#yes this has been bugging me since my failure to cohere to a point in the tags of the previous de post. three hours ago. :/

[keingleichgewicht]

like, ok. disco elysium is mostly about bigger things than personal morality, and it is too smart to be interested in asking whether kim and harry are "bad people," because people cannot be ontologically bad* even if being a cop is very close, and the distinction in itself is a carceral conceit, it's not worth talking about in any model worth talking about. and that's probably part of the point, and part of the point is that There Is No Ethical [PLAYTHROUGH OF DISCO ELYSIUM]; existing in a world like revachol, or ours, and getting to stay morally decent, let alone while in the kind of positions of power kim & harry inhabit, is impossible but more to the point it's also a dangerous fable. it is a dangerously incorrect way to approach the ideas that the narrative is offering you.

*or good!

& that said, insofar as disco has anything to say on personal morality, i think it's somewhere in the neighborhood of the next world mural:

it is too late for us, and it is also too late for these two mean-hearted cold-spirited, bullying old cops; we have seen too many ages of the world already, we have failed to rise too many times. it is too late for true love and it is too late for good men. it is too late to be forgiven. "you can never save anyone nor can you atone for your sins", &c, "you shall not go down twice to the same river, nor can you go home again."

WREAK HAVOC ON THE MIDDLE CLASS

it is too late to be good men. harry and kim are never going to be able to be good men, because you can't fix what they've each done to people, or the kind of trigger-happy control-hunger that leads them to bully and steal and coerce, or the various steam-kettle pressures (racialized, in kim's case) that pushed them to become these people (pressures which are unlikely to let up any time soon, either, and hence why it's so unconvincing to pretend they're ever going to stop being cops.) and yet, you know! and yet! you can't aim for "redemption" because it's a bankrupt concept, and you also cannot pretend that you can just walk away from any of these things; not in this world; maybe in the next, not in this one.

but that isn't a message of despair, any more than disco is ever doing a message of despair! be vigilant i love you. you can go home again, as long as you understand that home is a place where you have never been. kim and harry are really not the point although by definition it is true for them as well -- but IS THERE A CHANCE FOR THEM TO GET BETTER? is functionally equivalent to asking IS THERE A CHANCE FOR ANY OF US TO GET BETTER? or even more fundamentally WILL THE RETOUR EVER COME? and the only answer disco has for us on this front is, i don't know, well will it???

[nagalias-mindscape]

Can’t sleep. Must write. So, have a(two) little blurb(s) from the fanfic I’m writing. Except it’s currently all crack spin offs like Iceberg meeting the Scarlet King (which may actually become canon. I don’t know, yet. Same with this thing, depending. I really haven’t decided.)

This one is two snippets for Iceberg’s (second) meeting with 682. This is unedited because it’s 2:45 AM for me and I’m too tired to make it pretty and fancy and coherent. Yucky tired editing, boo-hiss!

Iceberg knew that 682 could talk, but he was not expecting the voice. Deep and gravelly. Hoarse. Something about it faintly echoed in the back of Icebergs head, filling him with a feeling of disjointed dread. Of the first dregs of hopelessness mixed with the beginning embers of fury, with an undertone of something physically unpleasant. Like bugs crawling over every inch of his skin. Like trying to breathe through heavy wool.

Iceberg ignored it much like he ignored most of his problems and pulled on his anomaly to be rid of the unnatural feeling. Why bother with the useless distractions when he could instead ignore it simply by making it disappear? It perhaps wasn’t the most healthy of options and Dr. Glass was going to give Iceberg that very pointed frowning glare of his when he learned of this, but he could afford the intentional misuse of his anomaly for this meeting if it kept him from feeling weird things and turning tail.

Wouldn’t that just be embarrassing- turning tail on a meeting he had requested. He really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Yes… I remember you.” 682 seemed… for the lack of a better word, amused. “Has the Foundation come to try another useless attempt at ending my existence? Ha!” 682 barked out a laugh, and Iceberg felt a sea of something molten momentarily flood his senses before it was hungrily devoured by the ever-growing abyssal cavity of ice inside of him. “As amusing as it is, surely even they grow tired of all the failures?”

“I imagine so,” Iceberg nodded his head, “but I’m not here to kill you. I actually wanted to talk if you were up for it.”

682 made a sound that was like a mix of a wheezing laugh and distained huff. It would have been impressive if not for the sneering growl that came after it and the quicker-than-a-blink lunge that followed immediately afterwards.

Iceberg, being the snow-apocalypse poorly bound in human flesh that he is, simply let his senses expand and melded into the abyssal cold that has been clawing at his existence ever since he obtained his anomalous abilities. The literal explosion of snow, ice, and cold had only hurt the initial first time he’d done this, but now it was almost as simple as breathing for him.

(Iceberg still refused to tell people how he had learned to do this or that he’d literally blown himself up the first time and 408 had a feast on what little remained of his blood and guts. He had not expected to lose a bet to 408, much less three times in a row. For all that it was humiliating to have a hive-mind of butterflies try to teach him, Iceberg couldn’t deny that they had done a phenomenal job. That it was the stepping stone towards maybe finally being able to repay Dr. Bright for all he’d done for him was just a bonus, really.)

(Also, 408 were chatterboxes when you didn’t have to rely on their visual communication skills. How Dr. Kondraki could stand being in contact with them twenty four hours, seven days a week, was a mystery to Iceberg, but he was getting off topic.)

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

Idly, he noticed that he had fallen over and was now laying in the snow alongside 682, who was giving him a weird look. Ultimately he ignored it, left himself where he was, and muttered to himself still loud enough for 682 but maybe not loud enough for the people in the observation chamber. Hopefully safe from his stupidity.

“Yeah, okay. Fair, life can be painful and unfair and a right bitch. But, like, if you’re willing to cut down on the murder thing the Foundation will probably be willing to help make everything stop… hurting. We just need a direction to go in. We can’t help unless you’re willing to work with us and talk.”

“What makes you think you understand, worm?”

“I don’t- I’m not you.” Iceberg huffed out, turning himself so he was flat on his back and staring at the brightly-lit ceiling of the containment chamber instead of 682’s lower mandible. “But here you are, not murdering me outright for burying you in snow. Which, from observation of your past interactions with things, indicates you don’t hate it outright.

682 growled again, but nothing extra surged forth to uncomfortably greet him this time, and it turned to bury its head in the snow that had built up around it. That was fine with Iceberg, he could wait. He knew patience, despite popular opinion. Just didn’t like to exercise it under normal circumstances. Normal circumstances these were not.

Instead, he took a leap of faith and closed his eyes. Allowed himself to be slowly buried under the still falling snow alongside 682. Allowed himself to be weak and undefended right next to a being who could- and possibly would- attempt to murder him again once it hit some imaginary barrier on its own patience.

Iceberg simply kept his eyes closed and allowed a small smile to grace his lips when he heard 682 make some kind of snort-huff sound and then shift to curl up around him.

Proof that his foolish gamble was paying off for the time being. In five minutes from now, who knew. Certainly not him, but he could just become literal snow if 682 tried to attack him once again.

[1dffexchange]

One Thing Lead to Another

To: Emma @ninetyfovr​

From: Vanessa @halfwaygones​

Summary: Ellie Frost might have a secret crush on Harry Styles, but it’s not like she ever expected him to reciprocate the feeling. In fact, she was completely fine with being alone. Her mom always did say man equal trouble - and Harry Styles should come with a warning sign.

a story about slow burn crushes, trust issues and how a phone switch can bring two people together

O C T O B E R

I have a little bit of a crush on Harry Styles. I was brought to that conclusion on a bright sunny day about a year ago, when I couldn’t stop smiling after he left. I could lie to you about it, as I do to my friend Amy, who asks me about him every two days. But I reckon we should make that clear from the start.

It isn’t like I planned it. I swear it just happened. In fact, if we’re going to blame someone, we should blame him. The guy is just too nice – and handsome – for his own good. Also, it was him who walked into Memory Lane like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he had been coming into this very vintage store since he was little and was just making yet another visit.

Let me tell something, he hadn’t. Because if he had, I’d known. And if I knew, I wouldn’t have been taken by surprise and acted like a fool.

Memory Lane is my aunt’s pride and joy. She opened the store when she was thirty years old, with a toddler to care for and no job in sight. Even though I’m not exactly great at sharing my feelings, I’ve always admired her for having the courage to do something by herself, with no guarantee it would work out and, if we’re honest, a very high risk of failure. Fortunately, she was successful and now, twenty years later, she’s thrilled to have me help out on afternoons so she can take care of her grandson, Max (who’s the happiest and cutest child in earth and, also, my godson).

Right. Back to Harry.

What I mean is, if he had been coming in, my aunt would’ve told me. She’s a huge X Factor fan and has known about him since he was on it. Also, Danny Jones from McFLY once came in and she talked about that day for months, repeating over and over again how awesome it was that her store had the same name as one of their songs. I already knew that, as my first concert was one of theirs, so I just pretended to be surprised for as long as I could to keep her enthusiasm going. The point is, she would have raved about it and I would have been prepared.

Instead, on that rainy day in early 2016, I had my nose buried in a book and a pencil pressed hard to my forehead (I know that for sure because that’s what I do when I’m one-hundred percent focused on my studying) for about fifteen minutes before I realized there was someone else in the store. Granted, I only noticed because he cleared his throat to get my attention. When I looked up, he was closer than expected and I was startled for a second, which resulted in a frightened little jump, an oh sound, and my pencil falling on the floor with a loud thud. Harry was too nice to laugh at me, apologizing instead for being too quiet (that’s what I mean when I say nice), and I probably blushed as red as humanly possible. I don’t even think my reaction had anything to do with his celebrity status. No, it was honestly because he was the most gorgeous human being I had ever laid my poor eyes on and, thus, I wasn’t prepared for the impact.

Oblivious to my racing heart, Harry proceeded to ask me if we happened to have any old Rolling Stones tour t-shirts and I could have cried when I told him we didn’t. He didn’t seem too bothered, though, and proceeded to wander around the store, telling me one of his friends had recommended Memory Lane and he was glad they did. I probably muttered something affirmative (which I do not have any memory of) and he found a few knick knacks to buy. That day, he said goodbye with a smile and I probably didn’t say a coherent sentence until the day after.

That was how my little infatuation began and, to be honest, I didn’t even notice until I realized I was looking forward to seeing him again. A few months later, after following him on Instagram and half believing he wouldn’t ever come back, I found a t-shirt from The Rolling Stones 1975’s tour of the americas and saved it religiously anyway, just in case.

With a recent haircut, Harry came back to Memory Lane five months later, when my hope had long died.

I should have known by then, that he keeps coming back when I least expect him to.

&&

Today’s not a good day.

It all started with a pink sweater. I’m not a wear pink on wednesdays kind of girl, but when October 3rd falls on a Wednesday, how can you not make it a thing? Even if only to instagram it and make your little cousin think you’re the coolest (which she definitely already thinks, so I need to keep it up). My baby pink sweater was, then, set to be worn since last week - it was planned, it was decided, it was like the rest of my wardrobe didn’t even exist. So, when I put it on this morning and saw the huge stain on my left sleeve, I wanted to cry. I honestly still don’t know how it got there.

Then, with my red sweater on and ready to leave the flat, my weather app told me the probability of rain was 5%. Now, I think you can agree when I say that’s low - the leave-the-umbrella-home kind of low. Unfortunately, my blonde hair was soaked and sticking to my face before I even got to the subway.

Finally, when I got home from my thesis meeting, more than ready to take a warm bath, the first thing I noticed was Honey - the little puppy I got not even a month ago - hadn’t ran to me. She was not in her grey bed next to the couch (her usual spot) and her food was still in her bowl (a huge warning sign). With my heart threatening to jump out of my chest, I found her curled on my side of bed, whining when she spotted me on the door. Now, maybe she was just having an off day like me, but she hadn’t been acting like her playful self the night before either. With a sigh, I called my aunt and asked if I could take the puppy with me to the store, promising she would behave nicely. If I’m completely honest, I don’t think she was thrilled - but she said yes nevertheless.

¨

Now, a few hours later, I let out a tired breath, thanking God I’m fifteen minutes away from closing up. I’m still in a bit of a mood since this morning, so having to make small talk to each client this afternoon tired me down more than any other day. It also doesn’t help that Memory Lane is now a stopping spot for every damn tourist. Truth is, I only have myself to blame and, even though I normally beam with pride, today it makes me even madder. Between decorating the store in a new style every month and creating the most aesthetically pleasing Instagram for it (it had a few thousand followers within a couple of weeks and they’re still rapidly growing), the number of customers keeps on increasing.

I’m organizing a pile of books in the front when Honey whimpers from the back room where I left her with a toy. She’s been like this all afternoon, so I stop what I’m doing (once more) and go behind the counter, opening up the door that leads to a tiny office and letting her come to me. She takes a few seconds but then decides to come out. Recognizing I’m probably done for the day, I kneel so I can reach my dog properly, petting her head softly. “What’s going on with you, love?” I whisper, letting her crawl into my lap for a cuddle. I let out a giggle, deciding it’s probably better to finish the book pile after closing up for the day anyway.

Needless to say, I’m less than pleased when I hear the door open a few minutes later.

I let them wander around for a bit as I need to recharge enough energy to put yet another smile on my face. Despite feeling irritated towards anything that moves, I’m also feeling worry as I’ve never felt before. This new-found responsibility I have for this tiny being in my lap was overwhelming from the start but seeing her slightly sick is not doing wonders for my well-being either. I just want to go to the vet and put all my worries to rest.

I sigh, rubbing her belly one last time. “C’mon now, I’ll be with you in a second.” I whisper, giving her a little kiss and placing her down. She turns her face slightly to the left as if she’s begging me not to go. 

Damn dog.

It takes all in me to take my eyes off her soft golden hair - I look up, only to see a grinning face peeking through the counter.

“God, you scared me,” I hiss, taking my right hand to my chest. “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this!”

“Sorry, sorry” Harry damn Styles chuckles, pausing as I get myself on my feet. Wearing a grey sweater and an orange beanie on his head, he leans on the counter carelessly, as if he’s been in that spot his whole life (while I know for a fact he hasn’t visited us for a few months). He has an amused expression on and, just like that, I feel my heartbeat increase its pace. “I was wondering where you were and then I heard you - I see you finally got yourself a puppy!” He recalls a previous conversation, when I mentioned I was thinking about getting a dog. I smile and we both look at the little one, now sitting and looking up to both of us.

“Yes, I got her a few weeks ago.” I smile, thinking back on the day I took her home with me; my house is a lot less lonely now I have her there with me. “She’s not even three months old. Do you want to meet her?”

“Of course,” Harry drops his phone on the counter and makes his way around it quickly. “What’s her name?”

“Honey.” I grin, kneeling down next to him. “Honey, this is Harry - he’s nice so please don’t bite him.”

Harry laughs and takes her in his arms. Honey immediately lies her head on his leg and closes her eyes, sighing softly when Harry pets her head. “Uh, are you sure she bites?”

“I know it’s hard to believe when she’s like that,” I acknowledge my dog’s perfect behaviour. I blame it on whatever’s bugging her lately, because I know for sure that, on a normal day, she’d be biting on his hand by now. “But lets just say her definition of playing and biting is still a little mixed up. She does like to cuddle in the evenings, though, which is great.”

“I mean, it’s hard to imagine her biting me when she’s like this.” Harry laughs, adjusting himself so he’s sitting with his back to the wall. In this new position, he can face me properly. “Is it like you imagined? You seemed really excited last time we talked.”

“It’s better,” I murmur, adjusting my own back so it hits the wooden door behind me. “She makes great company.”

“I imagine she does.” Harry agrees. “My sister has a cat. She told me it made her house feel more like a home.”

“I agree, especially because I’m here by myself. What ‘bout you? Ever thought of getting a pet?”

“I think about it sometimes,” he answers, dropping his eyes to Honey for a second. “It’d probably be nice. But I travel a lot, it wouldn’t be the best.”

“Oh,” I suddenly remember who I’m talking to. “Yeah.”

I stop there, though, because even though we’re sitting on this floor and he’s petting my dog, I wouldn’t say Harry and I are friends and I certainly don’t feel comfortable in exploring the restrictions his job imposes on him.

He’s always been nice, but we only got talking by his third visit to the store and that was because my aunt was here. I was too startled on his first visit and, then, too shy on his second. But my aunt’s above his charm, so she rapidly pulled him into an hour conversation about his favourite old items to collect, Nick Grimshaw (I told you she’s aware of Harry) and the good things that come from fame. Fortunately, a few minutes in, I broke out of my shell and was able to put my two cents in their discussion, so Harry learned a few things about me too (how I moved to London in 2014 and how I’m studying Interior Design).

My aunt was obviously an ice breaker and, for that, I’m thankful. The fourth time, Harry started the conversation asking me more about my aunt and how the store started; we spent a good half an hour talking about her. By then, I was felt confident enough to ask him how he had been doing – he was on tour (in fact, he had done a show in London the night before) and he was tired, but it was all good. He returned the favour and I told him the course was doing my head in but it’d all be fine. His last visit had been three months ago. After I broke out of my shell again, we had chatted about the tv series we’d been watching and I mentioned my desire to have a puppy.

So, yes, we’ve had conversations about life in general, but we aren’t friends.

“Anyway,” I change the subject; after all, my aunt doesn’t pay me to sit on the floor with the customers. “I’m sure you didn’t come in just to meet my puppy. What’re you looking for today?”

“Hm, I was just passing by and decided to look around.” He gets himself up, with Honey now curled up in his arm, and shows me what he brought to the counter. I didn’t even notice he had something else with him. “You outdid yourself this time, Ellie.”

“Oh, I see you’ve found it!” I grin, looking at the Stevie Nicks shirt I saved up two weeks after he last visited. We kind of have a secret hiding place, where I put the stuff I save him and he goes there to find them (my aunt probably knows about it too, but since it technically is still up for sale, she hasn’t said anything). “It’s got a few holes on it, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“You were right, I don’t.” He states, examining it for a few seconds. I can see his dimple and it’s actually improving my mood a little. “I really thought I was going to catch you off guard!”

“Truth is, I wasn’t expecting you for another few months,” I agree. “but I also like to be prepared. It’s been there for a while now.”

“Thank you.” I smile back at him when he curls his lips upwards. He drops the shirt on the counter again, still admiring it. “This is really great.”

“No need to thank me.” I shrug with ease. “My aunt, however, should give me a raise. I keep making the customers happy.”

“Oh, you do this for everyone, then?”

He’s teasing. I know he is. I roll my eyes and grin, but I also think I’m blushing a little and I hope to God he doesn’t notice. “Don’t be jealous, Harry.”

“To think I believed I was special.” Harry snickers, bending down his head to whisper something to Honey. I can’t catch exactly what he says, but it sounds a lot like “We both know she’s lying, don’t we?”.

“Nope, this store is full of hiding spots. That’s the main job here, keeping track of which is which.” I tease and he gets it, because he shakes his head and laughs.

I realize I keep smiling when he turns around and wanders around the store, one arm with Honey in it and a finger pickering on his lower lip. I decide I better make myself useful and go towards the book pile I was arranging before.

“My friend sent me your Instagram a while ago,” Harry comments from his spot, where he is admiring a decorative bicycle. “I had already noticed the store’s layout is always different, but I didn’t realize you guys do it monthly. Is it you?”

“Yeah,” I look up, catching his eye. “it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Is it not anymore, then?”

I shrug. Truth be told, I love this store like it is my own but it’s hard to come up with new layouts every month when you have a considerable amount of course work to do. “It’s still exciting but it’s not as easy to conciliate with school as it was before. It’ll be even harder when I start my internship next year.”

“I’m sure Elena will understand.” He refers to my aunt. “If it means anything, you’re doing a great job. It definitely keeps people interested.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

“I was talking to my friend the other day and we both agree this is one of the best vintage stores in London,” He adds. “Your aunt just has the best eye.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that on.” I nod, agreeing with his point.

“She once told me she makes a lot of buying trips, does she still do that?”

I nod. “Yeah, she’ll just look out for the most random stuff and bring it back to England.”

“That’s so cool.”

Honey whimpers on his arms, interrupting our conversation, and I bite my lip, immediately feeling my lips turn into a frown. Harry looks down at her and then looks at me. “I don’t think she’s been feeling alright today.” I offer with a sad smile. “Might have to visit the vet, actually.”

He looks down at his watch quickly. “Is it still open?”

“It closes at eight. It’s not even seven yet, right?” I confirm the time on my phone. I realize there’s two white iPhones with pink cases on the counter and I bring mine a little to the side (I also smile because hey, we both have great taste).

“It’s past your closing time, isn’t it? ’m the worst.” He seems to decide he won’t look for anything else this evening, coming back towards the counter and handing me the t-shirt. “I’ll take this, then. I’ll come back another day for more.”

“You can look around now, I don’t mind.”

“No, of course not. You have to go check out what’s happening with this little babe,” I accept Honey when he hands her over to me so he can find his wallet. “That’s the priority here.”

