worth it, however, to see Savannah grin back at them, an excited gleam in her eyes.

When they arrived, the club was dank and the music too loud. The dance floor was a sweaty cocoon of hundreds of people all moving to the DJ’s beat, unknowingly heightening the already suffocating atmosphere. And yet despite all this, Savannah Harper found that she was having the time of her life.

In fact, with each shot of alcohol that made its way down her throat and the warmth of several people grinding up against her, thoughts about Cameron and his infidelity began to seep from her mind — which was exactly what she wanted. All she could focus on was the heavy beat of the music and the slight burn of alcohol on the back of her throat.

Savannah thought this was probably the best idea she’d had in years, and wished her friends would join her. They had no idea what they were missing. But Reyna and Alexa simply watched on worriedly as their friend drunkenly swayed to the music as yet another body joined her - handing her another drink.

“I’m getting another drink!” Reyna called over the loud music, catching Alexa’s eye and waving her empty glass.

“I’ll stay here and watch Sav,” she yelled back giving Reyna the ok to leave for the bar. “Shit,” she muttered glancing back out at the crowd, which had become rather Savannah-less. “I take my eyes off you for two minutes,” Alexa muttered, heading in the direction of the pulsing dance floor.

But Savannah was nowhere to be seen. She’d disappeared into the crowd, essentially leaving everything behind her. All her worries had flown through the window the moment she had downed her eighth drink, and suddenly nothing seemed all that important - except maybe finding some more alcohol. Everything had started to blur together, and she could feel herself swaying to the beat as it vibrated through her every nerve. She felt like she was floating.

Everything in her mind was blank, so when random hands found their place on her hips, she didn’t even think twice about it. She didn’t really think twice about anything that happened after, really. She forgot all about the past few weeks, and about her friends who were searching the club frantically for her as she gripped the tall stranger’s hand and left the club with him.

For one night, she decided to forget who she was, and that’s exactly what she did. She snuffed out any lingering doubts floating in her mind by taking one final shot, before she stumbled out of the club and into the back of an Uber with the equally intoxicated stranger.

When Savannah woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and in a bed that was not her own, she just knew that she was going to be in trouble. She had no clue where she was, how she had gotten there, nor how she was going to get home. She didn’t even know where her phone was.

“Shit,” she muttered bringing her hand up to her face and rubbing the lingering sleep from her eyes. “Shit,” she repeated noting the outline under the sheets of a naked guy beside her. A guy whose name she couldn’t remember even if her life depended on it. “Shit,” she cursed again.

“Shut up,” grumbled the voice beside her and Savannah froze realising she’d woken him up. She held her breath, waiting for him to put the pieces together.

Lying there, she counted the seconds in her head—which wasn’t all that hard to do seeing as her head was pounding along to them. Her eyes took on the shape of saucers as the guy began to move, shamelessly staring as the muscles in his back rippled. She averted her eyes when she realised that he had turned around to face her.

“Shit,” he echoed Savannah’s exclamations as he slowly sat up, careful to keep the white bed sheet covering his privates. The two stared at one another in awkward silence, both waiting for the other to be the first to instigate the much-needed, albeit extremely awkward, conversation they were undoubtedly going to have.

“I don’t remember your name,” Savannah broke the silence rather bluntly. The awkward atmosphere was making her skin crawl and all she wanted to do was to get out of there. “Sorry,” she apologised afterwards, knowing her words had sounded standoffish and that her tone was rather rude. “I was planning to leave earlier, I just don’t remember… much.”

“It’s Harry,” he grinned at her, trying to hold back a chuckle. “And it’s ok, seeing as I can’t seem to remember your name either. Sally or something right?”

“Savannah.”

“Right! Savannah,” Harry clicked his finger repeating her name. “Well, Savannah, seeing as you’re still here, do you think you could fill me in on what happened last night?”

She wasn’t sure if his question took on an accusatory tone, almost as if he was blaming her, or if she was imagining things. Regardless, this caused Savannah to raise her eyebrows, as if daring him continue with that train of thought.

“I was hoping you could tell me the same thing,” she said, carefully crossing her arms across her chest and making sure to keep her half of the bed sheet covering her decency. She didn’t want this Harry person to get anymore eyefuls of her body than he’d probably already seen last night.