“I do.” I keep her in my arms and give Harry his bag, making sure I don’t need to give him any change. “Thank you.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he nods to the bag, a smile on his face. “Well, I’m staying in England for a bit so I’ll see you soon, Ellie.” He pets Honey on her forehead on last time and goes to the door. “Oh, bye Honey.” He turns as if he can’t believe he forgot the other being in the room, waving slightly.

“Bye Harry.” I say in a weird voice, saying goodbye with Honey’s paw.

Harry laughs before closing the door behind him.

¨

I know something’s wrong when my thumb doesn’t immediately unlock my phone after I finish tidying everything up. I’m distracted with Honey, though, so it takes me an extra couple of seconds to realize the screensaver I’m looking at isn’t mine. Instead of the picture I took last Sunday of my puppy with a cute pink bandana on, I’m staring at Harry Styles holding a baby.

My mind goes blank for a second before realization hits me - Harry just took the wrong phone.

I press my thumb again, as if this phone will miraculously turn back into mine. What does one do in this situation? I run towards the front door, even though Harry has been gone for, at least, fifteen minutes. I look to both sides of the street, looking for a black Range Rover (he had been driving one last time I saw him). Unsurprisingly, I don’t see anything, so I go back inside.

The phone is locked, but I can see he has his data turned on, so I try calling Siri out and, fortunately, she responds. Unlike all the other times I’ve talked to Siri, I go straight to business. I don’t remember if Siri calls a number if you dictate it, but I try it anyway and, within seconds, I’m ringing myself.

I wait for a few seconds before someone picks up. “’ello?” It’s him.

“Harry?” I grab the phone with both hands. “Uh, it’s Ellie, from Memory Lane!” I add, just in case he needs the reference. “I think- I think we just switched phones?”

“We did?” He seems confused. He probably didn’t use his phone until now, and he wouldn’t have notice he has the wrong phone with an incoming call since I never changed the iPhone’s predefined ringtone.

“I noticed we had the same case earlier so I moved my phone closer to the cash register but, uh, I guess you didn’t notice and grabbed mine instead of yours.” I try to explain, even though he might think I did it on purpose. I mean, could he think that? Did he know me enough to know I would never do something like that? “I was going to call the vet and noticed this wasn’t my screensaver.”

“I have two phones, I use the pink one for work stuff – I was talking to a producer when I came into the store.” I think he’s relieving his steps as a way of understanding how this could have happened. “How are you calling me- well, I mean, you, right now?”

“I used Siri to call my number.” I explain. “Smart, eh?”

He laughs. “Indeed. I guess you need your phone back?”

I’m nodding even though he can’t see me. “Please tell me you’re still close?”

He pauses and I just know he’s not anywhere near Memory Lane anymore. “Actually… I’m heading home to Holmes Chapel for a week or two.” What? I try to conceal my feelings, but I swear he notices a change in my breathing because he rushes to calm me. “I could drive back but I still have three hours to go, mum would probably be asleep by the time I got there.” He seems to stop to think while I nervously bite my nails. “Hm, would you mind using mine for a bit, maybe?”

“But- what about you?”

“I have two, I won’t need that one. I’ll keep yours safely and, since I’m the one halfway to Manchester now, you’ll use mine? Does that sound okay to you?”

“I mean… that’s fine, yeah, but- are you sure you’re okay with me going through your phone? I mean, ‘m not going to snoop around but I’d still be using it.”

“I have some pictures in there and, yeah, some song ideas… hm, I think the apps are locked for precaution.” He makes a pause, as if he’s just now thinking of the implications that come from me using his phone. “I’ll ask you not to listen. But I believe I know you enough to know you won’t be selling those to tabloids, even if you do listen to them. So, do you want my passcode or not?”

“Are you sure?” I ask again because this phone suddenly feels like it weights five extra pounds. “I can drive up there to get mine, if you want.”

“You’re insane,” he shuts my idea down right away. “That’d take you all night. You’re going to put my passcode in, call your vet and use my phone for a few days, alright?”

I consider asking again if he’s sure, but I need the phone and he doesn’t seem keen on turning back to sort this all out. So I hang up and type the four zeros he tells me to. I’m met with yet another picture, this time of a crowd.

I sigh, hoping to God Amy does not text me before I do. She asks on a daily basis if Harry’s come over and, even though I laugh each time and tell her to bugger off, I don’t want him to see that. Then again, I also don’t want Amy to know I have Harry’s phone as she would make it a thing.

I don’t want this to be a thing.

So, I cross my fingers and hope for the best.

&&

I’m snuggled up on my couch with Honey’s nose on my neck when the phone buzzes on the coffee table where I deliberately put it. I decided over dinner that distance was best. Even though I logged off his Whatsapp without even a little glimpse at any of his conversations (and, let me tell you, he had been talking to Chris Martin that morning), as well as his Instagram and e-mail, and switched them all up to mine, there’s still some dangerous stuff on that device I’m not ready to see.

For instance, the gallery. Eventually, I’ll have to take a photo and, then, go to the album to see it. The thing is, I’m afraid there’ll be all kinds of personal photos. So right now, distance is best. It’s cute to have a crush when you don’t know the person; it gets weird when you suddenly are close to them.

Except now it’s buzzing and I have to check if it’s something important. Honey’s asleep on me so I try not to move too much while I gather it from the white surface.

Hiiiii, did you make it to the vet? - H

Now, the plan was to get away from him. Not to start texting. I look up to the ceiling as if asking God why is this happening to me. He could test me all He wanted, though, because when I make my mind up, I generally act accordingly – and this crush on Harry has to end tonight.

Hi. Yes, I have! It’s an otitis in a very early stage, she’ll be fine in a few days

That’s great! You must be relieved, uh?

Yes!!

Did I look as worried as I felt?

Probably more, I thought you were gonna start crying when she cried

I’m sorry

She’s like my baby, i can’t deal with her being sick

Hopefully she’ll be fine soon

The vet said to give it a week max

You got home safe, then?

Yeah, thanks. Just sitting with my mom now

That must be nice!

Def feels good to be back for a bit

A friend of yours texted you earlier

Do you want me to turn your phone off?

Amy? I type as I close my eyes in fear.

That’s her

She asked “Did he come in today?”

Oh, I’m sorry

Turn the phone off please

Now

Hahaha ok, it’s done

So… was that important?

Were you waiting for someone?

No, not really

Anyway, I’m going to bed now

g’night harry!

Night Ellie x

&&

I’m watching last night’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy when the phone buzzes next to me. Honey lifts her head slightly, eyeing me before giving up and going back to resting it on my leg. She’s much better now, which makes me much more relaxed to leave her alone when I go to work.

I already suspect it to be Harry, since he’s been texting me every day. Initially, he’d ask me about Honey and then the conversation progressed from that. However, it has been a week and yesterday I told him she was biting me every morning which had to mean she was completely fine so, today, he opted to ask if my thesis had been delivered on time (I’ve been stressing during the past week and it inevitably came up during our conversations) and then we talked during the day about what we were doing (he was basically living on his mom’s couch while I made small talk with foreign customers).

I don’t expect him to send two pictures, though. I zoom in the first, trying to make sense of the scrabble board I’m seeing. It was obviously taken in a second so no one would notice and I can see two blurry arms I bet belong to his mother and a hand full of rings that, judging by the perfectly manicured nails, also belongs to a woman. The second photo, naturally, are his remaining letters. They come with a Help me!!!! underneath.

I can practically hear him scream it and I let out a laugh. Honey lifts her head again and looks up at me. “Don’t look at me like that.” I eye her, petting her head for a second as I think how am I supposed to help my new found friend.

QUETZALS, I finally offer a word. If anyone asks, it’s the national bird of Guatemala

Thx

You’re a genius

No, i simply know how to use the internet

But thanks

I’m flattered you decided to ask me instead of googling it

Do you think i’m that smart?

Smarter than me yeah

You wrote sign of the times, that’s pretty smart

Ahh, thanks

Didn’t know you listened to any of my songs

Eh, just that one really

Liar

I caught you and now you don’t want to admit it

Excuse me

You haven’t ‘caught me’, i TOLD you

Also, focus on your game

I already won

My sister’s fuming

I love it

Ahahah, you’re something else, Styles

Thank you?

&&

It’s been two weeks since we’ve swapped phones. Harry texted this morning informing me he left Holmes Chapel, bringing my phone with him (which comes in handy since I’ve ran out of excuses on why I can only speak with my mom via Whatsapp and Facebook).

It’s ten to six p.m. and Harry’s nowhere to be seen. I look at my watch and sigh. I’ve been at Memory Lane since this morning and I’m dying to get out for fresh air. I’ve cleaned all that I had to clean and organized all that was out of place. I’m ready to go, but I can’t because he’s yet to make an appearance.

My aunt said I was in a weird mood this morning. I didn’t want to agree with her, but the truth is I’m finding it hard to cope with the stress that rushed over me when I delivered my course thesis last week. I’m an over-thinker, so all I do while at home is think about its presentation and how my upcoming internship is going to be like. That’s why I came in earlier to the store today (and why I’ll probably come tomorrow).

I’m applying my ‘oh yeah’ chapstick as my lips are slightly chapped due to the cold weather outside (though the slogan is ‘your daily dose of happiness’, so I’m also counting on that), when Harry decides to walk in.

“Hi!” he grins as soon as he spots me. His eyes linger for an extra second on the melon chapstick in my hand and then on my lips, settling for my light eyes as he steps towards me with open arms. I accept the quick hug he offers, noticing for the first time just how close in height we are. “All good?”

“Yes,” I nod as I take a step back. Before we go any further, however, I immediately hold out my hand suggestively. “Now, give me my phone back.”

“Jeez,” He laughs. “For a second I thought you were happy to see me.”

“I am! But I’m also dying to have my own apps and pictures back!”

“Here.” He takes it from his jacket’s pocket and places it on my open palm. “Now, mine.”

I run to the counter and give him his. “I’ve deleted all the pictures I took after I e-mailed them to me. Which were majorly of Honey so it’s really your loss.”

“There’s no doubt there.” I grin, turning my phone on as he talks. I think he’s doing the same until I notice him moving to the side, “Can I have a look around?”

“Of course,” I nod. “I think I’m going to close up anyway, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

He’s looking at a few books as I turn the open sign to closed. Then, I go up to the counter and hop on it, scrolling through Honey’s photos from the last month. Sometimes I like to go through them because she was the cutest puppy when I got her. I remember a few minutes later to check on the few texts I received before I could let people know not to text me. However, I want to dig a hole and bury myself in there when I read the very first one: Amy’s text from October 3rd.

She didn’t ask me if he had come in. She texted if Harry had come in.

He read that.

I still don’t know what to do when he materializes in front of me.

“Everything alright?” I want to slap the cute frown from his face. That probably wouldn’t make me feel better but if he hadn’t lied to me, I would have sorted this mess out two weeks ago, from a distance.

“Yes, yes,” I desperately try to think of something to get his focus off of me, as I’m probably as red as an eight year old’s cheeks after being left alone with their mother’s blush. “Uh, you’re not going to look in your spot?”

He looks confused for a bit but decides to overlook my sudden nervousness. “I thought you didn’t have time to get me anything, I was trying to make you a favour!”

“I told you I like to be prepared!” I hop off the counter, almost falling on top of him on the process. He holds his hands out but I walk right past them. “I feel like this one is a big risk, though, so you can tell me the truth.”

Instead of answering me, he walks right to the corner of the store and gets on one knee to open up the desk door (my aunt will never sell that desk as she loves it so much, so I knew that was the safest thing to hide Harry’s stuff in).

“It barely fit there.” I comment as he takes the old vinyl player out. “The previous owner told us it still works, but I think it’s pretty cool even if you use it as a piece of decoration.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to lose you next January,” Harry jokes after a moment, even though I think he’s only half joking. He knows I’m going to start my internship and my hours at Memory Lane are going to drop enormously. “Look what I’m gonna be losing!”

“I’ll still be in on weekends, probably. I’ll keep hiding the good stuff and you’ll find them eventually – you just won’t see me.” I shrug. “I’ll tell you something, I almost stole that one for me.”

“Oh?” He seems surprised. “You can have it, if you want.”

“No, no.” I shake my head. “I have two already – a vintage one I got from my grandad and a recent one. That’s why I thought I’d save it for the next best person. You.”

“Aw, thank you.” He smiles big. “Also, going back to what you said - we’re friends now, so I don’t need to come up here to see you anymore. Right?” He asks as he takes the record player to the counter.

I open my mouth to say yes but I end up nodding instead. Two weeks ago, I was hoping he’d come in before January so I could see him one last time and kiss my crush goodbye. Now, an accidental phone swap after, we’re friends (and I still need to kiss that crush goodbye, preferably as quickly as possible).

I close up the cash register once he’s paid. “Do you, hm, want to grab a coffee, maybe?”

A part of me thinks I’ve heard him wrong, so I turn my head to face him. He’s now holding the record player effortlessly, his eyes locked on me as he waits for my answer. My mind goes back to that text and I wonder why he’s asking me out, or even calling me a friend. Still, I don’t feel like going home when I can spend more time with him.

“Yeah, sure.” I put the jacket on and grab my handbag. “Go ahead, I have to turn off the lights.” He does what I tell him, waiting by the door until I get there and lock everything up. “Where do you want to go?”

“My car, for starters. I need to put this bad boy on my trunk.”

“That makes sense.”

I walk behind him as he crosses the street to get to a grey Audi parked a few meters down. “Damn it, I can’t get the key while holding this.”

“Do you have them in your pocket?” I offer my help, signalling to his jacket’s left pocket (where I saw him put his wallet). “This one?” I sign to the right one when he shakes his head.

“Uh, my jeans.”

I swallow before I drag my eyes to his own. He doesn’t look bothered. In fact, he turns a little so I can access his bottom better. I’m probably two shades darker when I lift his (heavy) jacket and dig his keys out as swiftly as I can.

I mean, I barely touched his butt.

“Open the truck, please.” I do as I’m told while pretending he can’t notice my flamed cheeks. It’s a curse I’ve had to deal with since I was a child but I don’t think it’ll ever stop being awkward, so I use my long hair as a sort of shield. Within a minute, his hands are free and he’s taken the keys from my hands. “So, where do you want to go?”

“You choose.”

We let a comfortable silence settle as we walk side by side on the sidewalk. I point to two coffee shops but Harry shakes his head both times, so we end up walking for about ten minutes. I don’t know if he has a specific one in mind or if he’s just looking for a quiet space, but I’m enjoying the company so I don’t complain.

I’m thinking how I’m feeling much better since he’s appeared on the store when Harry suddenly holds my arm and points to the other side of the road. We both cross the street and I sigh when we’re taken by the warmth of the coffee shop he’s chosen.

“I made you walk quite a bit in the cold.” Even though he’s grinning, I can see the apology. “There’s just too many people everywhere.”

“That usually happens in London, yes.” I grin as I follow him to a booth in the back. “I get it, though. It’s fine.”

“Thank you.”

A waitress comes to us and I order a hot chocolate and a muffin, while Harry asks for a water.

“Didn’t you ask me out for coffee?”

“Didn’t you order a hot chocolate?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” I explain. “But hot chocolate’s acceptable. Water? Not so much.”

“Hey, don’t bully me!”

“I’m not bullying you. But I can’t believe you just asked for water.”

“Be nice to me!”

“I’m not being mean!” I laugh and he opens a big smile, shaking his head as if I’m being impossible. “Alright, let’s move on.”

“So, how’s Honey?”

“She’s great, I took her for a little walk this morning and she jumped in all the leaves she could find.”

The waiter comes back with our requests and I eagerly accept my hot chocolate. I’m sipping to test the temperature when I notice he has his phone directed up at my face. “What’re you doing?”

“I like to have pictures in my contacts,” he shrugs, turning his phone to me so I can see the picture he took. Though the mug is hiding my lips and part of my nose, the picture captures how my eyes are shinning under the lamp above us and I think my rosy cheeks give me a little more life. “You look really nice.”

My lips curve upwards and I thank him, tucking the shorter ends of my hair behind my ears. I’ve cut it a few weeks ago, thinking long bangs looked cute, but now I don’t think it’s worth it, since they keep getting in my face every. I don’t think I’m cutting them again soon.

I drink a little more, as he messes with his phone (I assume he’s setting my picture up), thinking back to the damn text Amy’s sent. I don’t want to, but I feel like I should address the issue.

“Harry?” My voice comes out low but he looks up from his phone. “Uh, I’ve read Amy’s text.” I confess, looking down at my muffin as I speak the next words. “I know she mentioned your name, not a ‘he’. I feel like I should explain that.”

“You don’t.”

“No, I do- I do.” I insist. It’s not like I want to have this conversation. But I also don’t want him to think I had this master plan to hang out with him. “Like, I know it must sound pretty bad. We swapped phones even though I noticed we had the same case and then my friend asks about you. But it’s not like that,” he seems like he wants to comment but I stop him. “I’ve told her about you once. You were a guest on the Graham Norton’s show and she said something about all celebrities being asses and I mentioned you were nice. Well, I think she misunderstood what I meant because she now believes I’m in love with you and asks me every day if you’ve come in.” Harry’s laughing before I can finish. “I’m serious, it’s not funny!”

“She thinks you’re in love with me because you said I was nice?”

“Well, I mean, that’s partly my fault.” I’m probably as pink as they come, even though he’s clearly finding it all hilarious. “I might have said you were handsome, ok? And like, I never comment on guys. Ever. So she took it the wrong way.”

“You don’t ever comment on guys, but you said I’m handsome?” His grin only gets bigger. I don’t know how I got myself in this position but I want out. “I’m flattered, Ellie Frost.”

“Oh God.” I hide my face on my hands.

&&

Do you have plans for tomorrow?

Yes, walking honey and watching netflix. Why?

Can I join?

On the dog walk or the netflix session?

Both?

We could also squeeze lunch in between

Does that sound good to you?

&&

I’m putting my sneakers on when the bell buzzes. Before I can get up from the couch, Honey’s running towards the door barking. I laugh, still amused even if she does it every time. With one bare foot, I open up the building door and take the little time I have left to put the other shoe on. The bell’s buzzing again just when I’m coming back from getting Honey’s leash from its drawer.

Harry’s on the other side of the door, black shorts with black tights underneath and a grey hoodie. You’d think we’re dressed to jog instead of walking an almost four-month-old puppy, as I’m in a pair of leggings and a hoodie myself, but I guess we both opted for comfortable.

Not like I’d agree to go for a jog. My body may seem athletic, but it’s all down to my metabolism. I’m really more of a couch potato rather than a gym rat.

“Hello there.” I greet him with a brief hug, stepping aside so he can come in for a moment. “I’m sorry the house’s a bit of a mess, as you can see, someone’s excited,” I point to the tiny one, still barking, and Harry laughs. “She’s been like that since I got up. She’s used to going out right after I have breakfast so she’s passed her time by getting all her toys out as I put them away.” He gets down to pet her as I complain, quickly realizing she’s not the same puppy he met a few weeks ago, running around instead of letting him hold her. I point it out as I grab two bottles of water from the cabinet. “See? Maybe you’ll get lucky later.”

“She’ll be licking my face by lunchtime.” He sounds confident so I don’t doubt it. I notice he’s given up, though, opting to look around the kitchen and living room instead (it’s actually one big room divided into two areas). “Your flat’s amazing.”

“Thanks! It was my grandparents’ but I’ve redecorated since I moved. This is basically it, there’s just my room and the bathroom that way,” I point towards the door that leads to the hallway, noticing after that he’s stopped to stare at the shelves above my TV cabinet. “Those are my vinyl records.” I note, pointing at them.

He makes his way towards it, so he has a better look. “This is amazing.”

“Thank you! I told you before I have two vinyl players,” I remind him. “My grandparents have a huge collection and I’ve always liked how they look, so I started my own. My grandpa gave me a few over the years, though. Like this one.” I grab an old Fleetwood Mac vinyl, knowing he’ll love it. “I don’t even own any CD’s, I buy everything in vinyl.”

“Can I take a picture of this?” He asks, pointing at the shelf in general.

I shrug. “Be my guest.”

I wait until he’s done to hand him the leash and his water bottle, grabbing my phone from the counter afterwards. “Let’s go?”

I notice he’s smirking when he comes towards the door, so I stop to return his stare. “What?”

“You’re quite chatty today.”

I frown. “I am?”

“I think you are, yeah.” He kneels to put the leash on Honey’s collar. “Usually it takes you a bit longer to start chatting like that. I think you’re warming up to me.”

“Uh,” I try to think of something to follow his statement, but I’m taken aback so I decide to move on and change the subject (truly Ellie fashion). “Let’s go so I can chat in the car, then.”

We made puppy walking arrangements late last night, when he asked me about my Saturday plans. We ended up deciding he’d come pick us up and we’d go up to Belsize Park, where we could grab lunch afterwards.

I’m reliving our conversation when we get to his Range Rover and he opens the back door. I widen my eyes when I see he’s bought himself a pink blanket to protect his seats and a seat belt for dogs.

“You’ve gone late night shopping.” I point out. He smirks, letting me buckle Honey up so she travels safely. She immediately lies down and I’m already taking a picture of her when I squeal “She looks so cute. Thanks for this.” I say, turning my body to look at him properly.

“S’nothing.” He shrugs. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”

Harry was probably right when he said I was chatty today because, for some reason, I don’t shut up for the whole car ride. I tell him my new idea for the store’s Halloween layout and how the Christmas layout will probably be the last one I’ll work on for a while, as I’ll be pretty busy afterwards.

I tell him I’m stressing over my thesis presentation but I’m working on distracting myself. How I subscribed to Netflix a few days ago and started a new documentary series called I’m a Killer (which is creepy in a lot of ways) – and proceed to tell him, in detail, the three episodes I‘ve seen so far.

In my defence, Harry’s pretty into what I’m saying – no matter the topic. Which I’m trying to ignore, because if I focus on the smile craved into his face right now, I’d probably go into a whole new crisis and I’m keen on keeping things right as they are. (That being the whole reason why I try not to think about how my crush has not gone away yet. In fact, it gets a little worse every time my phone buzzes with one of his texts - it’s actually a little bit worrying, since he keeps on texting).

I’m talking about the last Grey’s Anatomy episode I’ve watched (even though I get the feeling he only watched a few loose episodes and he’s not exactly sure who’s who) when he parks the car. Honey lifts her head up for the first time and barks, which makes me get another picture because I’m a proud mother.

Harry’s the first one to get out of the car and gets her out as well. I accept the leash so he can look for a beanie, even though it’s not that cold. I’m not sure if he’s looking for comfort or a way to go unnoticed, but I accept when he offers me a black one.

“All set?” He questions before locking the car. I nod, phone in my little bag and water bottle in my hand.

Harry puts his keys in his shorts’ pocket and we’re off. Honey’s finally a happy girl, jumping from leaf to leaf and I think Harry’s enjoying seeing her, judging by his tiny smile.

“Here, you take her.” I hand him the leash. He takes it quickly, clearly ready to let her go wherever the hell she wants. I don’t mind, as I’m free to take all the photos I want. “So how did your session go yesterday?” I ask, knowing he’s writing his second album at the moment.

“Wrote a shit song.” He makes a face, shrugging afterwards. I can see he’s not at all happy with that, however he shrugs it off. “Monday’ll be better, hopefully.”

“For sure, it can’t always be a hit.” I try to comfort him. I don’t know anything about writing songs but, from my experience, you never get things right on first try; take the Halloween layout for the store, for instance – took me three whole ideas to get it right. “Are you writing mostly alone?”

“Not in the studio, I have other people with me in there.” he explains. “Right now, I’m writing with two of my bandmates, actually.”

“Band, as in One Direction?”

He laughs. “No, as in the band that comes with me on tour. Mitch and Sarah – they’re actually dating now.”

“Ah, that’s cute! Were they dating when you met them?“

“No,” he shakes his head, “They didn’t even know each other.”

“Oh my God,” I don’t know why I’m loving this story so much. “You brought two people together, Harry!”

“You seem excited with the prospect of love,” I can feel his tease before his next words come out, judging by his smirk when he turns his head from Honey’s spot in front of us to me. “For someone who claims to not even comment on guys, let alone date.”

“There you go again,” I roll my eyes theatrically. He’s been messing with me every chance he gets. “See, you can’t know anything! I regret trying to clear up my name now!”

“You didn’t have a name to clear up,“ he’s quick to point out. ”You know I’m only joking, Ellie.”

“No, you’re so not!” I fight, though holding back a smile. “You love to tease me! Just yesterday you asked me if Jesse Williams rated higher than you on my non-existent scale!“

He’s laughing before I even finish my rant. “Yeah, ‘cause you’re a liar! You tell me one day you don’t comment on guys and the next you’re texting me he’s hottest male actor on Grey’s Anatomy right now. Why were you texting me that?”

“Well, I told my friend you were handsome, didn’t I? It seems like sometimes I can’t help myself.” I’m not even sure how this is coming out of my lips, but it is. “Also, I bet even you wouldn’t resist Doctor Avery!”

He actually shrugs.

“Let’s move on, then!” I’m end the conversation and walk faster, away from this conversation.

We stop after a little, sitting down on the grass. Honey’s licking my face as soon as my butt touches the ground and I’m laughing as I get attacked. I notice Harry’s laughing next to me, deciding to finally help me out only after about five minutes and a dozen photographs saved on his phone.

Honey lets him take her away from me, though only to lick his cheek. He doesn’t mind, but I have to yell out a warning so she stays still. It takes Harry a few minutes after that, but he manages to have her lie in his legs.

I’m about to congratulate him on being right (Honey did lick him after about an hour), when he turns to me with a question.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“That depends, what kind of question?”

“A personal one.” I motion for him to continue. “How come you’re really not interested in dating?”

He looks genuinely interested so I decide to give him half the reason.

“I’m just not looking for a relationship right now. There’s too much going on with the internship; I need to make it count- no distractions allowed.“ I answer honestly. I don’t tell him, however, how my parents relationship scarred me for life and how I spend most of the time comparing the guys I meet with my father, so I don’t make the same mistakes as my mom, instead of actually getting to know them. "Also, there hasn’t been anyone to catch my eye lately.” I add, trying to get those thoughts out of my head for the moment.

“I get it,” he’s nodding. "Work normally gets in the way of things.”

I’m not sure if I should, but since he asked me, I’m asking right back. "Has it ever happened to you?”

Surprisingly, he answers with no reservations. "Yeah, my last few relationships, actually. We’ve always been in different stages in our careers.” I’m sitting with my legs crossed, my attention fully on him. We’re both in the middle of a park, sulking in the sun and petting a puppy - maybe that’s why he doesn’t stop there. “Can I be completely honest?”

I nod.

"I don’t think either of us really put in the work when things got complicated. We enjoyed while it lasted and, when it started going downhill, we let it.”

"Would you say you haven’t truly been in love, then?”

What kind of questions am I making? I’m half expecting him to say I’m being too nosey, but he just shrugs slightly and shifts his gaze to the park instead of me, as if he’s just now trying to decipher his past feelings.

“Hm, I don’t know. Maybe, yeah. I don’t know.” He finally answers. "When you put it that way, if I had truly loved them, I probably would have tried harder, right?”

“Don’t ask me!” I laugh. "I know nothing about love.”

"Define nothing.”

I know what he’s after and, after everything he just revealed, I feel like I have to give back. “I had one boyfriend, in 12th grade. Let’s just say I thought I did but I didn’t cry over him all that much after it was done – so, looking back, I don’t think I loved him.”

“Why did you guys break up?”

“I wanted to come to London, he was going to Oxford.” I shrug. “Life, I guess.”

He hms, though I don’t know if he believes that was it, and we go back to a comfortable silence, enjoying the little sun we’re getting and each other’s company, before picking up our walk and chatting our way back down the park.

&&

My sister has found the pictures I took of Honey in the park

I don’t think she’s happy

Why wouldn’t she be happy?

She says I’m supposed to be a cat person

It’s really not my fault her cat hates me, she scratches me all the time

Honey bit you twice that day and you didn’t seem to mind

Honey was playing, Olivia does it on purpose

I don’t think she likes me either

Well, if it makes you feel better, I think Honey likes you back

&&

Exactly four weeks since this whole thing started, I find myself in a pumpkin patch just outside London, holding Honey as I watch Harry and my godson a few meters down, picking up the biggest pumpkin I’ve ever seen.

I put Honey down when I see them walk over, picking my own pumpkin from the ground. Harry’s holding the pumpkin they just picked and a medium-sized one, while Max is holding a rather small one (we agreed we’d each get one according to our size). I think about asking Harry if he needs any help but he’s not looking bothered – in fact, I reckon he’d carry another one and still look like he’s not even trying. I try not to think much on how his muscles must look behind his thick coat, but my mind goes there anyway.

Max runs to me, though I’m not sure how, with the amount of clothes he has on (it’s too cold to be outside). He repeatedly shouts my name, until he gets close enough for me to hear him. “El, look at Hawwy’s pumpin!”

“I see he’s got a rather big one,” I raise my eyebrows. “Why’s that?”

“Max thought I should get the biggest,” Harry begins to explain.

My godson puts his hand on my leg to get my attention. “Yeah, Hawwy’s big like daddy! Daddy always gets the big pumpin!”

I laugh. “But why does he have two, then?”

“I couldn’t possible carve this massive one, so the smaller one’s for carving.” Harry explains. “We agreed I’d paint the other one with him.” He manages to tousle Max’s hair in a fond gesture. “Right, Max?”

“Yes!”

I mirror the little one’s big smile and look up at Harry, knowing exactly what he’s done.

Earlier today, before Harry arrived to come with us, I told Max he was going to paint his pumpkin, since was still too young to actually carve one. Needless to say, the five-year-old was not too pleased and threw a tiny fit, crying real tears and yelling he didn’t want to celebrate Halloween, then. I tried not to laugh at that and let him cry until he got over it; he still had his eyes slightly red when Harry knocked on the door and I had to explain it to him on the way over. Therefore, it’s no coincidence Harry’s now going to paint a pumpkin with Max.

“Are we ready to go, then? We’ve got a lot to do!”

Max is nodding before I finish. “Can I paint Spidaman?”

“Yes, you can.” I agree. “But what should Harry paint?”

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Harry mutters next to me. “I can’t draw for my life.”

I eye him with the smallest smirk, “Sure you can.”

“Sure I can’t.”

“Max, should Harry draw a skeleton?”

“Noooooo,” the boy makes a face. “Hawwy should dwaw spidaman like meeee!”

Harry’s the one making a face now. “Cause that’s so much easier,” He laughs, reaching the car as he speaks. I open the trunk and he puts his two pumpkins in there. Max drops his tiny one and, suddenly, Harry’s picking him up in the air. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you, little fella?” The boy’s laughter fills the air and I realize I’m frozen, looking at them - pumpkin stuck below my left arm and Honey pulling her leash on my right hand, trying to get into the fun. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” Harry tickles him before he places him on the floor again.

Harry looks at me and I jump slightly, almost dropping my pumpkin. He raises his eyebrow and I blush (when will I stop?).

Without a word, I drop the pumpkin in the trunk and close it, hurrying to get Honey in her seat – and to get away from Harry’s eyes, that seem to be following my every move.

I finish buckling Honey up just as Max puts his seat belt on and Harry sits in the passenger seat. He tried to persuade me to drive up here but I stood my ground, so he seems to have drop it.

I hold back a giggle as I sit in the driver’s seat. My car is rather small, a white Fiat 500c that is great to drive around London, but Harry does look rather small in it.

“What?” He’s asking as soon as my eyes land on him.

“Nothing!” I hold my hands up in the air and start the car.

“You had that look on your face,” he points out. “Like you were about to burst in laughter.”

“You look funny in my car, that’s all.”

“Ah, I look funny, do I? Must be why I wanted to bring my own car!” He complains, though I see amusement in his expression. He pauses before he continues. “It’s been worth it, though.”

“What do you mean, it’s been worth it?”

“You look cute while driving,” he notes. I must look startled because I certainly feel it, as I don’t expect him to make a comment like this. “You purse your lips a little. It’s well cute.”

“Uh,” I’m not sure the reaction he’s expecting, just as I’m not sure the reaction I should have. So, unsurprisingly, I change the subject. “What do you want to listen to, Bubba?”

“One Diwection!”

I close my eyes just enough to avoid the redness to grace my cheeks. “Besides that, honey.”

“Whyyy?” He cries.

“He can listen to whatever he wants.” Harry points out. “So, you like One Direction, mate?”

“Yes!”

“We have a teen cousin who loved your band very much. That meaning, this” my finger moves between me and the five-year-old. “Didn’t come from me.”

“Aw, are you sure, Ellie?” Harry’s smirk is so wide I want to slap it off of his face. “I didn’t know you were a One Direction fan!”

“I’m actually not,” I break it out to him. Then, I think about his reaction to listening to his first album from start to finish. “Well, One Direction it is Max.” I eye Harry. “I reckon you have Up All Night somewhere on your phone?”

“You think you’re punishing me but I love it, Frost.”

To my dismay, the man laughs and sings with Max the whole journey home.

¨

Harry’s following my every move as I finish laying down all the supplies we’ll need to our Halloween shenanigans. I feel my skin burn under his gaze but don’t acknowledge it. Max has disappeared into my room after Honey, so I was left alone with a man with sudden staring problems.

I’m calling Max as soon as my kitchen counter is perfectly protected (I paid good money for it to be stained with paint). Harry picks him up and places him on middle stool.

I sigh and make my way to the kid’s left stool. I decided earlier to carve a ghost so I get on with it. I’m not even properly started when Max looks up to me. “Can I have a photo of Spidaman, pwease?” I laugh, nodding. I put a photo on my phone and put it in front of him, so he can see the blues and the reds.

We start carving/painting in silence, only broken by Honey’s toy and/or Max making questions regarding his little Spiderman. I reckon he’ll give up and paint the whole pumpkin soon, but until then I humour him with little pieces of advice.

I look beyond my godson’s blonde hair, catching a glimpse of a focused Harry Styles. He’s been silent for a while, so I decide to check on him. I look at his pumpkin, realizing he’s taken all his seeds and he’s not carving a small line. I notice he has his tongue out in concentration and I smile involuntarily. 

Max’s finishing his Spiderman when Harry puts his knife down and sights in relief. “Mine’s done!”

I look over.

“You carved an H?”

“I carved a very well carved H,” Harry giggles. “I’m quite happy with it, if you must know.”

“Congratulations?” I laugh. “Now, onto painting that one. Max’s almost finished, aren’t you, bubba?”

He nods proudly. “El? Can I paint it all now?”

“Let me take a picture to show your parents first, yes?” I ask the little one, staring at my hands after. Harry’s washing his hands in the sink so he can paint the next one, so I ask him. “Can you take the picture, please?”

He nods, picking my phone for me and taking a picture of the boy and his pumpkin. He, then, proceeds to take a picture of me. I wrinkle my nose and smile at him.

“You look great,” He tells me, showing me the picture. “Though that’s not a surprise.”

I blush, staring at my own reflection. My blonde locks are tamed in a high ponytail and my cheeks are slightly rosy due to the room temperature, but I agree it’s a nice picture – I might even post it on Instagram later.

I’m glad that I only look over at Harry’s pumpkin after I finish mine, otherwise my perfectly carved ghost would turn out more like a sack.

He’s painted a pink ‘E’ with cute flowers around it.

¨

N O V E M B E R

I’m taking the last pumpkin out of the store – Halloween has been done for about a week – when Amy shows up. She’s carrying two hot drinks and hands me one as soon as I get my hands free. Wearing a brown skirt and orange blouse, she’s got the whole blogger vibe going on. I don’t dress up nearly as much as she does, even if I take pride in looking at least decent, mostly opting for one of the fifty pairs of skinny jeans I own and a sweater accordingly to my mood. I also never take my two silver necklaces off.

“We need to talk.” She declares, before turning to get into the store.

I follow, taking my seat behind the counter. She sits on the counter and eyes me accusingly – I cringe, sipping my drink. “What have you been up to lately?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” she rolls her eyes. “There’s something going on and you won’t tell me!”

“There isn’t.”

Amy eyes me. “Fine.” I know it isn’t and she proves it after a second. “Why don’t you trust me?” She whines. “I can handle whatever it is! Did I do something?” I’m about to say no when she continues. “I mean, I know I didn’t but, like, why else would you avoid me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!”

“Riiiiight.” She rolls her eyes. “You didn’t text me for two weeks last month.”

I curse myself.

“Ok. Do you want to know what’s happening?” I close my eyes and gather the courage to tell her I’ve been hanging out with Harry Styles. I might even tell her she was right all along and I do have a crush on him while I’m at it. I do need to talk to someone about it as I keep dreaming about him.

When I open my eyes again, I see the man himself coming into Memory Lane. Great, now I can’t even admit my darkest secret to my best friend.

“There.” I point to the door and Amy turns.

I can see her shock as her eyes widen and she turns back to me with an opened mouth. I would’ve laugh if I wasn’t so afraid of what might come out of said mouth when she recovers from the shock.

“You’re doing Harry Styles?”

I flinch. Even with her half-whispered tone, her voice is strong enough to be heard from the other side of the store. As my luck goes, Harry’s just a few steps away.

“No!” I yell back, hiding my face in my hands. I must be as red as a tomato right now. “Shut up.”

“Did I come in in a bad time?” Harry announces his presence, pointing backwards to the door. I want to say Yes, but he’s wearing actual blue jeans and a black jacket with a wool collar – he’s so handsome, my hormones take over me. “I can come back?”

I want to shout “No”.

I gather my thoughts, laying my cup on the counter and getting up to greet him. I whisper an “You’re early” while hugging him briefly, all the while, feeling Amy’s eyes on us (probably about to fall off her face). I bite my lower lip nervously. “Uh, this is Amy – my best friend.”

“Hi.” She manages to say with a little wave.

“’m Harry.” He takes a step towards her and they greet each other with two kisses. “But you know that, right? Ellie told you-”

“Not now, Harry.” I roll my eyes, cutting him, as I’m positive he was about to bring up that time I told her he was handsome. I pat his chest so he takes a step back. He laughs, though he moves accordingly.

It takes Amy’s gaze to drop to my hand for me to realize I kept it there a second too much. I take it back as if he just burned me.

“Go fetch something,” I shoo him away, gesturing to the farthest end of the store with my hands. “I’m almost closing and then we’ll go.” He shakes his head but does as I say. He’s not stupid, he knows he just walked in on something.

“Now us.” Amy takes a step closer.

“Right. Ok.” I fiddle with my sweater. “Ok. Uh, so, we switched phones about a month ago.”

“What? He was here and you didn’t tell me?”

“Uh, yeah - no, I didn’t. But that’s your fault.” I point out. “You’re always bothering me, I would never hear the end of it!”

“I’m not sure if I should take offense to that.” she stops. Her curiosity, however, takes the best of her pretty quickly. “Keep going!”

“So that’s why I didn’t talk to you much those weeks. I had Harry’s phone and I was afraid you’d text him instead of me – as he had my phone.”

“Ohh, I see.” She giggles. “And then what?”

“Then he texted me and we got talking.” I shrug. I see Harry turning his head slightly and eyeing us from the corner of his eye. I eye him back, making sure he knows he isn’t being discrete. He chuckles and goes back to what he was seeing before. “I swear we’re just friends.”

“Oh, you swear?”

“Yes, I do!” She looks like she doesn’t believe me. “I’m serious. I don’t need, or want, a boyfriend right now!”

My voice must have powered through, since Harry’s head turns a little. He doesn’t fully turn, but I can tell he overheard me.

Good.

“Alright, alright,” Amy doesn’t press. “I can see why you haven’t told me.” I sigh in relief – too soon, because she continues in a hushed voice. “But you gotta hit that!”

I roll my eyes and decide to not comment, checking the time. It’s six on the dot, so I go up to the door and turn the sign over to closed.

“I must say these glasses aren’t what I expected to find today.” Harry comes up to me with the fake reading glasses I saved him last week. “Do you really think they suit me?”

I pretend he doesn’t look as good as he does with them on. “Yes, I thought they would. But, also, you used to give me a few months to choose something, you’ve barely gave me two weeks this time round.”

He smiles, as if he’s happy it has been so little time. “You do know it’s fine if you don’t have anything waiting for me, right?”

I nod, though I don’t want that to happen. It’s our thing, I don’t want to change it.

“I don’t come in for that anymore.”

One day he’s going to kill me; on that day, he better feel remorseful for dropping little bombs like that on me so often. I try not to show emotion, even if my mind starts racing. “I mean,” Harry runs a hand through his hair and continues. “I do love it. But we’re friends now. I come in to pick you up and stuff.” I eye him, nodding as if he’s making perfect sense. “Uh, are you ready, then?”

“Yes. Uh, yes.”

“Do you want to come with us, Amy?” Harry addresses my friend, who’s been eyeing up a poorly done painting as a way of pretending she wasn’t listening in to our conversation. I know her better than that. “We’re meeting a couple of my friends in a pub.”

Amy moves her eyes from Harry to me and I plead with my eyes. It’s not as if I’m not excited to meet Mitch and Sarah – it’s that I’m anxious as hell. I wasn’t even supposed to take a shift at Memory Lane today, but I asked my aunt to take the afternoon off so I could take my mind of things. She thought it was my presentation; instead, it was meeting Harry’s friends.

It had just come up during our daily texts. He was telling me about his day on the studio and mentioned they were going to go for drinks on Friday, after their session. I didn’t even realize I was agreeing to come with until he said he’d pick me up (that’s when I started freaking out).

“I’m in.” Amy locks her arm with mine. “Go grab your handbag, Frosty.” I roll my eyes at her nickname and go through the back door to get my things.

I’m sure to fasten my pace so Amy isn’t left alone with Harry for long. Luckily, when I get back, they’re talking about the pub we’re going to (I wouldn’t know if it’s good, as it’s not really my scene).

I move to the door and they follow suit.

“Wait,” Harry realizes he still has the glasses on. “I haven’t paid for these yet.”