“I’m assuming we shagged,” Harry shrugged like it was a natural occurrence—which, from the sight of him, probably was. God, what if he had an STI?

“From our state of dress—”

“More like undress,” Harry muttered, cutting her off. “And god, can you get any more formal,” he commented - Savannah chose to ignore him.

“From our state of dress, and the fact that this room smells like sex and cheap cologne, I’d say that’s a solid assumption,” she rolled her eyes, letting sarcasm seep into her last few words.

“Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Whose cologne are you calling cheap?”

“Yours, obviously,” she tried to raise a brow and from the amused quirk to Harry’s lips she knew she’d failed.

“Whatever,” he sighed, flopping onto his back and rubbing at his eyes. “I can’t remember anything and I don’t think you can either, so I’m going to have a shower and you’re going to leave,” Harry said, grabbing what seemed to be a pair of boxers off the floor and pulling them up his legs, keeping his back to Savannah.

It wasn’t exactly an unwelcome sight, she mused, watching as his body moved to do his brain’s bidding. But she had more pressing matters to address right now.

“You’re right, I don’t remember anything,” Savannah agreed. “Like whether we used a condom or not?” she probed and watching carefully, she was rewarded with the tensing of Harry’s shirtless form.

“Shit,” Harry cursed. “Are you on the pill?” he spun around, panic clearly obvious on his face.

“Yes, but—”

“Thank god,” Harry let out a breath in relief.

“You do realise the pill is only about 92% accurate,” Savannah told him dryly, making him once again freeze up. She hadn’t been sure whether to be thankful that Reyna had told her the nifty pill-fact at the time, but now she was sending her friend a silent thanks. “And anyway, that’s not why I asked. There’s the more pressing matter of whether or not you’re carrying around an STI,” she spoke casually even though she was nervous; more so about Harry’s reaction than his answer.

True to her thoughts, Harry glared at her. “I’m clean.”

“If you say so, mate,” Savannah teased, although from the look of absolute fury on Harry’s face, she thought it was safe to assume he was telling the truth.

“If anyone here has one, it’s probably you,” Harry shot back, standing up from the bed and moving around to stand in front of Savannah, who also jumped up to stand, not liking the way Harry was towering over her. Even at her full height however, she was still a head shorter than him.

“And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, glaring up at him as green clashed with green.

“It means that you basically threw yourself at me last night,” Harry smirked, though she could tell his heart wasn’t really in it.

“Oh really? And how could you possibly know that if you don’t remember anything that happened?” she challenged.

Harry shrugged, “Since you can’t remember what happened either, you can’t prove it didn’t happen,” he shot back cheekily.

Savannah stared up at the infuriating boy before her, “You’re disgusting. I can’t believe I had sex with you.”

“I mean, you came back with me - it is my house. What does this say about you?” he grinned, obviously thinking he had won.

“It tells me that I make bad decisions when I’m drunk. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to get dressed and get out and away from you, wanker.”

“No need for wanking today,” Harry chuckled to himself as he walked over to an adjoining door that Savannah assumed led to a bathroom.

“Ugh,” she scoffed at him, leaning over to pick up her discarded bra. “I repeat… you’re disgusting.”

“If you say so!” he laughed shutting the door and allowing Savannah the small amount of privacy she needed to slip on her bra. She abandoned the search for her knickers after a couple of minutes - she couldn’t seem to locate them anywhere - but she knew that she couldn’t walk out of this apartment wearing nothing.

Glancing around the room, her eyes zeroed in on the dresser directly opposite the bed and Savannah contemplated making a not-so-wise decision. “Screw it,” she muttered marching over and carefully pulling the first drawer open - coming across nothing particularly useful.

The next few drawers revealed nothing but socks and t-shirts and she felt herself growing frustrated before she finally pulled open a drawer that revealed an entire collection of neatly folded boxers and briefs in every single colour imaginable - “c’mon, who the hell wears mustard boxers?” she grumbled to herself.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she chose a plain black pair with the tags still on and quickly pulled them on - it was either that or go commando - before stealing a quick glance around the bedroom to check if she’d left anything behind. Satisfied with her work, she headed out the door and into a corridor that opened up into a kitchen not quite as pristine as the bedroom had been last night. Huh, Savannah thought, snippets of the night flitting through her mind, bringing with them feelings she’d never quite been privy to before.