“Consider it a gift.” I tell him, waiting for him to go through the door.

“That’s not our deal, but thanks El.”

I curse myself as I lock the door. I can’t possibly be affected each time he smiles at me – it just won’t work. We’re friends. He’s allowed to use a nickname without my insides melting down at his voice.

I’m put together when I turn to them again.

Harry’s Range Rover is parked right in front of the store and Amy makes sure I get onto the passenger door. Harry lets me choose the music and he starts a conversation with my friend, asking her if she’s studying the same as I (the answer is yes) and how did we meet (second week of the second semester). She’s telling him she’s focusing on her blog right now, not on her thesis, when we get to the pub.

When Harry mentioned getting drinks, I didn’t realize we were going to end up in the poshest pub in all of London, though it makes sense. I notice as soon as we get in the people don’t look back at him, which probably makes it easier for him. He sees his friends sitting in the corner and turns to me, close behind him, grabbing my arm in an unconscious gesture. I let him guide me.

“You guys are here on time!” He exclaims, a huge grin forming in his face. I drag my eyes from him to the couple sat close next to each other. “This is Ellie,” his arm leaves my arm and wraps around my waist instead. “These are Mitch and Sarah!”

“Hello!” I’m instantly at ease with Sarah’s welcoming tone, her lips forming a big smile. She gets up to greet me just as Harry remembers he brought another guest and introduces Amy to them. “It’s so nice to meet you!” The brunette says in between kisses.

“You too.” I smile, turning to her boyfriend so I can say hi too.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie,” Mitch smiles and moves on to Amy,

Introductions done, I turn to Harry and notice he’s already sitting, his arm resting on the chair next to him. He signs for me to sit down and I do, accepting his help to hold things out for me as I take my over-the-shoulder bag, scarf and coat off.

“Thanks,” I whisper to him when I’m finally free of the extra pieces of clothing. I notice he’s still wearing the accessory I picked up for him, so I point it out. “You’re still wearing the glasses - y'know that, right?”

He grins, responding with the same hushed tone I used. “Thought you liked ‘em?”

“I do,” I realize Mitch and Sarah are watching our exchange closely as I answer, immediately blushing in consequence. “Uh,” I turn back go my normal tone. “So, how was the studio session today?

"What do you think, H?” Sarah shoots the answer back to the man beside me and the three of them laugh.

I look to my right. “They’re teasing,” he explains. “I thought I had a smash but it ended up being the worst song I’ve ever written.”

“Do you even have any good days in the studio?” I eye him and then turn back to his bandmates. “I swear he tells me every day he’s written a shit song.”

“Shitty for him.” Mitch points out. “I reckon we have a great start on album two.”

“You’ve been lying, then.” I squeeze my eyes at him.

“’M not. I just think we can do way better.” He defends himself. “Let’s not talk about that though, what are we drinking?”

I eye Amy next to me. She stares back, nudging her head slightly as the tiniest sign of reassurance.

Mitch takes the lead and asks for a beer, the other three following his lead. I have my eyes locked on the drink menu when I feel a nudge. Harry eyes me and, then, the menu. “What ‘bout you?”

“Hm, I don’t drink.”

“What do you mean you don’t drink?” Mitch furrows his eyebrows in honest surprise.

Amy answers for me. “She doesn’t care for alcohol.” In truth, she’s lying. I do care for alcohol - I choose not to drink it because of exactly that. “Just order your coke, Frosty.” I hold my tongue out at her teasing tone. She’s right though, that’s what I’m ordering. “She once ordered a milkshake at a rooftop bar.”

I glance at Harry while they laugh, noticing he’s wearing a fond expression. I let out a sigh, forcing my heartbeat to slow down. I hate justifying why I don’t drink.

His laugh turns into a full-on smile and I give him a tiny one in return, wrinkling my nose slightly as if dismissing her comment; I decide right then that’s my favourite kind of smile on him, when there’s still a trace of a good laugh and it reaches his eyes so completely.

I also realize thoughts like these aren’t going to take me anywhere good, so I try to stop them altogether.

“I’ll go get it for you,” Harry mumbles, as the waiter is no longer near our table.

I thank him, following him with my eyes as he makes his way through the bar.

I’m about to take my eyes off him and focus my attention on the conversation between Mitch and Amy when I notice a girl taking a picture of Harry as he talks to the man behind the bar. I see his attention turn to the phone being held in his direction at a distance, but he only sighs and shakes his head slightly. I’m not sure if the girl notices this, but she turns to her friend and decides to keep taking photographs – or filming, I’m not close enough to see.

A new-found wave of anger overwhelms me.

I’m not a confrontation kind of girl. In fact, if there’s anyone who’s able to listen a string of insults without fighting back, it’s me. Right now, however, I feel like going on to the girl and knock that phone onto the ground, preferably shattering the screen into a thousand pieces. No-one is more surprised than me, then, when I excuse myself from the table once I see the girl heading to the restroom.

I’m not sure what I’m doing, even when I do get there. The girl has just gone into one of the cubicles so I just wait outside, my insides bumbling with anger. I never actually stopped to think about what Harry has to go through every day, even that first time when we went out to get coffee for the first time - I just acknowledged how people stared at him a little longer and how he tried to escape it by looking for a quieter place. I wasn’t confronted with this side of things. And now that I am, I find I don’t like it very much.

Before I can think it through, however, the girl is leaving the cubicle and heading towards the sink. I walk over to the sink next to hers.

As we wash our hands together, I stare at her through the mirror and break my silence. “What you just did out there,” she seems startled, looking at me in confusion. “That was wrong on many levels.” I ignore her as she opens her mouth slightly, maybe to ask what I’m referring to, maybe to defend herself. “You may be used to seeing him in magazines so your perception is a little clouded, but I assure you he’s, in fact, a real person – and in real life, you don’t take pictures of people without their consent.” I’m already drying my hands as I finish, throwing the paper towel into the trash and eyeing her hard on my way to the door.

The second I walk out of that bathroom, I realize what I’ve done. I breathe in, and then out, hard. It’s probably not very clever to be waiting outside for her to come out, so I walk fast towards out table, where Harry’s sat with a beer in front of him and an iced Coke next to it.

Amy eyes me weirdly. “Where have you been? You left like you were on a mission.”

“Uh- just the restroom, really.” I pick up my glass and take a large sip.

“Why are you shaking?” I jump a little when I feel Harry’s breath on my skin due to his proximity. He’s whispering again and I bet Sarah’s eyes won’t take long to catch us. “’m sorry.” He places a hand on my leg as if to relax me.

“I’m not shaking,” I hold his stare with one of my own. “Thanks for the drink.”

I don’t think he believes me but he lets it go. Instead, he focuses on the conversation happening between the other three and gives his two cents here and then. I try to do the same, but I feel as if all the nerves in my body are electrified and I want to cry.

It’s not a new feeling. Sometimes I forget how much I really don’t like confrontation. If you tick just the right box, I’ll explode – and then I’ll feel like shit. I contemplate if I should go apologize to the girl, as I imagine she really likes Harry and didn’t mean to be rude - I even try to look for her, but she’s not at her table anymore (probably for the best, since deep down I know I’m right).

My phone buzzes with a text.

You’re acting weird

What’s going on?

I look to Harry but he’s looking forward, as if he didn’t just text me. I guess that was the point, though – to be discrete. I exhale, trying to feel normal again. I don’t want to ruin the night – I don’t want Mitch and Sarah to think I’m rude because I’m not joining in the conversation.

Instead, I only get more rattled.

I’m feeling weird, I’m sorry.

I notice Harry flips his phone as soon as he gets the text. He doesn’t look at me – instead, he drags his hand to my thigh, his palm upwards, barely touching my jeans. I swallow hard, discretely placing my hand on his.

This was not supposed to be happening. The part of me who’s crushing hard, however, doesn’t mind a single bit. Instead, it takes her only a few minutes to win over the other. I grab my coke again and laugh at Sarah’s latest tour story.

I’m not sure if they notice we’re holding hands for the next two hours, but no one mentions it.

Harry closes the door to my apartment behind him. He didn’t ask me If he could come in, he informed he was going to, after he parked the car. Honey comes running from her little bed beside the couch and I kneel to pet her, bringing her to the couch with me.

Harry’s taking his coat off when he finally asks the question on his mind since we left the pub. “What happened in the restroom?”

“Nothing bad.”

“Right.” He locks his jaw, deciding to sit on the couch next to me. “’Cause nothing bad made you shake life a leaf.”

“I was not shaking like a leaf.” I eye him. “Maybe like a medium sized tree branch.” He does not look amused, so I shrug my shoulders down. “I’m not sure if you’re going to like what I did.” I confess, turning on the couch and crossing my legs, facing him completely. Honey seems undecided as if she wants to stay on my lap on go straight to Harry’s. “Did you notice a girl getting your photo when you were at the bar?”

“Yes,” He nods. His jaw immediately locks again and I wonder what scenarios he’s making in his head. “Why?”

“Uh, I might have followed her down to the restroom and told her off.”

I think he’s trying to hold on a laugh but I’m not entirely sure. “You what?”

“I basically told her that what she did was wrong and that people don’t just take pictures of other people without their consent.” I shrug, biting the inside of my cheek. “Wait- are you laughing?”

“I just-” He laughs adorably, his eyes almost shut. “I’ve been worried sick imagining someone messed with you and, instead, you messed with them.”

I curve my lips slightly upwards. “I felt bad afterwards, though, that’s why I acted so weird.”

“You shouldn’t.” He tells me. “I mean, you definitely shouldn’t be picking up my fights for me, but you shouldn’t feel bad for sticking up for what you think is right either.”

 “I don’t like confrontation.”

He nods, thinking for a second before he voices another question. “Then why did you go after her?”

“I guess I don’t like people disrespecting you more.”

“Come here.” He opens his arms and I make the quick decision to crawl closer to him. He places his left arm around my shoulders and kisses my forehead. “That was very sweet of you, El. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I mumble. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“Nah, no one noticed except me.” I doubt that, but I pretend that’s the case. “Are you sleepy or can we watch something on Netflix?”

I immediately turn my tv on, as it is the perfect opportunity to make him start watching Brooklyn 99. I’ve been telling him to watch for about a week, since I love it so much – however, as the episode starts and jokes are made, all I can focus on is his warmth around me and how his body shakes when he laughs.

&&

This guy was filming me in the gym. Could you please come here and teach him some manners, please?

Stooooop

It’s not funny

I just wish I could have seen your face

You look so sweet all the time, I wonder what you look like when you’re mad at someone

Thank you?

&&

I try to keep my expression as neutral as possible as I listen to the take Harry just sang in the booth. Sarah, Mitch and their other bandmate, Adam, are all focused – ready to point every note Harry should change next. If you ask me, it sounded perfect four takes ago. That’s probably why they don’t ask.

Once again, I’m not sure how I got here. We’d been texting two hours ago, as we’ve been since that first day, when Harry asked me what I was doing. I was just returning home from my morning walk with Honey and had to revise my PowerPoint presentation, as my thesis presentation is quickly approaching. One second, I was coming out of the shower, sweatpants ready to be worn in my bed, and the next I was digging a pair of black skinny jeans from the closet and going out the door with my Mac in a backpack.

I’m not sure who I was trying to fool when I agreed I could work in the studio – it’s no surprise that I have made exactly one change since I got here, an hour ago. I’m not sure if it’s Harry’s raw voice coming out of every column in the room or his laid back style for the day – a pair of sweatpants and the Stevie Nicks t-shirt I chose for him, but something’s messing with my head more than usual. It might also be the cuddling mess three nights ago, that hasn’t left my head since.

Either way, if I let myself get lost in Harry’s voice right now, I’m not sure my eyes wouldn’t turn into hearts and everyone in this room would realize how big of a crush I have on that guy. Which is dangerous for everyone (myself the most).

I’m hiding behind the screen when Sarah comes sit on the ground. I’m lying of the couch, occupying the whole space – I told myself Harry couldn’t come sit by me this way, but Sarah just proved me wrong. I look at her, eyeing my PowerPoint out of the corner on my eye. I shut the computer, deciding it was a lost cause from the start.

“Harry told us what you did the other day.” She mumbles, I reckon a bit unsure if she should be bringing it up.

“I lost it,” I chuckle, thinking back on the whole thing. After a few days, the dust has settled and I’m now fine with my actions. I’m not sure if I’d do it again, but I was right to do so. “I’m not sure what came over me.”

“I might have a good guess.” Sarah comments and I frown. Did she exchange numbers with Amy? That’d explain the use of the same words my friend spoke to me. Sarah surprises me with her next words, however. Instead of addressing what I might, or might not, feel, she gives me an inside on what Harry’s feeling. “He cares about you a lot, y’know?”

“I guess,” I shrug it off. “We’ve become good friends.”

“You have.” She agrees, spreading her legs on the carpet and resting her head on the free spot next to mine. “You reckon you could be more than that?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m his friend, I like to know what’s going on.” I make an ‘hm’ sound to let her know I get it. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to tell him your answer.”

I look at Harry, again in the booth. He has his eyes closed, headphones on, singing his heart out. I sigh. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.” I decide to be honest, even if she ends up telling him every word I say right now. “I don’t think I can do more than friends right now – with anyone.”

“Why’s that?” She inquires. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“That’s a long story you’re after.” I chuckle. “I have some daddy issues, let’s leave it at that.”

“Oh.” She lets out a chuckle as well, eyeing the ceiling above us. “Can I give you a piece of advice, though?”

“Sure thing.”

“Take it from me – don’t fight it. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be, and you’re just going to end up regretting all the time you lost.” I listen closely, even if skeptical. “If there’s anyone able to make you overcome whatever you have going on, that’d be him.”

I don’t respond, as I’m not sure I agree with her – and she doesn’t say anything else either. We lay quietly next to each other, listening to the guys talk.

Here, completely sucked in Harry’s world, I realize I’ve been playing with fire since the start.

I mean what I just said to Sarah, I’m not ready to date anyone. However, I’m spending my days texting Harry and arranging time to meet up. I’m dreaming with his little smiles and out of the blue compliments. I’m thinking back to his warmth and how it makes me feel when he calls me El.

I don’t think I’m crushing anymore.

I know I’m falling.

“What do you think, El?” His voice wakes me from my deep thoughts and I jump out of my skin. Sarah jumps too as a reflex. “Ellie?”

“Uh?”

He steps towards me, wearing the cutest frown I’ve ever seen. I want to poke his dimple and drag him to this couch so we can cuddle. I also want to hit myself. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I was just thinking.” I dismiss him, forcing a smile. “What was it?”

“I was asking what do you think of the song so far,” He points to the booth, as if I need a visual reference. “Do you want to listen to the whole thing again?”

“I do,” I nod, getting up from the couch. “But only because I love it already.”

He smiles big. “Thank you.”

“I mean it,” I grin, following him to where the others are. “I’d pay you big bucks to have you cover all my favourite songs.”

“Anytime.”

I curse myself, because I suddenly hope to God he really means it.

&&

Ellie, you awake?

Yes

What’s that show you watch with Kristen Bell?

The Good Place

Why?

Nick was describing it but didn’t get the name right

Nick as in… Nick Grimshaw?

Yeah, you want me to say hi?

Uh, no, thanks. that’d be weird

It wouldn’t

He’s seen your photo

What? Whyyy?

No reason

He thinks you’re pretty

&&

For once, it’s me who asks Harry if he wants to hang out. He’s been spending most of his days in the studio and going on countless meetings with his record label – or so he tells me, though Sarah confirmed it last night when she texted me (apparently, Harry heard her talk about a TV show I watch and passed on my number so we could discuss), so it has been a few (long) days since we’ve seen each other.

Harry said he was out of the studio by eight so he should be home when I arrive (he decided we should hang in his house since he’s been to mine a few times already) but gave me the code to his gate nonetheless. I punch the numbers while trying not to think on how domesticated this all feels.

I’ve decided to block all negative thoughts for the time being.

I went for brunch with Amy the other day. In between bites, I finally broke it down to her - she made a little victory dance when I confessed I had a crush on Harry from the start. I think she even wanted to punch the air when I told her I like him more than that now, but my worried expression must have held her back.

Now, acknowledging my feelings isn’t going to change anything between us, but it does change something in me. Every time I look at him, I’ll be thinking how it’d be like to hold his hand or run my fingers through his hair. Don’t get me wrong, that’d be a good thought- if only I weren’t scared to death of relationships.

I see light coming from inside the house, indicating Harry must be home. I park my car next to his, picking my handbag and the bag of groceries I just bought on my way here.

Harry’s on the front door by the time I emerge from behind the Range Rover, waving his hand with an adorable smile. I walk faster, not only because it’s starting to rain but also because I want to feel his warmth. I pray he doesn’t notice my rosy cheeks as I hug him with my free arm and he kisses my temple in a quiet greeting. I inhale his familiar scent before we let go of each other, closing my eyes for a split second to remind myself to play it cool.

“You smell good,” Harry comments, as if he’s just done the same as I did. “Is that a new perfume?”

I’m glad I’ve already turned to go into his house as I’m sure he’d noticed my blush now. “Uh, yeah. I just bought a winter-y one.”

I stop in the hall, not completely sure on what to do. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“Only if you want – I can get you a pair of slippers.” He offers, hurrying to get the grocery bag from me once he lays eyes on it. “Sorry, let me take this to the kitchen – make yourself at home”

I do as I’m told, observing the huge mirror on the hall. There’s a pair of his boots next to it, so I take my own black ones and place them next to his. I take my coat off and hang it on the other wall, where he has two of his. Finally, I fix my hair and go further inside, running my fingers through a paint hanged on the wall. When I go through the door, I meet the living room of anyone’s dreams.

There’re two couches, both black with soft pillows, and an enormous grey carpet covers a good portion of the area. Everything yells chic; however, it still has a cosy feel to it. It looks as if it belongs in a magazine and I’m compelled to take a few photographs to save it on my ‘inspiration folder’. I can only hope I do a job like this in the future.

I’m still in awe of all the choices that brought this room together when Harry comes from a hallway to the left. For some reason, his laid-back style mixed with the luxurious room makes me smile.

“Do you like it?”

“This is amazing, who did you hire?” I gesture to the room, though I don’t give him any time to answer. “Is the rest of the house like this?” He nods, slightly shrugging. He might be used to this, but I’m not. “Can you show me?”

Harry laughs, gesturing for me to follow him. “To answer your initial question, I had Kelly Hoppen do it.”

I stop in my tracks, staring at him, mouth wide open and googly eyes. It doesn’t go unnoticed how naturally he just said that. “The Kelly Hoppen?” I might have a heart attack. I think he wants to laugh again as I look around me and gasp at everything once more. “Oh my God, Harry.” He does laugh then, dragging me by my arm all the way to the next room. “You don’t understand, I applied for a job there and cried when they didn’t answer.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s their loss.” I eye him sideways. Really? Did he just say that? “I did some research on your internship, y’know. Taylor Howes is one of the best studios in the country.”

“Yeah, but Kelly Hoppen is amazing. She did the Beckham’s house,” I point out. “and yours, apparently.”

“That means nothing.” He shrugs. “You can still apply in a while, right? After you have some experience?”

“I think so. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’ll learn as much as I can on Taylor Howes” I comment while observing the details in this room. “but then I’m not sure. My initial idea was to open a small studio, I guess we’ll see.”

I look back and he’s leaning against the door, arms crossed and a grin on his face. “I’m sure you’ll be great.”

Tour done, I get on to cooking us a lasagna for dinner. Harry said he’d help but right now he’s sat on a stool, elbows resting on his kitchen counter, watching me. He gave up after he peeled and sliced an onion– that was his entire contribution to this meal.

“How did you learn to cook?” He asks after a few minutes of silence.

“My mom taught me,” I answer as I work on the first layer of lasagna sheets. “but I got a bit more practice after I moved to London.”

“That was three, four years ago, right?”

“Five, actually.” I tell him. “I was still seventeen, my grandparents got the house ready for me and I moved in late September – my birthday is in December. So, yeah, I was still really young.”

He nods in understanding. “How did you find it?”

“It was a bit lonely but, for the most part, I’m good with that.” I answer truthfully, focusing my attention on finishing with a layer of white sauce. “How did you find it when you left?”

He chuckles. “I missed my mom and my sister but I had a lot to entertain myself with.”

“Like going on live television.” I grin, finally putting the dish on the stove. I lean on the counter and look at him, arms crossed.

“Yeah – like that.” He chuckles but doesn’t take the bait to talk about it. Apparently, he’s solely focused on me tonight. “You have a brother, right?.”

“Jasper.” I nod, thinking back to when I last saw him in person in early October. We facetime often, but it’s not the same. “He’s six years older than me - works and lives in Brighton.”

“So, it’s just your mom and dad back in Birmingham?” He recalls a conversation where I told him where I was from. He told me about his childhood home that day and we shared our favourite things about our moms.

I shake my head. “Just mom and my childhood dog – Marty. Uh,” I scratch my neck, searching for the right words. “My parents got divorced when I was fifteen. I haven’t been in touch with my dad much since then.”

He seems conflicted, as if he wants to know more but he’s unsure if it’s okay for him to ask. I make it easier for him. “He was insufferable – the definition of drunk, liar and sexist. Those three are a dangerous combination. Believe me, I was more than okay when they went their separate ways.”

Harry’s chewing on his lower lip when I finish, a serious expression clouding his usual chirpy face, so I shut up. I don’t want to delve on it anyway, so I just check the lasagne. I bite my own lip in worry – did I talk too much? When I move to get back to my spot, though, Harry’s occupying it. He holds my right hand and pulls me slightly to him, enough to get our bodies just a few inches from each other. I stare at our hands while he mumbles “I’m sorry to hear that.”

I know what he means. I’m sorry your dad’s a douche. I’m sorry you don’t have a lot of good memories. I’m sorry he gave you enough trust issues you’re dead afraid of loving anyone. My face turns into a frown.

“Ha. Don’t be, it made me tougher.” I force a smirk, though he doesn’t follow. “Seriously, it’s fine.” I take my hand from his and move both to his face, holding his cheeks and curling his lips as upwards as I can. He pouts and we break into laughter at the same time. I realize my mouth’s moving only when my ears listen to what I’m saying. “You’re cute, y’know that?”

He grins, moving his hands from the counter to my waist. He brings me even closer, though he keeps his arms stretched enough so we’re still not quite touching. “Is that a compliment?”

I cross my arms, as I don’t know where else to safely put my hands. “What, you’re one of those guys who can’t be called cute?”

Harry shakes his head. “Course not. You can call me whatever you like.” I grin, unable to fight the urge to pull a piece of his hair backwards. He’s got a weird length going at the moment. “Was it ugly – the divorce?”

“Uh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, figuring out a way to get out of this conversation after I answer this. The largest part of me doesn’t want to share any of it, but there’s a tiny piece that wants to tell everything to this man. I let my hand fall from his hair to his shoulder. “A little.”

“How so?”

The tiniest begins a fight the other, urging for the words to leave my mouth. I think Harry notices, but I start talking before he can tell me it’s okay not to. “The divorce wasn’t that ugly, I guess he just decided he was done one day. I think he got himself a girlfriend and took off.” I start, though I’m not looking at him. Instead, I stare at our feet. One of his thumbs rubs my skin, over the shirt, encouraging me to go on. “It was a relief. It meant the fights were over.” I continue. “But it left a whole other problem. My dad was one of those men who thinks women belong in the kitchen, taking care of the kids, y’know the type? Having met my father really young, my mom didn’t go to college. She was forty years old when they divorced, never had worked a day in her life - it was harder to get back on our feet afterwards.”

“Did you have anyone helping?”

I shake my head. “My grandparents lived close. They live comfortably – they lived on the flat I live in when they were younger and then moved to Birmingham, where they bought their house now. They aren’t rich though. They helped as they could.” I shrug. “Mom had to take two cleaning jobs – it’s as honourable as any other job, but I can’t help but wonder what could have been, y’know? She loves kids, I think she’d have been a great teacher. Maybe.”

“I bet she would.” Harry smiles a little, his tone gentle. “Does she still work two jobs now?”

“No, no.” I shake my head. “My brother started working shortly after so he took care of himself. She helped with my tuition but my aunt pays me the hours I put in Memory Lane, and since I don’t pay rent, she’s free from her kids now.” I chuckle, though I stop when I start sharing a little too much again. I don’t know why I’m talking so much but it just feels safe. Harry feels safe. “Do you remember the boyfriend I told you about?” Harry frowns, nodding nevertheless. “He didn’t want me to come to London.”

“But you came here to study.” Harry points out, his frown deepening.

“Exactly.” I nod. “That’s the real reason I broke up with him.”

Harry smiles as my words hit him and I feel as if I don’t have any air right now. There’s a flash of pride in his eyes and I’m not sure how to deal with it. Fortunately, the oven’s time alarm rings and I look over.

Harry brings his right hand from my waist to the nape of my neck and brings his lips to my forehead. “I like you even more than I did before.” He whispers and moves to get the plates, as if he didn’t just make my heart beat three times faster than its normal rate.

&&

I’m coming round

I’ve got Wagamama for two

I let my face hit the kitchen counter, groaning in desperation. When I texted him saying I was stressed, I just wanted reassuring words – I didn’t mean for him to come running!

No! Go back to the studio!

I text quickly, even though I’m sure he’s not going to do as I say. My thesis presentation is tomorrow and I’m pretty sure I have my speech memorized, but my mind keeps making up ugly scenarios, so I keep rehearsing (and maybe crying).

I realize how close Harry was when the bell rings and I’m still in the same position. I groan, following Honey up to the door. “Hi.” I mumble, resting my weight on it. “Told you to go back.”

“Yeah, I ignored you.” He grins, stopping to plant a kiss on my cheek before making his way towards the kitchen. He places the bag on the counter and picks Honey up, placing a kiss on her head as well. “I need to distract you.”

“No, you do not!” I sit back on the stool and stare at my PowerPoint presentation. “I need to go over this two more times and then I’m going to bed.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, you’re going to eat dinner with me and then you’ll practice one more time” I’m making a face, but he doesn’t notice, as he’s going through cupboards in search of cutlery. I don’t help. “With me as an audience. Then, I’ll clean and you’ll go to sleep.”

I groan and turn my attention back to my papers. To no one’s surprise, I can’t really focus on the written words when Harry’s going through my drawers, now in search of forks and knifes. Naturally, I give myself thirty seconds to properly look at him, before going back to my project.

He has a little stubble going on today, probably due to his studio life, and his hair’s a bit messy, a few strands falling on his face. I really don’t think he’s taking the time to do his hair lately, but I decide I like how it is.

I go back to reading my notes, though I’m thinking how good he looks in blue jeans and how I’d pay him to wear them every day. I also take the time to note I’m wearing a pair of leggings and the oldest sweater I own, regretting the choices I made this morning when I got myself dressed.

“Here.” Harry hands me a plate and goes around the counter to sit next to me. “You had that same expression the first time we met,” He points, his lips curving upwards. “’s adorable.”

I blush, though it must not be the same, as I really was focused on studying that day and now, I might focused, but on other things. “Do you remember that day?”

“Yeah, I scared you to death,” He laughs. “You seemed so startled it’s funny.”

“Uh, you did scare me.” I agree. “And then all I could think about was how we didn’t have any Rolling Stones t-shirts.”

He laughs. “D’you wanna know something?

I eye him, nodding just enough so he continues.

A flash of mischief flashes through his eyes as he confesses, “That was mostly an excuse to talk to you.”

I feel my eyes widen and my cheeks redden as his words hit me, suddenly at loss for words.

He gets it, because he swiftly moves forward. “Anyway, did you walk Honey yet?”

I nod, my words coming out as a whisper. “Uh, I walked her this morning.”

“Don’t you walk her in the evening as well?” He narrows his eyes, probably trying to recall the exact conversation I told him that. “I’ll walk her while you get ready for bed.”

It’s like he didn’t just tell me he wanted to talk to me that first day. I gulp, trying to shake it off as well – at least for right now (I can think about it again tomorrow).

“There’s no need, she’s fine.”

Harry eyes me. “Are you always this annoying when you’re stressed?”

Despite his dig, I smile. “Yeah, I am.”

He chuckles, mentioning it’s always good to know that, and moves on to tell me about the new song he’s working on. I don’t get half of what he’s saying, but he seems excited, so I nod and look excited for him.

He takes the plates when we’re both finished and sits on the couch with Honey on his lap. Under his strict orders, I plug the laptop on the TV and stand next to it. I soon find that, if I can deliver this presentation under Harry’s gaze, I must deliver it swiftly tomorrow.

I exhale heavily once I’m done, exactly twenty minutes later. Though I messed up once, I quickly recovered from it so, for the first time today, I’m actually feeling positive.

Harry looks well impressed when I sit next to him. “That was pretty good, yeah?”

I hold back a grin, nodding. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“S’nothing.” He smiles. “Go get ready for bed while I walk Honey. If you really want to, I’ll let you go over it one more time before I go.”

“Yes please!”

He returns my smile and gets up, picking the leash I left on the side couch. He stops just before he goes through the front door, Honey already completely out and currently pulling him. “You sure I can’t go tomorrow?”

“I’m sure,” I try to dismiss him as nicely as I can. This is the third time he’s asked and I can tell he’d really like to show support, but I’ve thought long and hard about it. “I don’t want anyone there.”

He nods, resigned, and closes the door behind him.

¨

I can barely contain my grin, even if it’s been hours since my presentation was over. I had lunch with my aunt and Amy, who both congratulated me a million times. After that, I drove to a park with Amy and Max to have a little walk with Honey and eat huge pancakes because it’s a happy day (it’s justified). I’ve been home for an hour now, yet it still doesn’t feel real that I’m completely done with school. This is it – I’m on holiday until the beginning of January (when a whole new adventure will start).

I’m scrolling through my TV show app when my bell buzzes. Frowning, I ask who it is on the intercom and Harry Styles’s voice comes from it. I open the door up, taking the little time I have to check what time it is – it’s ten minutes past six pm. He should be at the studio right now, not on my building’s lift making his way to me.

I open the door as I hear the lift opening and Harry takes large steps until he’s right in front of me.

“Congratulations!” He grins widely, opening his free arm (he was a white box on his left hand) and pulling me in. “I knew you’d ace it!”

“Yeah, cause you’re an expert in interior designing and all.” I wrinkle my nose, letting him in. “What have you got there?”

He grins even wider, placing the box in the kitchen counter. I take a step closer as he takes a cake out of it. “Thought the occasion deserved a cake.”

I laugh when I see the white letters on the cake – it reads ‘Masters’ and has the checked emoji in front of it. “Thank you!”

“It’s carrot cake,” he informs me. “Do you like carrot cake?”

“Of course I like it! Let’s have a piece right now.” I dig for two plates as well as a cake knife and two forks. I’m cutting a piece for each when Honey finally comes from my room and he kneels down to pet her head. “H, take yours.” I hand in the plate, waiting for him to get up.

When he does, he has a strange smile on his face. “You just called me H.”

“I guess it came out.” I shrug. “You call me El all the time. C’mon, eat your cake.”

He takes it from me and we both head to the couch. “Shouldn’t you be at the studio?” I ask in between bites.

“I gave everyone an early night today.”

“Do you have anything else to do?”

He eyes me. “No – I told everyone to go home because I had to celebrate your win, not because anything else.”

“Thank you.” I smile. “Have you made much progress since last week?”

“I have one more song done – another two in the making.” He tells me. “’m not sure if they’ll all be used but I have a good start.”

“Uh, what are they about?” I’m now cross-legged on the couch again, staring at him. I smile with the familiarity of it all. Harry’s chewing his last piece of cake, so I elaborate. “Like, does the album have a theme or something?”

“Hm,” he swallows. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of different stuff going on at the moment. ‘m not sure.”

“Are you not sure or do you not want to share?”

“Ah, a little of both.” Harry chuckles, but I swear I catch a glimpse of apprehension in his expression. I think my eyes are deceiving me when his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. What is he hiding?

I try to persuade him. “C’mon, it’s me! I had your phone for two weeks and I didn’t snoop a thing!”

“Uh,” He puts his plate down on the centre table and does the same to mine. I raise an eyebrow. “You’ll soon see, I promise you’ll be one of the firsts to have a listen.”

I make a face – unsure of what to take from it.

“Don’t make that face.” Harry laughs, poking my cheek with his finger. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. I just don’t want to freak you out.”

I don’t take his answer as he intends to. Instead, I become even more suspicious. “How would your album freak me out?”

“Ellie…”

“Harry.” I mimic him. “Tell me.”

He sighs. “You’re so stubborn.” I smile as he shakes his head, seemingly convinced. “There might be a song or two about you.”

I feel my eyes widen. My heart races. What did he just say?

“See? You’re freaked out.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, waiting for me to react. I open my mouth to say something. Anything. But I’m not sure what to make of it. What are the songs about? Does he mean it in a friendly way? Is he even planning to use them?

“Why?” I finally ask, my voice low. I can’t take my eyes off of him, who closes his own for a second before opening them up and opening his mouth to speak.

“I think you know why.”

“I really don’t.”

“I could say it,” Harry pauses and I notice the moment he chooses his next words, determination flashing through his eyes. “Or I could show you.”

My eyes widen again and I’m at loss for words – does he mean…?

Suddenly, he drags himself on the couch and I have a warm hand on my left cheek. He tilts his head slightly, as if to ask permission, and I don’t even realize I have nodded my head until he brings his other hand to the nape of my neck and he kisses me.

Though it takes me a second before I realize what’s actually happening, I respond by pressing my own lips to his, covering them hard. I bring my own hand to rest on his, still on my cheek, and he takes it as a sign to deepen the kiss, bringing me closer with his reassuring grip. My other hand goes straight to his chest, gripping his t-shirt and bringing him to me, as if I’m willing to fight gravity to have his body as close to mine as humanly possible.

I think he notices we can’t get any closer with my legs crossed, so he brings his hands down to my legs and lifts me just enough to bring me halfway through his lap. Our lips don’t part as he does so, but we both release a content sigh as my butt lays on his thigh.

We don’t have time to think about what we’re doing, though, as he immediately takes my top lip in between his – a quiet groan exiting his body. I grip him by his shoulders, allowing the kiss to deepen once again.

We need air, however, so we both back away slightly. Our foreheads are touching when we both open our eyes and stare at each other. I immediately feel myself blushing, realization hitting me like a truck over the speed limit.

“I’ve been dying to do that for a very long time.” Harry whispers, pecking my lips once more, before he lets his head hit the couch’s pillow behind him. A giggle erupts from his chest and I can’t fight the smile that breaks through my lips.

“Oh God.” I hide my face on his neck, pure bliss, with a dash of embarrassment, invading my body at the same time. His arms wrap themselves around me and I decide I don’t want to think about anything else.

I want to be here, with him. I want to shut my insecurities and kiss the hell out of this man once more.

“I know you don’t want a relationship,” I close my eyes when his soft words hit my ears. “But I feel like I’ll regret it if I don’t take a shot anyway.”

“Harry…”

“Just,” He bites the inside of his lower lip. “Let’s hang out like we’ve been doing… but kissing in between.” I pull my head back just enough to look up at him. He stares back at me with a hint of a smile. “Don’t think, just answer me right now – do you think that would be nice?”

I’m nodding my head just enough for him to take it as an answer. “Yes.” I whisper. “There’s no doubt about that. But-”

“No buts. Don’t think about it.” He holds me tighter to him. “No labels – no anything. We’ll just be trying. Okay?”

My heart races as I think about what he’s suggesting. Will I be able to just go with the flow? To not think about what every gesture means – every peck on the lips, every hug, every cuddle? I’m almost certain I won’t – it’s against my nature.

So, I’m not sure why I’m nodding my head a second after and planting kiss on his neck, proceeding to rest my head on his shoulder and beginning an hour-long cuddle.

¨

D E C E M B E R

I think I’m going to die.

It’s been two days since I’ve seen Harry (or if you prefer: two days since we kissed like the world depended on it). We were supposed to have dinner yesterday, however I had the world’s biggest headache and fell asleep at six p.m.. I think Harry thought I was ignoring him, only realizing it was serious when I sent him a video message at midnight (when I transferred from the couch to the bed), looking like the newest addition to the The Walking Dead cast (playing a walker, obviously).

I’m not sure what prompted this flu, but it sure has progressed quickly. I’m still lying on the couch, a blanket wrapped around me, when my phone buzzes next to me.

Open the door for me please

I look down on my clothes while I get up from the couch, realizing I’m still in my pyjamas. The trousers have little lambs on them and the shirt is actually the face of one but, right now, I couldn’t care less. I have no energy to change. Instead, I wrap the blanket over me and make the way to the front door.

I feel a shiver come from the tips of my toes and spread through my body and I squeeze the blanket around me, sneezing afterwards. I huff, suddenly feeling hot. I leave the door opened and make my way back to the couch as Harry’s taking his time to come up.

My body has never ached this much and I let out a small cry while lying down again. My mom always told me I’m a big baby when sick but she should see me now – I can be even worse when sick and on my own.

After a few minutes, I finally hear the lift doors open and the footsteps that follow. I try to turn enough to see the front door from here, but since the couch faces the wall opposite to it, I quickly give up.

“El?”

“In here.” I answer, barely lifting an arm. “What took you so long?”

He doesn’t need to answer as he comes into my line of vision and I see the big Christmas tree he’s carrying.

“Hi,” Harry peeks from the side of the tree. “Where should I put this?”

The flu must have affected my thought process because I take a few extra seconds to respond. “Did you just buy me a tree?”

“Duh.” Harry chuckles, deciding to let it on the floor for a second. “You were upset earlier, so I brought it to you. Now you can have your tree up on December 1st, like tradition.”

When I woke up this morning, my first thought was that I was supposed to go buy a Christmas tree in the morning and decorate it in the evening. Since I was little, my tree always went up on December 1st. Therefore, to say I was upset was an understatement – I made sure I shared my disappointment with everyone I knew, including Harry.

I pout, as if I’m about to cry. “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

Harry laughs, leaning down to plant a kiss on my temple. My lips curve in small smile as he sits by my side. “How’re you feeling?”

“My body hurts and I think I might have a fever.” I answer, pressing my cheek onto his palm when he cups my face. His hand’s a bit cold, but it is his hand. I decide it’s worth it. “I feel like shit. I probably look like it too.”

He moves his hand to my forehead and, then, takes a few hair strands out of my face. “You’re warm. Have you checked your temperature?”

I regrettably shake my head.

Harry purses his lips. “Do you have a thermometer?”

“In the bathroom.”

“Wait a sec, I’m going to get it.” He stands up and heads to the bathroom.

He comes back after a minute, handing me the thermometer. I accept it, placing it below my pyjama’s shirt without another word. Meanwhile, Harry finally decides to take his coat off. I know the room temperature is too high, since I made sure I set the heater on the maximum temperature a few hours ago, so it’s not really a surprise when he decides to take off his black hoodie too, settling for a white t-shirt. I shiver just by looking at him, though.

“While we wait, tell me where to put the tree.”

“It goes on that corner. You have to move the TV cabinet a little.”

He nods, jumping into action. I lie still as he drags the cabinet further away until he thinks it’s enough to fit the tree. He’s securing it up when the thermometer beeps. He doesn’t listen, so I sit up a little and drop my eyes to the black and white screen showing 38,5oC. I pout, placing it on the table and lying back again.

I’m covering my face with the blanket when Harry turns back to me. He snickers and closes the distance between himself and the couch, probably taking a peek at the thermometer on the way. He grabs the blanket and uncovers my face.

“You need to take something for the fever.” He tells me as if I’m a big baby. “Tell me where it is so I can grab it for you.”

“It’s in the cabinet above the microwave,” I mumble. I watch as he gets up, waiting until he comes back with medicine and water to continue. “God, I hate being sick.”

He half smiles. “I can see that.”

I eye him, as if daring him to say another word.

“Even your dog ran away from you,” Harry has the audacity to laugh. “I saw her snuggled in the bathroom.”

I make a face. “I take it back, you’re not kind. You’re mean.”

“’m sorry,” he chuckles, taking the water from me and placing it on table. “Lie down while I cut the net on the tree. We’ll leave it be for a few hours until we decorate.”

“We?” I ask. “You do know you’re doing it alone, right? I can’t move!”

“Let the medicine take effect and then we’ll see about that.” He orders. “Maybe take a nap. I’ll walk Honey and watch Netflix while you’re at it.”

I get comfy, gazing at him as he cuts the net and frees the branches. I’m thinking how nice it’d be to have a photo of this moment when I black out.

The first thing I notice when I wake is the lack of light coming in through the windows - I must have been asleep for a few hours. The second thing I notice is Harry sitting at the end of the couch.

I take a few seconds to look at him. He’s focused on whatever he’s watching (I don’t turn so he doesn’t notice movement), running his index finger on his lower lip and squinting his eyes a little when he listens to specific parts. He’s wearing his hoodie again and his hair is a little more tamed today, which makes me smile.

I decide I’ve stared enough, so I turn a little and his eyes immediately find me.

“Hey.” I whisper, stretching just enough to test how my body feels. Still hurts a little. “What time it it?”

“A little over six,” He tells me without checking. “You’ve been asleep for two hours. I’ve taken Honey out and searched for your Christmas decorations.”

“Did you find ‘em?”

“Yes,” He points to the boxes on the floor, with a sleeping Honey next to them. “You told me this morning you couldn’t possibly go down to the garage. I just needed to find the key and which door to open.”

I giggle. “Did you take long?”

“Nah.” He smiles. “Do you feel better?”

“My head’s not hurting that much, but I still feel like a truck ran me over.”

“I went to the pharmacy on our walk,” he signs between him and Honey. “I bought Afrin for your blocked nose and more Ibuprofen.” He doesn’t notice the face I pull, so he continues. “I also brought that water bottle from my car so you drink more water. It’s full.”

I look over to the table and notice the rainbow letters spelling ‘treat people with kindness’ over the bottle. He has the same sentence written over his black hoodie. “Are you always surrounded by your own merch?”