Choosing to push those disturbing thoughts aside, Savannah spotted a coffee machine sat innocently on the counter next to the sink. Almost as if she had been struck by a baseball bat, her hangover came back in full force - a dull throbbing pain at the back of her head that threatened to tear its way out of her skull. Walking - or rather - stumbling over to the front door without any coffee in her system simply seemed like an impossible feat now.

“Sod it,” she muttered pulling the dress she’d only just grabbed off the couch over her head and leaving it hitched around her hips, she made a beeline over to the coffeepot. She decided that even though she risked spending more time in the presence of a one night stand she didn’t fancy being around, a large, steaming cup of coffee would be well worth it in the end.

The noises that came along with the opening and closing of cupboards in search for coffee really weren’t helping Savannah’s headache, and with every crash and clang of pots and pans bumping against one another, she felt her frustration rising and her patience weaning.

“Where the bloody hell is the coffee? Does he drink anything other than tea?” she cursed, ducking her head into one of the lower cupboards in desperation.

“The coffee’s in the top right cupboard,” came a very entertained voice.

Savannah swore as her already pounding head bumped against the marble counter in her haste to turn around. Rubbing her temples, she looked over to see Harry with only a towel wrapped around his waist and an amused smile on his face as he eyed Savannah’s attire.

“I didn’t peg you as a thief,” he observed, nodding towards her lower body.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to read erotica,” she shot back, eyeing the Sylvia Day book she’d just spotted lying open against a fruit bowl beside her, before reaching up into the top cupboard and grabbing the coffee out.

“Not mine,” he replied, pulling out two mugs from a cupboard beside Savannah as she brewed the two of them some coffee.

“Right…”

“It’s not,” Harry insisted.

“I don’t care,” she retorted.

“It’s my mate’s girlfriend’s,” he explained anyway.

“I really don’t care, Harvey,” Savannah purposefully used the wrong name.

“It’s Harry,” he corrected, and by the tone of his voice, she could tell it had grated on his nerves.

“I still don’t care.”

“Bloody hell, my hangover’s getting worse,” he complained.

“Aw, did Harvey have too much to drink last night?” she cooed at him.

Muttering under his breath, Harry left the kitchen and disappeared from sight as he turned the corner that led to his bedroom.

Despite knowing that it was pointless, Savannah hoped he wouldn’t return until she was out of his flat. Much to her despair, he walked back out moments later - still shirtless, this time wearing a pair of low hanging sweatpants on his hips that just drew all of Savannah’s attention to the deep V-lines leading downwards. She looked away quickly before he got the chance to catch her ogling.

Just as he entered the kitchen space, the chime on the coffee machine indicated it was ready. So, without wasting a second, Savannah poured herself a cup of the steaming black beverage, instantly taking a massive slurp and burning her tongue in the process. She didn’t mind. Instead she rather welcomed the slight pain on her tongue as it briefly distracted her from the headache that was still hammering around her head.

“Oi, where’s mine?” Harry’s grating voice brought her back down to earth, and when she turned to glance at him, he had a surprisingly adorable pout on his lips. This only seemed to frustrate Savannah.

“It’s your house, pour it for yourself,” she shrugged.

His pout deepening, Harry fixed himself a cup of the coffee.

“Well, I’m done,” Savannah dropped her cup into the already overflowing sink. She glanced down at herself and blushed a little, knowing how much of a mess she probably was.

Pulling down the dress so that it wasn’t hitched so high up around her hips, she turned to Harry and opened her mouth a couple of times before settling on a simple, “goodbye.”.

“Uh, see ya around,” came Harry’s distracted reply, his thoughts occupied as he nursed his mug thoughtfully.

“Probably not,” Savannah quipped, though the words didn’t come out as rudely as she’d intended.

AN: helloooooo, it’s been well over a year and we are super duper sorry for the ridiculous wait, but it’s finally hereeeeee!! Chapter one of WUS has fnally been posted. Please let us know what you think by sending us a message, whether you’d like to see it on any other social media platforms (wattpad? AO3?)? and what you expect in the next few chapters!

Hope you guys enjoy it!!!

x Lola and Faye

#WUS #fic: WUS #wus1

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