“Maybe.” He laughs. “Anyway, you think you can help me decorate the tree?”

“I can take the baubles and bows out of the boxes while you put the lights on.” I offer, choosing something I can do while sitting down. “Do you think you can handle that?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me to move them over at least ten times, but I’ll do it anyway.”

I laugh because he’s right.

For the next twenty minutes, Harry struggles with the lights, taking steps back and forward as he changes the spots he places the lights on. I try not to notice the cute frown that appears on his face every time he’s indecisive, focusing on my task instead, but it’s a rather difficult thing to do.

I find myself looking back at him more than I care to admit.

I’ve acknowledged that I’ve always had an interest in Harry. That’s the truth – he had the ability to suck me in right from that first day. However, I find that, as of lately, I feel the overwhelming need to watch his every movement. Every frown, pout or raised eyebrow. Every smile, grin or laugh. I want to hear every word he has to say.

Harry steps away from the tree again. This time, though, he nods his head and looks at me. I push the scary thoughts away and look over at the tree, nodding my own head in the process.

“Nice job.”

He seems surprised. “You like it?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “There’s not a spot missing. You’ve done well.”

“Thanks, I’ve not done this in a long time.”

I lie back on the couch, surrounded by baubles. I pull the blanket a little tighter, even though I’m not as cold as before. “What do you mean?”

“Usually, my mom already has the tree up when I get home for Christmas.” He explains, accessing all the baubles beside me on the couch, plus the little red bows on the floor. “Are we supposed to use all of these?”

“That depends on the colour scheme we choose.”

“Colour scheme?!” His eyes widen.

I giggle. “Red and white or red and gold?”

Harry looks at the baubles on more time, before telling me his preference. “Let’s go red and gold. What d’you think?”

“Seems good. C’mon, I’ll help with this part.” I say as I get up from the couch, leaving the blanket behind. “So,” I choose a bauble and go over to the tree. “Your mom puts the tree up before you go home. What about your house? Do you not have a tree here?”

“I don’t.” He places his own bauble beside mine as he answers.

I look over at him, mouth slightly opened in surprise. What does he mean, he doesn’t have a tree? “Why?”

“Sometimes I’m in LA, sometimes I go on vacation.” He shrugs. “I don’t see the point if I’m not spending Christmas there.”

“But the leading up to Christmas is the most fun!” I argue while we get new ornaments. “What about this Christmas? You’ve been in London for a while. Are you planning on going on holiday?”

He shakes his head in response. “I don’t know what to tell you,” He chuckles. “I guess my definition of home is a little messed up for now. For Christmas, anyway, my home is Holmes Chapel. I’m fine if I have no tree wherever I am, as long as I have one there.”

I stare at him, not sure if I find his situation quite adorable or a bit worrying. He notices my indecisiveness, holding me by the shoulders and dragging me back to the couch.

“Don’t read too much into it,” He says while handing me a bow. “I never even thought about it.”

“But that’s sad, Harry!” I argue, pouting. “You haven’t decorated a tree in what, four years?”

“More like six.” He’s fighting a smile, though I don’t understand why. “I haven’t missed it, I promise! Let’s go back to decorating yours before you get too tired to stand, alright?”

I do as he says, though I’m thinking on how I can improve his Christmas spirit this year. I think about the Memory Lane’s Christmas layout and make it a point to show him my plans. Maybe I can persuade him to join me next week to make it happen.

We work beside each other for another few minutes, until I get too tired and land back on the couch. I don’t think Harry minds when I tell him to place the other ornaments himself while I give him orders, though I’m not sure he appreciates when I tell him to stand by the tree so I can take a few photos. In fact, he rolls his eyes (he does fix his hair and hoodie before posing, so that must mean he doesn’t mind that much, right?).

I lie down with my eyes closed while Harry puts the ornaments we didn’t use back on the boxes and puts them by the front door. I hear Honey following him through the house and my lips curve into a small smile, picturing it in my head.

Harry offers to make dinner and we end up eating scrambled eggs and toast, as I can’t think of eating anything more. We’re back on the couch shortly after, Harry’s lap serving as my pillow as we watch The Holiday to keep my little tradition going. He’s running his fingers through my blonde locks and I fight the urge to close my eyes, though it’s getting harder by the minute.

Cameron Diaz has not yet discovered that Jude Law’s a widower when I give up. I close my eyes and sigh, suddenly feeling like I wouldn’t mind if this turned out to be a new tradition. Falling asleep on Harry’s lap isn’t so bad.

“El?”

I hm when I hear his voice, not quite opening my eyes.

“You should take a shower and go to bed, babe,” he takes the hair out of my face so he can see me, so I open my eyes just enough to look at him. “Can you breathe fine?”

I shrug. “I think I have to sleep with a few pillows tonight.”

He’s nodding in understanding when I hear myself again. “You could stay.” It’s barely a whisper, but I’m sure my eyes give away the panic I feel when I register the words I just said. “I mean, if you want to. Uh. You know what? Nevermind, I-”

“El.” He stops me with a chuckle. “Of course I’ll stay with you.”

I hold back a smile. “Thank you.”

“Now go take a shower and change your pyjamas,” He shoos me. “I have to make a bed out of this couch.”

I furrow my eyebrows as I get up. “This couch is small.” I say, folding the blanket and droping it on the couch. “I can’t sleep on here and we’re practically the same height. You can sleep on the bed.”

Harry smirks. “Are you sure, Frosty?”

“I’m sure you won’t take advantage of a sick girl, yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Also, I look like shit. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to anyway.”

“Are you one-hundred percent sure about that?”

I stop when I notice his smile. “Uh, yeah?”

“Because you’re the most beautiful sick person I’ve seen in my life.”

“Uh.” I cough. Unfortunately, it’s not an awkward cough. As a matter of fact, it’s a side effect of having the flu and I have to take a gulp of water to calm it down. “Ugh. Do you stand by your sentence now?”

Harry looks smug. “One-hundred percent.”

&&

How’re you feeling?

Much better, I can finally breathe again

Not snoring anymore, then?

You’ll never sleep next to me again!!

You wanna bet on that?

Anyway, I’m leaving my sister’s birthday dinner now

Do you want a piece of cake?

First: you’re sounding way too confident

Second: you’re not bringing me a piece of your sister’s cake

Why not?

She offered!

Fine, I’ll have a bit

But say thank you for me!

&&

It’s Friday when Harry and I can both align our schedules to work on Memory Lane’s Christmas layout.

I’ve ran my ideas past my aunt as soon as I felt better, going on shopping trips with both her and Amy. Though I’d prefer not to, I also had to ask them if it was fine by them to have Harry come by to help. Unsurprisingly, Amy gave me a knowing smile and said it was fine by her. My aunt, however, stared at me for a few seconds before breaking into a grin and nodding.

I close the store’s blinders as soon as we close, leaving the four of us protected from prying eyes.

“Let’s start!” I clap, picking the few pieces of paper I brought along. “Aunty and Amy, you’ll be doing the display. Do you have all the little bears you’ll need?” I eye both of them, nodding when I see the

huge box Amy picks up. “Right. Harry, you and me will move the furniture around so we can put the Christmas tree in the middle. I’ll need you to pick up the boxes, that thing is huge.”

He nods assertively, trying to hold in a grin. “Right, m’am.”

I eye him. “It’s a serious task.”

“’Course it is.” He chuckles. “I just like when you’re bossy.”

Amy coughs and I turn to her, catching my aunt’s knowing grin in the process.

I blush, hitting Harry’s bicep. “Shush.”

“What?”

“We’ll pick up those boxes now,” I say loudly, more for my aunt to hear than Harry. I grab his arm and drag him through the back door. I wait until we go downstairs to the storehouse to turn to him, arms crossed. “You can’t say things like that in front of my aunt!”

“I didn’t say anything bad!”

“It’s how you said it.” I eye him. “She picks up on things fast. She’s also super close to my mom, she’ll open her mouth before we even leave the store!”

He nods. “Alright-”

I’m agreeing with him as he’s saying “Only if I get a kiss first”.

He grins, closing the distance between us. “I haven’t kissed you since that first time,” He comments, taking my hand on his. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you got sick on purpose.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause kissing you is such a burden.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, a grin breaking through his lips. “Oh, you like it, then?”

“Shut up.”

“Alright.”

He’s still chuckling when he brings his mouth to mine. He starts slow, but soon his tongue is in my mouth like he’s been there his whole life and he knows exactly what to do. He wraps his hands around me, bringing me closer to him – our chests come together beneath the Christmas sweaters I brought for everyone and I bring my hand to his hair, pulling him towards me just as he starts to slow down.

He gives me a small peck on the corner of my mouth before he pulls back, a grin in his face.

“Uh.” I unconsciously touch my lips, feeling my lips curve upwards to mirror his grin. “Right.”

“Should we go?”

I nod, though I burst in laughter just as we grab the first box.

He’s laughing too, though he seems lost as to why. “What?”

“I mean,” I shake my head, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. “If you’d told me we’d be here today, making out behind my aunt and best friend’s backs, I’d tell you you were crazy.”

“I wouldn’t.”

I widen my eyes at his response. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly that.” He grins, pulling me closer to him again. “I mean that I’ve always had a thing for you, though you didn’t seem too interested.”

“What do you mean I didn’t seem interested?” I cry. “I was a blubbering mess the first time we spoke!”

“Well,” He shrugs. “I didn’t know if you were shy with everyone or just with me.”

I rest my forehead on his shoulder. “I’ve had a crush on you since that first time.”

I feel him laughing, before he keeps going. “The feeling’s mutual.”

I pull back just enough to look at him, failing to hold back a happy smile. ““Shall we go back now?” He nods.

I give him a peck and we both go back to our boxes.

Neither Amy or my aunt say anything when we come back up, both carrying huge boxes. We end up bringing them all up before re-arranging the furniture.

We start on the tree shortly after. I help Harry with the lighting, since this one’s a little more complicated than mine was – we need a ladder, after all. Harry’s wrapped in fairy lights, wearing a Christmas sweater and a Santa hat when I take a picture of him, promising to send him later so he can text it to his mom (I also set it as my contact picture). Then, we proceed to the decoration and both my aunt and Amy come to help us.

It’s a few hours until we’re finally done and both of them leave, leaving Harry and I alone, under the pretence of taking Instagram pictures.

Instead, we lay down on the floor next to the Christmas tree, making out like two adolescents.

&&

Should I buy popcorn for our B99 marathon?

Sure

Are you coming before or after dinner?

I have to organize myself, I need to walk and bathe Honey today

Before

In fact, I’m coming right now

Wait for me to give her a bath, I want to see that!!

&&

It’s December 10th. Some would say you still have loads of time to buy Christmas gifts, while others will have theirs already bought and wrapped, stuffed under their tree and ready to go. As for me, I like to start once the month begins - although, most likely, I’ll still have something to buy by December 23rd.

That’s how Harry and I end up on Regent Street on a Monday. It’s still early – barely fifteen minutes after nine, but we established from the start that we should go early so we’d avoid crowds. We both have hot drinks on our hands – coffee for him, hot chocolate for me – while we walk and decide which stores we want to go in.

I’ve decided I want to give a Timberland watch to my brother, though I have no clue what to give to my mom. Harry, on the other hand, has told me he has a lot of gifts to buy for children, as he has a lot of cousins and friends’ kids. We decided we would start with clothes and accessories, and end on a toy’s store, as I have to buy something for Max too.

When I realize, Harry’s turning to the Burberry store. I gulp, it suddenly hitting me just with whom I’m shopping. Nevertheless, I follow him, holding my cup of hot chocolate tightly with both hands.

There are two women working the store. They both have a sparkling dress on and their makeup is flawless. Suddenly, I feel underdressed, in my jeans and furry coat. If this is the kind of store Harry’s going to drag me in, I’m glad I, at least, wore my heeled boots today.

The first one eyes my cup as I take a sip and I notice she’s about to tell me off, but then she looks to the man next to me and her eyes grow in size.

Her scowl instantly turns into a grin and she walks over to us.

"Mr. Styles, how can we help you today?” Her tone is overly sweet, though I’m sure that wouldn’t be the one she was going to use on me. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“Hi,” Harry smiles at her. “We’ll just look around for a bit, thank you.”

I move behind him when he walks over to one of the displays, holding my cup carefully - if I spill the hot drink on this floor, I’ll have nightmares for a week.

“What are you looking for?” I ask while admiring the trench coats.

“I think my mom likes these handbags.” He runs his index finger on his lip, an almost unnoticeable frown appearing in his expression.

I smile, deciding to walk the few steps between us and look over at the handbags.

“They’re pretty!”

“’M not sure which to buy, though.” He seems undecided, looking from bag to bag. “My sister usually comes with me when I buy stuff for my mom.”

“Well, I can try to help you,” I offer. “But you can also wait for your sister input. Are you seeing her again soon?” I ask, since I knew he was with her over the weekend.

“She’s coming over for dinner next Wednesday.” He answers, picking a handbag up from the display. “I think I’m good with your help though. What do you think of this one?” He’s turning it around so he can analyse every angle.

"I like it,” I nod. It’s a tote bag, Burberry’s new model, with a simple enough design, though it has a belt as its main feature. The one Harry picked up comes in white and blue, but I personally think it’s a safer choice if he chooses a standard colour. “I’d prefer it in grey or black. Maybe maroon. Does your mom have a go-to colour?”

“She likes black.” He puts it down and picks up the black one. “Are we sure about the model? Should we go for this one or for one of those?”

I walk over to the display he just pointed out. Its main feature is the sides, where they printed Burberry’s classical pattern. I purse my lips, looking over to the first one again to compare both.

“How many handbags does your mom own?”

“I don’t know!” He seems offended that I just asked such a question. I chuckle. “A few? I gave her a Michael Kors for her birthday last year.”

“Then I’d give her that one.” I point to the handbag still in his hands. ��This one’s great if you don’t have a lot cause it’s a timeless design. But if she has more designer bags, I’d choose that one.” I explain, my eyes slowly dropping to the price tag attached to one of these, since I could use a nice handbag to take to work in January.

I gulp at the price, quickly turning back to Harry.

“You’re good, then?”

“I think so,” He nods. “Do you want to take a look around?”

“Nah, I’m good.” I shake my head, almost telling him this is all way over my pay check. I think he knows that, though. “Go pay, I’ll go finish my hot chocolate outside.”

I eye the handbags one more time and leave, enjoying the little sun we’re getting.

I take the time to finally tell my mom I’m going home on Saturday, as she’s been asking me just about every day since I got sick. According to her, I may have a relapse and I should be home so she can take care of me. I don’t tell her I was good enough in Harry’s care, as she’s better off without knowing that for now.

She’s also better off not knowing I only decided when I was going home this morning, when Harry told me he’s flying to Los Angeles next Sunday.

I can admit now that I wasn’t sure when I should head to Birmingham because I didn’t know when Harry was leaving London for Holmes Chapel. As much as I want to hit myself because of that, it’s the truth. I have come to terms that I want to spend as much time as I can with him and I’m not sure what’s going to happen in January, so I want to enjoy while I can.

I’m answering Amy’s snapchat with a selfie when Harry materializes next to me, jumping in on my picture. I nearly jump when I feel his lips on my cheek, holding their position until I get the shot. He pulls back, though he throws an arm around my shoulders and brings me to him just enough to plant a kiss on my temple.

I forget Amy and put the phone back in my pocket.

“There are people out, Harry.” I remind him, bringing my fingers to his wrist so he understands what I’m implying. I bite the inside of my cheek, missing the extra weight as soon as he withdraws his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I should be the one aware of that. Instead, I just want to touch you.”

I blush. “Alright, you can hold my pinky for the next minute.”

Even though he understands I’m joking, he hooks his little finger on mine. I laugh, but I really want to cry with what he’s making me feel. I look around us, spotting exactly five people – there’s a couple around their fifties on the other side of the street, a lady who looks like she could be my grandmother and a group of three guys that look like they rather listen to 21 Savage then Harry Styles.

I try not to think about how I can regret it later. Instead, I unlock our fingers and grab his hand. I agreed to trying – this is trying.

“El,” Harry warns, looking around us as well. “Thinking we’re in the clear doesn’t mean we actually are.”

“I know.” I nod, plastering a smile on my face, even though he just fuelled my fear. “I can see Timberland from here, though, let’s just enjoy until we get there and that’s it. Yeah?”

Harry laughs. “Alright. Your wish is my command.”

“You do realize I’m granting you your wish, right?” I wrinkle my nose. “You just said, and I quote, ‘I just want to touch you’. Needy much, Styles?”

“Yeah,” He nods his head vigorously. “I won’t even deny that. I am needy when it comes to you.”

I don’t even care that I’m blushing again. I bet he’s used to it by know. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. It’s been too many days since I last kissed you.”

“That’s on you – you could have dropped by yesterday.” I tease, since I know he wanted to but the producer he was meeting with dragged their session through the night.

“You’re mean to me.” He brings his hand to his heart, as if I just shot him. “Thanks for the selfie, by the way. Your grey-ish eyes and cute bun inspired me immensely.”

“Stop making me blush, Harry!” I groan, bumping my shoulder into his.

“Alright.” Harry laughs. “Anyway, I was thinking, do you want to come over for dinner of Wednesday?”

I gulp. “As in, dinner with you sister?”

“My sister and Michael, her boyfriend, yeah.” Harry nods, as if he didn’t just throw a damn bomb at me.

What am I supposed to do? Can I even say no without sounding like a bitch?

I pull a lock of hair behind my ear, trying my best not to look as nervous as I just became. “Uh, are you sure?”

“I can see your mind racing.” Harry chuckles, brushing his shoulder on mine. “It’s just dinner with my sister, she’s known about you for awhile anyway.”

“Knowing and meeting are two different things.” I point out.

He nods slowly. “It’s ok if you think it’s too fast. You can say no, El.”

“I’m not saying no.” I blurt. “You just took me by surprise. I’ll go.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” I stick my tongue out, just as we arrive in front of the store.

&&

Does your sister like cheesecake?

I think so, why?

I’m making dessert

I won’t say no to that

Also, bring Honey

Your sister’s not a dog person! I’m not taking Honey

She does like dogs, she was just teasing me that time

I miss Honey

Bring her to me!

Alriiiiight

&&

I arrive at Harry’s at five.

I don’t even bother to lock my car, as I’m holding Honey’s leash, a thermal bag with the cheesecake in and an enormous Christmas wreath. I don’t have enough hands to press Harry’s bell either, so I’m glad when he shows at the door when I’m still a few steps away from it.

Honey immediately tugs on the leash to get to him, so I let the leash go and she runs free. I try not to get jealous that she gets a hug before me, but I haven’t seen him yesterday and I want a hug too. I try not to fasten my pace.

“What have you got there?” Harry smiles, looking over from Honey to me.

“A Christmas wreath for your front door!” I return his wide smile, holding the wreath so he can see it clearly as I approach him. “I just thought you should have something in your house – especially with your sister coming and everything. I thought about getting a small Christmas tree – like, the really tiny ones, but I was ninety-nine per cent sure you wouldn’t have any baubles... so I got this instead. Do you like it?”

He chuckles. “Yes, I do like it.”

I’m now in front of Harry, waiting for him to stand up so I can greet him. He’s petting Honey while looking up at me, though. He could have been the needy one last Monday, but we’ve changed positions and I am the one wanting contact now.

Therefore, in a complete un-Ellie fashion, I bend down just enough to peck him on the lips.

Harry looks surprised, his eyes sparkling with amusement. I giggle, stepping beside him to get to the kitchen (my cheesecake needs to get to the freezer ASAP).

I feel his presence behind me just as I pass the front door, though he only makes it noticeable when I take the box out of the bag and put the dessert into the freezer. I’ve barely closed its door when Harry turns my body around and presses me to the fridge.

I gulp.

“Hi,” He grins, taking my bottom lip in between his a second later.

I let him deepen the kiss, feeling both breathless and the most alive at the same time. I join both my hands on the base of his neck, letting out a small whimper as his tongue touches mine. It’s probably not the time, but I find myself wondering how the hell did we get here.

He parts the kiss, making a way of small open-mouthed kisses from my mouth to my neck. I pant, giggling as a school girl. “Now,” I manage to say. “This puts my little peck in the corner.”

He laughs, his breathing hitting my neck. I squirm, suddenly ticklish. “Well, I liked it.”

“Good.” I bring him to my eye level again. “I liked it too, though I liked your version better.”

He doesn’t even bother to respond verbally, joining our lips together again.

“Uh,” I manage to say as I plant my hands on his cheeks to move his face backwards. “We have to hang the wreath, H.”

“We can do it later.” He tries to close the distance I created, pouting when I take a step to the side.

“We can do that later.” I laugh, taking enough pity to land my lips on his one last time – it’s quick, a peck at best. “Now c’mon, it’ll take five minutes.”

I think he wants to complain, but he does what I say.

Gemma petted Honey for the majority of the night, told me embarrassing stories of Harry and ate two pieces of my cheesecake by half past nine.

Though we started off making out in his kitchen, Harry and I both agreed we’d keep the PDA to a minimum (if any, really) in front of his sister. I was introduced as his friend. As I thought, Gemma knew all about Memory Lane, our switched phones and the sheenigans we’ve found ourselves in since then. I also believe she knows all about the kisses and ‘giving it a try’ but she doesn’t mention it, and neither do we.

I find myself sat next to her on the couch, talking about life. I tell her how scary it feels to go from studying interior design to actually working on the area, especially in a renown firm. She tells me her own experience and hands enough advices to calm my racing heart.

By the time Harry and Michael come join us (after the first five seconds of girly talk, they left the dinner table to go outside with Honey), Gemma and I have decided we want to watch the new A Christmas Prince movie on Netflix - neither of them decide to argue our choice, probably because they know better.

Everything goes downhill about ten minutes before the movie ends.

I don’t grab my phone from my pocket right when it buzzes for the first time. It’s a text, I can reply later. However, it keeps buzzing, so I give in and find a string of texts from Amy.

I know it’s bad right from the moment I read the first one.

I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but I think you should know

What is it?, I text her back right away, eyeing Harry from the corner of my eye. He’s been keeping his distance, even throughout the movie, so I don’t think he can read what we’re saying.

There’s a photo of you and Harry going around

She sends the picture right after and I want to excuse myself and hide in the bathroom. The picture is not bad – in fact, I know it could be a lot worse. Someone pictured Harry and I saying goodbye to each other when he dropped me off at Memory Lane. It’s a busy street at lunchtime, so we settled for a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek for him (Harry does love to give me forehead kisses, so he chose that spot this time around too).

What scares me the most is I thought no one was noticing us. I could have grabbed his hand like I did that morning – or worse, I could have kissed him goodbye.

His words ring in my mind - “Thinking we’re in the clear doesn’t mean we actually are”. He knew what he was saying, but I thought it would be fine. Was this the only photo from that day? What else did they have?

That’s not all though

What do you mean?

I found out because Ashley texted me

I cringe, feeling the need to close my eyes as I wait for her next text. Ashley was one of our colleagues in college – and not a nice one at that, so I only expect the worse. If Amy found out through her, it means Ashley saw the photo.

Amy seems to lack the words because, after what feels like forever, she ends up sending me a screenshot of their conversation. I read through it, feeling like someone just put a dagger through my stomach. I read through the texts quickly, feeling a knot when she gets her point across – she thinks I got into Taylor Howes because I have “friends in high places”.

Amy texts Please don’t freak out right after, but she’s too late.

I want to bring my legs up to my chest, hide my face in between my knees and sob.

This - this is what I was afraid of.

“El?”

I jump, startled. I look to Harry, then to the TV – the movie is over.

“Is everything alright?”

“Uh,” I try to come up with an excuse, fast. “I- I have to go.”

He furrows his eyebrows, standing up right after me. “Hey, what’s going on?” He grabs my forearm gently, his tone merely a whisper.

I look over at Gemma, who’s half asleep on her boyfriend’s shoulder. I’m torn between going without another word or saying goodbye. “Amy texted me.” I blurt. “She had a fight with her boyfriend, she asked if she could go over to my flat.I said yes.” I lie through my teeth. The urge to cry only deepens when I see his expression soften in understanding.

I feel like the worst person on Earth.

I end up saying goodbye to Gemma and Michael, standing by my story. I pick Honey up from her spot on Harry’s carpet and walk to the door with Harry behind me.

I barely let him give me a goodbye peck on the lips, before I turn and go home.

&&

El, can I come over today?

We need to talk

Ellie?

Don’t do this, let me talk to you

You can come by after seven.

&&

I’m lying on my couch, wondering how this is going to go when Harry knocks on my door – no text to give a girl a warning this time. I gulp at the same time Honey jumps from her spot to run to the door. Unlike the last few times he’s visited, I take my time to get there.

My heart is threatening to jump out of my chest. I want to start crying now, knowing fully well this is not going to end up well. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard when I open the door, I taste blood. I swallow, barely forcing a smile when I lay my eyes on him.

Harry frowns deeply when he looks at me. “You look tired.”

“Yeah,” I purse my lips. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

The truth is I lied in bed all night, wide awake, thinking about how could I ever let this happen. There was a reason why I didn’t want a boyfriend for the time being. I knew things almost never went perfectly – I had the perfect example at home. However, instead of listening to myself, I had to go and give it a try with Harry Styles.

He nods slightly, stopping to acknowledge Honey when she hits his leg with her tiny paw. “Hi there, baby,” he kneels to pet her. “Did you give your mommy lots of cuddles today?”

Despite the sadness that overwhelms me, my lips curve upwards. I want to take a picture of this moment and place it in my fridge so I can look back at it in a few months and see how things were.

Harry decides to pick her up and move to the couch, leaving me to close the door and drag my feet behind him.

I’m barely on the couch when he goes straight to the point

“There was no Amy yesterday, was there?” His tone is not accusatory, which eases my racing heart.

I shake my head. “No.”

He bites his lower lip as he nods. “You saw the photo.” It isn’t a question. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“The problem wasn’t the photo, necessarily.” I confess, barely holding his gaze. I’ve had enough time to decide how I want this conversation to go. I won’t lie to him. “There’s more to it.”

“Then tell me,” He asks, letting Honey go to the floor so he can focus his attention on me.

Instead of returning his gaze, however, I watch as Honey picks her toy from the floor and takes it to her small bed.

“You can talk to me, Ellie.”

I meet his eyes, sighing. “I don’t know if you noticed but my thesis project was ambitious. I worked my ass off. I think it was why Taylor Howes showed interest in me.” I watch as he nods, even if confused. I can tell he’s not sure where my train of thought is leading. “I had big partnerships as well, they were not easy to get – especially to me, as I don’t have any connections in the area. There’s a reason I didn’t let you come watch my thesis, Harry.” I confess, biting my lip hard.

I watch as realization hits him.

“I was afraid the jury wouldn’t take me seriously if they recognized you,” I make myself say the words, as I’m sure they’ll hurt him. “I was afraid they’d think you got me all the connections I had worked to get.”

He runs a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. “Okay.” He nods, as if he’s trying to accept it. I’m not sure if I want him to. “That’s not related to the photo, though. What happened?”

“Someone I know texted Amy last night,” I gather my thoughts. “She implied you got me the Taylor Howes internship.”

“That’s obviously bullshit.”

“Yes, you and me both know that.” I say. “But that photo burst the bubble I put us in, Harry. I can’t have people ask me about you on my first day! I won’t have my co-workers doubting my job. Worst, what if the partners think you did help me?”

I flinch when I catch a glimpse of hurt in his expression. I know I’m being extremely selfish. But I’m afraid not being selfish about this will bite me in the ass in a few years. I don’t want to be in my mother’s position.

I won’t be.

“I can’t take that photo down, Ellie.” His shoulders sag down, realizing he can’t do anything about it.

I want to cry when he lets out an exasperated sigh. “I know.”

“What do you want, then?” He stands up, walking towards the window and looking outside, as if it’ll make the situation any better. He turns back to me when I don’t answer immediately. “Do you want to end this?”

I feel my eyes fill with tears. “I-”

Harry looks as if I just slapped him. “You do.”

“I don’t know.” I cry, getting up as well. “I just know I can’t be seen with you. People will doubt me.”

“You know,” He seems as if he can’t believe he’s living this moment. “I thought our biggest enemy was your past and it’d be okay because I could prove I would never hurt you.” He laughs in irony, quickly concluding his train of thought. “But I now realize I’m fighting myself and that’s a battle I’m never going to win.”

“I’m sorry.” I go to him, catching both his arms with my hands before he can escape. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt either of us.” I choke back a sob. “I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid we’ll break up one day anyway and I’ll be the one who has to deal with the consequences.”

“Ellie,” He shakes his head. “You can’t be always expecting things to end. We could work out, babe, I know-”

I’m shaking my head as the words leave his mouth. “You said so yourself, Harry, it’s happened to you before. Your last girlfriends, you were in different stages and-”

“Don’t.” He points a finger at me, setting himself free from my hold. “Don’t do that. My past girlfriends were nothing like you. There’s no comparison there.”

“Still,” I try to argue.

He doesn’t let me. “No. Both of them had to travel as much as I did – we’d never see each other. God, they wanted to be seen with me!”

“We’ll never see each other, Harry!” I yell, ignoring the last part. “You’re going to Los Angeles, aren’t you? You have your whole life there! I’ll stay here!”

I have thought about it a lot since last night. How will it be when he goes to Los Angeles? Will I trust him to be the man I know he is, or will doubt creep in and I’ll end up sabotaging things for myself? What will be my reaction when a photo of him with a girl finds its way to the Internet?

The reasonable part of me wants to think I’ll be fair; but I have my father’s example to go on and I just know I won’t always be understanding.

“I might not!” He yells back, pushing his hair back when he realizes what he just said. His expression gives it away – he didn’t want to share that. “I asked Jeff if I could record the album in London. I didn’t want to go back with you here.” He confesses in a whisper.

I don’t feel the two tears that fall from my eyes until Harry takes two steps towards me and wipes them away with his fingers.

“I’m sorry.” I cry. “You- you shouldn’t move back because of me. I-”

“This is such bullshit.” He turns back around, clearly frustrated. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you?”

I feel myself choking.

“You said you weren’t ready for a relationship, but I feel like if I was any other bloke, you’d be all in by now.” He says, his voice sturdy.

“That’s just it, though. I don’t want it with anyone else, but I can’t be with you.”

“That’s it, then? We’re done, just like that?”

“The time is just not right,” I try to explain the best I can. “If it was in a year. A few months, even,” I’m not sure what I’m saying, but I keep going, even if he’s shaking his head. “I’m sorry, H. I don’t know what to say, I-”

“You don’t need to say anything.” He pauses in the middle of my living room, taking a second to asess the situation we found ourselves in. “It’s just so unfair, Ellie.” He shakes his head, grabbing his coat.

I open my mouth to stop him from leaving, but nothing comes out.

I watch as he leaves, feeling my heart break in two.

&&

I’m sorry I took off, I want to talk to you before I go to LA

I’m back home for Christmas already

I’m sorry

&&

It’s Christmas Eve today. It’s also my birthday.

I’ve been awake since eight, since my lovely brother broke a glass in the kitchen and it stirred me awake. By half past ten, I’m driving myself nuts. I keep looking at my phone, hoping for a simple Happy Birthday text from Harry, even if I haven’t heard from him since the Friday after our falling out, when he texted me saying he wanted to talk.

I might not deserve it, but my heart aches for it. I miss him.

It’s been two and half hours of agony. I don’t think my mom and brother know what to do with me anymore. They’ve given me my gifts and tried to engage conversation a zillion times, but I keep checking my phone. I don’t have the right to expect a birthday text when I broke things off because of who he is, but I can’t help it.

I got home at about two o’clock in the morning after our fight - if you call it a fight, considering we were both more upset than angry with each other, and as soon as my mom opened the door for me, I broke down in tears; she asked me about it that night, but I shook my head and decided not to share.

Since then, I feel like both she and my brother have been walking on eggshells around me. Jasper has tried to ask me about it as well, probably my mother’s doing, but I shut him down too. I think I’m afraid they’ll tell me I’m making a mistake. I know I’m being selfish – however, I don’t know how not to be.

I decide to go for a walk with Honey in order to clear my head, and I decide to leave my phone purposely at home, hoping it does me good. There’s a woodland near my mom’s house, so I take Honey by the leash and wander around it for what feels like forever. My mind’s been racing for days. I don’t know if I’m making the right choice. I don’t want to hurt him, but at the same time I need to protect myself.

I’m tugging on Honey’s leash to stop her from heading to a poodle when I hear footsteps behind me.

Though I’ve always felt relatively safe around here, I hold my breath, immediately equating what to do if I turn around to see a creepy guy staring at me.

When I turn my head slightly, however, who I see from the corner of my eyes stops me altogether.

Harry smiles, taking a few steps towards me. “Happy birthday.”

I look back ahead, trying to figure out if my mind’s playing tricks on me. I keep listening to the sound of crushed leaves, however, so I turn my body to him.

“You-” I gulp. “You’re here.”

He nods with a chuckle. “I’m here.”

I grab his arm, proving to myself it is him. I’m not having Bella Swan’s type of hallucinations in New Moon – this is him, right here.

“Shouldn’t you be at home?”

“I was at home,” He explains. “But then I got in the car and drove to you.”

I smile, my right-hand tightening around his forearm. My left one is still holding Honey’s leash, who clearly hasn’t seen him yet.

“I,” I look for words, my heart threatening to jump. “I don’t deserve this.” I shake my head. “You shouldn’t-”

“Hey.” He stops me, placing both his hands on my shoulders.

My hand drops from his forearm and I try to look to the side but he moves his head in that direction, forcing me to look right at him.

“I’m not proud of how I handled the situation back in London,” He declares. “I shouldn’t have left. Your feelings are valid and I should respect them.”

I shake my head, covering my eyes with my now-free hand. After a second, I take it back and sigh. “I’m being selfish, H. You have every right to be mad at me.”

“Well, I’m not anymore.” He shrugs. “What we have is worth it. I like you, El. I’m falling for you.”

I feel like I’m floating, surrounded my tree branches and yellows, oranges and browns. I want to grab him by the neck and kiss him like I’ve never kissed anyone in my life.

Instead, I stand still – looking at him without blinking.

“You can take a step back – hell, you can take a few steps back.” Harry grins. “I’ll take a step back too. I’ll follow your lead. When you’re ready – when it doesn’t feel like a problem anymore, you can come find me.”

I’m in denial. “That’s not fair to you.”

“Did I ask you if it was fair?” He doesn’t follow my lead on this, though. Instead, he chuckles, slowly dragging my body to his. “I’m telling you I’ll still be here if you want me, whether if you think it’s fair or not.”

“I’m really not worthy all that, Styles.” I finally grin, letting his sweet words sink in. “Thanks for liking me back, though.”

“Back?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I laugh. “Yes. It might not seem like it, but I like you back. Probably too much.”

“Can I kiss you right now?” He asks, his breath hitting my cheek from his close proximity. “I promise it’ll be the last until you say so. But it’s Christmas – and your birth-”

I interrupt him, getting in the tips of my toes to press my lips on his. I kiss him slowly, his head following mine when I drop down on my heels. His fingers intertwine on my blonde locks, bringing me closer and closer to him. I sigh, holding on to him for as long as I can because, when we part, I don’t know when it will happen again.

I’m not done yet when Honey comes to us barking, clearly noticing him just now. I step back, laughing.

“Hello, girl.” Harry laughs, kissing my temple before kneeling. “How’ve you been?”

“She’s loving the country life.” I kneel down next to them. “We’ve been coming here for walks the last few days.”

“’s a nice spot,” He smiles. “Your mom told me where to find you.”

I widen my eyes. “Oh my God. You’ve met her?”

“Your brother, too.” He nods. “They seemed startled for a second.”

“I didn’t tell them about you.” I confess.

“I figured.” He doesn’t seem to think much about it. “They mentioned it all made sense now, though. You must not be as sly as you think.”

I blush. “Yeah – uh, I haven’t exactly been in a cheery mood.”

“Well, I brought presents to cheer you up.” He gives Honey a last pet and stands up. “Let’s go back?”

“Sure,” I stand next to him, handing him the leash. “You can walk her now. I know you like it.”

“Thanks.” He kisses my cheek. “Last one, I promise.”

I chuckle. “What did you tell your mom to justify leaving on Christmas eve?”

“Uh,” He messes with the hat he’s wearing. “She might have helped make the final decision.”

“You go around and tell everyone everything, don’t you?” I shake my head in disbelief.

“Hey!” He fakes outrage. “Just my mom and my sister.”

I eye him.

“Fine, I obviously told Mitch and Sarah too,” He shrugs. “Also, Jeff – but he’s my manager and he thought it was weird that I wanted to stay in London.”

“What about Grimmy?” I raise an eyebrow, recalling a previous conversation we had. “You have such a big mouth.”

He laughs, resigned.

I ask him how was Los Angeles and he tells me he spent his time in meetings for the album. I nod, just listening to him talk – he’s thinking he’ll have the album ready by February, probably release it by April/May, where he’ll announce a new tour.

By the time we get back to my house, Harry’s told me everything that I missed in the past week. I think he doesn’t believe me when I tell him there’s nothing to tell on my end – but I don’t share that all I did was sulk around.

“By the way,” He turns to me when we’re crossing the road. “I invited your mom and brother for lunch. It seemed rude to take you and leave them behind.”

I gasp. “Why are you so nice?”

He laughs, stopping by his car on the driveway. I take the leash from him, letting Honey sniff my mom’s flowers. I notice she’s peeking in the kitchen window so I wave to her – she widens her eyes and takes two steps back.

I grin, turning back to Harry.

“I have two gifts for you.” He states, with two bags in his hands. “This one I know you’ll like.” He hands me the biggest one and I grab it, handing him the leash in return.

I lean on the car, opening it slowly. I gasp when I see a Burberry handbag inside. It’s the design I liked back in the store. I thought I had been pretty discrete, but he must have been looking back at me more than I thought.

“Harry, this is so expensive,” I’m shaking my head as the words leave my mouth. “I saw the price tag on it at the store.”

He dismisses me. “I can afford it and you liked it. Just accept it, alright?”

I give him a disapproval noise, though I open a big smile to thank me afterwards. “What’s the other one?”

“This,” He twists it around. “Is the sentimental gift. I hope you like it.”

I put the handbag on his car seat for the time being, taking the other present from him. There is a wrapped present inside the bag, so I take it and unwrap it carefully. I frown when I see the vinyl inside.

The cover is a photo he took of me in the park – I have my eyes slightly squeezed and my eyes never looked so bright, while my blonde hair, falling down my shoulders, looks almost golden. I smile, though I don’t get what’s inside. I turn it around, meeting the 10-song track list written on the back. James Bay’s Us, George Ezra’s All My Love and Lany’s If You See Her are just a few of the listed songs.

“These are all my favourites,” I look up to him, my lips curving upwards. “Did you make me a playlist?”

“Look closer.”

I frown, until I finally read ‘By Harry Styles’ on the left corner. My eyes widen. “You recorded all of these?”

He’s looking back at me with a huge grin. “I hope I don’t disappoint.”

“Don’t think you can, even if you really wanted to.” I shake my head forcibly. “Thank you, H.” I take the step between us and wrap my arms around him. “I love it!“ I plant a kiss on his cheek.

He grins and we both head inside, where my brother raises his eyebrows at me and I make a face, hoping to God he’ll play nice.

To no-one’s surprise, they’re nearly best friends by the time lunch is served.

¨

J A N U A R Y

Good luck on your first day tomorrow!

Thank you, H

&&

I went to Memory Lane yesterday, found the watch you chose for me

Ahh, good! Did you like it?

Of course

How’ve you been?

Been here a week and I’m already in a big project

Went home at 10 pm yesterday

Ahh, good luck Frosty!

You can do this!!

&&

What have you done

I can’t stop listening to your version of ‘Habits of my Heart’

Ha, don’t flatter me, El

Honest to God, BEST GIFT EVER

&&

Passed by Memory Lane yesterday

I haven’t gone since the New Year’s... I’m sorry you didn’t have anything picked out this time..

Don’t worry about it

Everything okay, though?

Yeah, I just don’t have any free time :(

&&

By the time I leave the Taylor Howes office, I’m sleep-deprived and hungry. Though I should be used to it by now (after all, it’s been a month of late nights and early mornings), I can’t fight the tears threatening to fall as I leave the lift on the ground floor. I don’t want to cry, however, so I mumble a quiet goodnight to the security guy and walk through the tourniquet, telling myself it will all look better in the morning.

I’ve been telling myself that everyday.

I always thought my problem would be adjusting to the company values, the teams or the clients. Instead, I’ve found a problem with their working schedule. For a girl who’s slept at least eight hours per night, every day of her life, I’ve been getting four hours maximum. I’m basically a walking zombie.

I know I’ve hit a new low when I have to fight not to fall asleep in the bathroom.

It doesn’t help that I haven’t kept in touch with anyone lately. I only have Sundays off and they are usually spent at home, sleeping. I don’t have time to keep a conversation – either by text or by call. I’ll text Amy back, answering whatever she’s asked and saying it’s all good – but I won’t text her back more than twice each time. My aunt has called me a thousand times for advices for a new display she’s working on, but I can’t take the time to talk to her, let alone plan something for Memory Lane. I haven’t seen Max in two and half weeks (and I only saw him because his parents brought him over to my house for a Sunday lunch).

As of lately, I also haven’t been a good dog parent either. Honey gets to walk in the mornings and get a little fresh air in my balcony at about two/three in the morning. I don’t have the energy to play

with her during the week and she only gets cuddle time because she created the habit of sleeping next to me. On Sundays, I just don’t have the energy.

I’ve cried more about this than I care to admit.

On top of it all, it feels like I’ve been carrying an extra weight on my heart. I haven’t seen Harry in over a month, though we tried to hang out two weeks after my birthday (he texted before flying to Los Angeles, where he had a meeting he couldn’t pass on, but he was flying on Saturday night and I had to work until late that day). Our texts decreased since then and I’ve never missed someone this much before.

Though I know we haven’t talked because we’re both busy, it doesn’t help that I feel like this is happening because I wanted both of us to take a step back.

Late at night, right before I fall asleep, I can’t help but think how I’d be so much happier if, at least, I had him to come home to. I daydream about Sundays spent together and late-night Uber rides home talking to him on the phone.

It’s raining when I step out of the building and I huff, putting the Burberry handbag Harry gave me on my birthday over my head. I usually grab an Uber home when I leave at this hour, however there’s a bus passing in two minutes and I could use the money it’ll save me. The bus stop is a couple of meters down the street so I walk faster.

I’m almost there when the bus passes through me, making me sprint down the street.

I don’t know if it’s the shoes, the rain or my tiredness, but I might as well be walking in slow motion because I watch the bus stop when I’m still a few meters away. I take off running, though I see it drive away just as I feel my heel slide down the thin layer of ice on the sidewalk. I cry out when my ass hits the pavement, my hands letting go of the handbag so I can try to prevent my head from doing the same thing. I watch as it falls next to me, spilling a few of its contents on the street.

The rain keeps on pouring as I try to gather myself for a few seconds. Though my hands hurt like hell, it’s not close to the pain I feel on my right ankle – I know I won’t be able to get up, even if I attempt to. I look around, only to find a deserted street.

The tears are running down my face as I try to find my phone (fortunately, I find it still inside my bag). I dial my aunt’s number by memory, swallowing hard as I wait for her to pick up.

She picks by the fifth ring. “Ellie, honey?”

“Aunty,” I cry, breathless. “I need your help.”

I notice she goes into alert mode, her tone changing from sweet to alarmed. “What happened?”

“I- I fell, I don’t think I can get up.” I test my theory again, pressing my right foot into the ground. I hiss. “I was running to catch the bus but- there’s ice on the streets.”

“Oh my,” She gasps. “Honey, I have Max over tonight. I can’t leave him alone.”

I nod as I hear her words, feeling a knot forming in my throat. “Oh. Okay, I-”

“I know who to call!” She cuts me in a hurry. “Where are you exactly? I’ll have someone pick you up in no time.”

I tell her the details and hang up, putting the phone back in the bag. Then, as I wait, I turn to collect my belongings from the pavement. My planner is completely soaked, as is a pack of tissues, but I put them in regardless. I turn slightly to see if there’s anything else, only to find a wrapped box out of reach.

My heart sinks.

Harry’s birthday.

I let out an angry whimper, cursing myself that I needed to see his gift for it to hit me, at three-fifteen in the morning, that I promised on my (rushed) birthday text that I would call him later. It pisses me off even greater because it was all I could think about for hours afterwards. However, I was submerged in work at six in the afternoon and I didn’t have enough time to take a breath, let alone think about anything personal.

I crawl enough so I can grab the box, saving it inside the handbag, just as a car comes to a stop next to me.

I look to the side, locking eyes with Harry.

I don’t have time to process that my aunt called him, as he comes out of the car in a flash and runs to me. “God, what’s happened?” His eyes are wide and his beautiful hair is getting soaked. I open my mouth to speak but only a whimper gets out, my tears and the rain fogging my vision. He kneels next to me, pulling my hair backwards with a hand and touching my arm with the other. “Ellie, tell me where it hurts.”

“Uh, my ankle.” I point to my right leg. “I- I twisted it when I fell.”

“Alright.” He nods forcibly. “I’m going to get you up and move you to the car,” He speaks slowly. “I’m going to try my best not to touch your ankle, but I can’t make any promises.”

I nod, watching as he opens the Range Rover’s back door. I wrap my arms around his neck when he tells me to, bracing myself.

Harry wraps his right arm around my waist and secures my leg with his left hand, moving me swiftly to the car. He, then, picks my handbag from the ground and closes the door, jogging back to the driver’s seat.

I move backwards on the seat so I’m slightly turned, just enough to rest my ankle on the it. I hiss every time it hits the leather.

“What were you doing here at three in the morning?” Harry asks as he starts driving, looking at me through the mirror.

“I just left work,” I explain, wiping down the tears and rain from my face. “I was going to catch the bus.” I admit, cursing myself for that stupid decision before he can.

I notice he’s breathing heavily, shaking his head once he hears my words.

“The bus?” He asks as if he can’t believe it. “Have you ever heard of Uber before?”

“I have.” I roll my eyes, not in the mood for a scowling. “The bus was passing so I thought I’d take it. Taking Uber everyday is expensive.” I don’t let him answer before I continue. “Where are you taking me?”

“The hospital.” He states, turning his head just enough to eye my ankle. “I rather be sure you haven’t broken it.”

I nod, choosing to stay silent for the rest of the drive.

I’m too exhausted for words.

It takes almost an hour until we can leave the hospital. Harry looks tired, though I’m sure I look way worse than he does. He’s given me one of his merch hoodies, so I’m rocking a pair of suit trousers and a blue hoodie with Harry on it. My hair has yet to dry completely and I’m so cold, I’m sure even a hot bath will fail to warm me up.

To top it all, I haven’t eaten anything so far and my stomach is growling like crazy.

“You’re coming to my house.” Harry states once he helps me into the passenger seat of his car. “I won’t have you walk around this weekend.”

“Alright.” I agree easily, since I’ve noticed he’s been on the edge from the moment he parked his car next to me on the street. He hasn’t stopped moving for a minute, even when we couldn’t do anything more than wait, taking deep breathes and cursing lowly to himself. “We have to get Honey, though. She needs to be walked soon.” I add when he comes into the driver seat.

“Of course.” Harry nods, starting up the car.

He doesn’t say anything after that, so I stay silent as well. I feel like crying again, so I’m actually thankful he doesn’t want to talk about any of it, since the tears would start rolling down again.

My mom wants me to quit. Though the hours are long and I haven’t any time for myself, I feel like it’s a necessary evil so I can succeed in the future. I’m learning like I never did before and I’m creating spaces I’ve never even dreamed of – it’s not all bad. Granted, I’m always exhausted and I don’t think I’m going to be able to handle this for a long period of time, but I need to hold on for, at least, a couple more months.

By the end of next year, I’ll have Taylor Howes on my CV for enough time to search for another firm. I have to make do until then.

Harry asks for my key when we arrive to my house, leaving the car quietly after that. Though I’m glad he hasn’t touched the subject, it almost feels like he’s angry at me. I feel two tears running down my cheek while I’m alone in the car, but I’m quick to wipe them out. When he comes out of the building, Honey walking ahead of him while he brings her bed, a toy and food in his hands, my face is completely dry again.

I accept Honey when he puts her in my lap (clearly prioritizing my current state over safety), waiting for him to put down her things on the trunk. When he comes back to his seat, I turn a little to him.

“Do you have snacks in the house?” I ask quietly, getting a nod in response. “I haven’t eaten since seven.”

I watch as he tightens his hold on the steering wheel, giving me a simple nod as an answer.

Feeling like it’s best to just stay put, I watch the lights on the streets until we get to his house. I let Honey run free to the front door while Harry helps me out of the car and into the house.

He drops me on his couch and goes to the kitchen.

“Here,” He hands me a tray after a few minutes, a mug with hot chocolate and a piece of toast on it. “I’ll run a bath for you.” He states once I pick it up, disappearing up the stairs into the first floor.

I wait for a few minutes, texting my aunt to ease her mind while I eat. Though it’s just a sprain, the doctor decided to immobilize it and ordered me to not put any weight on it for, at least, three to four days.

I’ve just sent the text when Harry materializes next to me. “C’mon, let’s go.” He picks me up again and climbs up the stairs, as if my weight is nothing.

He lets me down next to a giant bath, now full with hot water and bubbles. I see him turn to leave and, suddenly, I feel like I can’t take his silence anymore, even if it means sobbing into his chest. I’m ready to share, as long as he talks.

“H.” I call out, watching as he comes to a stop before he reaches the door. Despite the cold, I blush when I say the next words. “Stay with me.”

His eyebrow raises. “In the bath?”

“Uh,” I gulp. “Yeah, it’s big enough.”

“Ellie...”

“You’ve been in the cold too.” I argue.

Finally, he nods, coming back towards me. He helps me take my trousers off, careful when it comes to my ankle. I take off the hoodie and I deliberate if I should take my bra off. I decide against it, eyeing Harry instead, as he takes off his skinny jeans and hoodie, meeting my gaze when he’s just in a pair of boxers.

I take a breath, suddenly feeling the need to run my fingers through his tattoos. I’ve never seen them before.

Harry clears his throat. “Uh, I’ll help you in.” He says, giving me a shock of electricity when his skin meets mine.

He’s careful when laying me in the bath, since my ankle should stay clear off water. He comes into the water next, lying behind me.

A moan comes out of my lips when I take in the hot water and I rest my back on his chest as he wraps his arms around my middle.

After a few minutes, I whisper. “You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.” He denies, his voice low but finally relaxed. “It’s just - you look exhausted, Ellie.”

I shrug lightly. “That’d be the word, yes. I haven’t slept more than four hours since the New Year’s.”

“I noticed you were working a lot, you told me so a few weeks ago, but I didn’t know it was this much.”

“Yeah,” I say, lacking for anything else. “But it’s not all bad. I’m enjoying the work.” I try to look back at him the best I can. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Of course I worry about you.”

I give him a small smile. “I think it’ll get better soon, not all projects are like this. It’s just a big client and there’s not enough people in our team – we’re almost finishing it, though.”

“Well, you won’t be finishing anything this next week.” He tells me as a matter of fact. “You’re taking a leave so you can heal your ankle.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m not.”

“Ellie.”

“I can’t miss work so soon.” I try to reason with him. “But we’ll see how I feel Monday. I might take the day off.”

I don’t feel like he’s too convinced, but he lets the subject die.

We stay quiet for another few minutes, until I break silence again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you today.” I whisper, my head resting in his shoulder so I can gaze at him. “I meant to.”

He shakes his head, his lips curving upwards. “Don’t worry, I get it.”

“I do worry.” I admit. “You deserve the best, Harry. I haven’t been that, right from the start.”

Harry brings his hands to my shoulders so I take my head off his and turn just enough so he can look at me. “Hey, you’re the best to me. That’s all that matters.”

I blush. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” He chuckles, taking me back in his arms. “Let’s not let work take all our time again, yeah?”

I nod, smiling though I’m not facing him anymore.

We don’t stay in the bath much longer, as the water starts to run cold. Harry doesn’t ask if I prefer to sleep in the guest bedroom; instead, he helps me dress in one of his sweatpants and hoodies (though I look like I’ve bought clothes two sizes too big, I’m surprisingly comfy) and then drops me into his bed.

Just before he drops himself into the other side of the bed, and even though I’m two minutes away from sleep, I ask him to get my bag downstairs.

I take his gift from it, handing him the carefully wrapped box.

“Happy birthday, H.”

I watch hazily as he smiles and rips the paper until he’s met with a blue velvet box. “It’s vintage,” I mention as he opens it up to find a silver ring. “It was my great grandfather’s.”

Harry’s eyes widen, looking from the ring to me. “Are you sure you want to give it to me?”

I chuckle, my eyes only half opened. “Of course, I wouldn’t otherwise.”

He nods silently, taking the ring out and trying it on. It’s a simple enough ring, but I knew it was Harry’s style right from the moment I saw it on my grandparent’s house on Christmas. My grandfather doesn’t wear jewelery, so he gave it to me without blinking. I adjusted it to Harry’s size the week after, though I knew I’d only give it to him on his birthday.

“Thank you, El.”

I could blame it on sleep, but it’s a deliberate move when I reach for him and my lips rest on his for a few seconds.

I fall asleep a moment after.

&&

Harry didn’t let me go back to work on Monday, since my ankle was still swollen as hell.

On Saturday morning, he went to my house while I was still asleep and gathered enough of my belongings for a week. Initially, I thought it was adorable that he picked so many pieces of clothing for me to choose from. By Sunday evening, I figured he didn’t – in fact, he chose exactly ten outfits, enough to last me until next week. I opened my mouth to fight him but, when nothing came out, I figured I didn’t really want to.

I was exactly where I wanted to be.

Harry drove me to work and picked me up at the early hours of dawn. I had a cooked meal waiting for me at his place every night and, despite the time, we managed to keep ourselves awake for an extra hour to catch up on our days. Lying in bed, on our respective side, he’d tell me about how Mitch came up with the most genius guitar drift he had ever listened to and I’d tell him the about the sofa I picked for a living room.

Somehow, we’d wake up tangled in each other (alas, it was the only time we let ourselves fully enjoy each other).

It only comes to me on the following Tuesday, while driving to work (Harry made me take my car from now on, going as far as buying me a parking space near the office), that he’s driven me to work for four days and I didn’t give it a second thought. It suddenly feels a lifetime away since I’ve worried about it.

I’m in the middle of purchasing a dinner table when my phone buzzes with a text. I take it from the table and open it.

Thought you needed to see my face this morning,

You know, after a week of seeing me every day, you must miss me

Ha ha, you wish

I don’t wish, I know

Have a great day, El x

I put my phone down, only to notice Martha, a work friend, staring at me with a knowing smile.

“I’m sorry, my eyes just landed on your screen,” She blushes, though I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t do it on purpose. “You know Harry Styles?”

This time, I’m the one blushing. “Uh, yeah. We’re friends.”

“That’s so cool.” She gushes, forgetting her own tasks for a moment. “How’s he like in person?”

“Hm,” I think about my next words. “He’s very thoughtful. He’s the kind of person who’s always there when you need him.”

“I’ve always thought he was nice.” She seems happy to confirm it.

I laugh. “He is.”

We’re interrupted by our boss, who asks to see me for a sec. I try to stop my heart from racing, but nerves invade my thoughts.

I follow her to her office, sitting in the leather chair I bet cost more than all the furniture in my living room. She sits down in front of me and smiles, which makes me feel better (and wonder if I look so terrified, she felt the need to calm me). She starts by recalling when I asked her for feedback last week, taking her by surprise and, then, proceeds to tell me she’s ready to do so now.

My eyes widen when she starts saying a bunch of good things, finally grinning when I start feeling like the long hours are paying off.

She tells me I was a ‘good choice’ and ’definitely not a let down’, and I can’t contain my smile when I leave her office, going back to work with a new-found will.

¨

If my boss knew the wave of thoughts she caused, she wouldn’t have called me this morning. I’m not able to focus on my work for the rest of the day, though it’s only when I drive home from work that I try to make sense of it all.

The conversation with my boss means I have proved my worth in this past month, which not only makes me more confident in my work and eager for my next project on Taylor Howes, it also prompts my brain to another topic. I was afraid my relationship with Harry would make people doubt me. However, I find myself equating the probability of my boss’s opinion changing based on a relationship and it seems low – too low. My work is corresponding to what they expected it to and I know I’ll only improve from now on, so there won’t be a reason for her to second think it over Harry Styles.

This train of thought makes me think back on Martha’s comments when she saw Harry’s name on my phone. She didn’t seem to think much on it, besides being thrilled to know someone who knows him (a common reaction). I’ve been friendly with all the colleagues in my project and, part of me, already knows none of them will think twice about it, if they ever come to realize I’m friends with Harry. Even if they do, though, at the end of the day, it’s my boss’ opinion that matters.

Ashley implied I got my job because of him – but, then again, she was always bitter anyway. I just didn’t think about it at the time, because it all seemed too overwhelming. I wasn’t thinking clearly.

I’m parking my car in front of my house when I come to the conclusion that my issue with work has vanished over time and, suddenly, it feels like there’s nothing in between Harry and I anymore.

The past week has been an eye-opener in other fronts, as well. I was frustrated, exhausted and crying myself to sleep every night before I twisted my ankle. I was living and breathing Taylor Howes. Without even trying, just by being there, Harry brightened my days; I went from that to grinning from ear to ear, exchanging enough texts during the day to keep a smile on my face. The few hours of sleep I was getting weren’t enough, but now I don’t mind sleeping even less if it means I get to talk to him.

Sarah was right all along – there’s no use in fighting it.

If there’s anyone who can prove men aren’t all like my father, it’s Harry.

And I finally feel like I’m ready to be with him.

&&

Where you at?

Home, why?

Do you need a ride?

I squeeze the steering wheel, taking a deep breath.

It’s now Friday, four days after I’ve come to the earth-breaking conclusion that I want to be all in with Harry. And though I figured that out pretty quickly on that particular day, like a fog had lifted and, suddenly, I could see it all very clearly, I decided I was going to wait until I made my move.

Especially because we wouldn’t have time to enjoy it if I did it on a Tuesday.

No, I was going to knock on his door on a Friday night and tell him I wasn’t going to leave that house until the next Monday.

With that in mind, I move the car and punch in his gate’s passcode, parking the car in between his. I walk out of the car and move to the door, knocking twice as I gather the courage.

He opens the door two seconds later, his eyebrows rising when he sees me. It’s still ten p.m., which means I got myself an early night at the office. I smile, accessing his sweatpants and t-shirt situation – he looks like he was just asleep in his couch.

“Hey,” He messes his hair, clearing his throat. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

I nod. “I know.”

“Come in.” Though he looks confused, he closes the door behind me and takes my coat from me.

I smile, taking the opportunity to take my heels off. I’m left in a black high neck shirt (which is going to be too hot for the room temperature he has going) and a pair of suit trousers.

“So,” I bite my lower lip, starting the speech I memorized once we get to the living room. He eyes me strangely, sitting on the coach while staring at me, still standing in front of him. “I’ve had a revelation this week.”

I can tell he’s not sure how to react, so he simply raises his eyebrow.

I feel my palms turning sweaty.

“Okay, uh, alright,” I fidget with my sweatshirt, suddenly realizing this isn’t like a work presentation. I can’t come up here and deliver a speech.

There are feelings involved!

“So, uh, do you remember,” I make a short pause, enough to get my heart pounding five times faster. “back on my birthday, when you said you’d wait for me?”

It seems like he wants to smile, but he just nods with a blank expression in.

I gulp. “Uh, I’m ready.”

I don’t know what I was expecting. However, as soon as my words get to him, I can barely register Harry standing up when, suddenly, I’m up in his arms. I recognize his laughter, and then my own. He makes a path of open-mouthed kisses from my neck to my mouth, taking my lips on his with a hungry force.

I pull away just enough to keep going. “I got too scared, but I’m not anymore.” I curve my lips upwards, pressing my lips on his. “You make me happy, I shouldn’t run from that.”

Harry picks me up without a word and, suddenly, we’re moving.

Where’s he taking me?

“Where are you taking me?” I voice my thoughts, holding on to him. He ignores me, heading for the stairs. “Harry!” I let out a laugh, I pulling back enough to look at him. His eyes are shinning. “H!”

 “You can finish your little speech later, I want to hear how you’re so in love with me you can’t keep your distance,” He grins, reaching the top of the stairs. “But right now, unless you have something against it, I’m taking you up to my bedroom.”

I laugh, meeting his lips with mine.

I think that’s just the answer he wanted.

T H E  E N D

¨

… O R  I S  I T ?

“Try the other one,” I yell from a few feet away, watching as Harry dumps the Christmas tree he was just holding and holds another one to his left. “I think this one’s better. What d’you think, Gorgeous?”

I notice his smile as soon as the nickname leaves my lips and I mirror it. He can try, but he’ll always fail not to show emotion when I call him pet names, and it seems that Gorgeous has definitely stick with me.

He does his best to look down at the tree, though it’s so big he won’t get the whole picture standing so close. He frowns. “Did I not point this one out on the way here?”

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t,” I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Though it doesn’t matter, that’s definitely the one for your living room.”

He nods and tells the man assisting us (who was just minding his own business, since we’ve been here for a while and I’m too undecisive) that we’ll take this one.

I watch as he makes his way to me, holding his hand when he offers it. “Do we have all, then?”

“We needed two for your house and one for mine,” I think out loud. “So, yeah. We have everything.”

Though we don’t live together yet (we spend our time between his house and mine), Harry and I are hosting Christmas dinner for both our families. His house was obviously the chosen spot, as everyone wouldn’t fit on mine, so we’re bringing the Christmas spirit into that place for the first time since he moved there.

“Careful,” I warn him, as he kneels down to pet Honey. Her paws are muddy and she loves to call his attention by putting her not-so-little-anymore paws on his legs, dirtying his clothes every time. I don’t see him moving. “H, she’ll put her paws all over you!”

“It’s fine, El.” He shakes his head, petting the dog’s head. “Right, Honey? You’ll behave today for daddy, won’t you?”

I roll my eyes, knowing exactly how this’ll end.

To prove me right, her paw meets his expensive black jeans and he pulls away, barely keeping himself on his feet. I shake my head, not able to hold back my laughter.

“Told you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” He chuckles, bringing me closer to him by my middle. “She just takes after you, she loves me so much.”

I can’t fight a smile, accepting when his lips head for mine. I sigh, bringing my fingers to his hair, now a bit longer.

“I do love you.” I whisper when we part, not missing the chance to say it.

“Me too, babe,” He grins. “Me too.”