It seems the more you involve people in your life, the faster your days go. I remember my off days when I was in college, they dragged on. But now that I have Amita, Damien, and Harry around, my days feel like they end before they even begin. Sprinkle in the rest of 1D getting to know me via text and I can't blink before the day is over.
My phone hasn't had this much action since high school. And comparing the two there are definitely more texts from people I actually want to talk to now. I was so used to my phone being dry it's funny to actually hear it ring nearly constantly. I have someone to talk to all day if I choose.
There's always someone to turn to if I'm having an anxiety attack I can't handle it on my own. Harry's been amazing with assisting me and surprisingly so has Niall. We've grown really close since we met, probably due to us talking nearly every day. Harry hasn't been too keen on it, in fact he has a rule that I'm not allowed to talk to Niall while we're spending time together. He feels like he's being replaced. His words, not mine. Sure he said it jokingly but the closet fan girl in me can't help but disregard that and take it to heart.
I assured him that he was my in town best friend, since he's normally here in LA, while Niall holds the international title. When he asked how I'll decide who gets that spot when they're back on tour I suggested a wrestling match, to which he agreed. If I were to say I'm not waiting on baited breath to see if it'll happen I'd be lying.
The cotton fabric of my black shirt dress slides down over my body softly like a cool breeze. Grabbing my fedora from the bed I plop it onto my head, tilted back the same way Harry wears his. The two toned fabric matches well with my entire outfit. The black of the brim matches my dress, nails, and chained biker boots. While the oxblood color of the top coincides with my lipstick covered lips. I managed to complete the grunge hipster look with heavy eyeliner and a few brushed out curls in my hair. Thankfully the perm I got earlier this month took perfectly. Making my hair straight and manageable without over processing it and making it too soft to hold a curl. I didn't have to put too much product in it but once I wash it out tonight it'll tell the true story.
I take one last look at my outfit before turning off the light in my bedroom. Out of the corner of my eye I think I see something crawl across the floor just as the lights go out. I want to turn it back on but I genuinely don't have the time, especially if it's just my mind playing tricks on me. My mind wanders to the scorpion problem the townhouses in my row have been having but I quickly shake the thought away. If I dwell on it I'll be tearing my room apart and searching for hours. I'm already running late when that's the last thing I want, for once I'm actually taking Harry out.
I worked on an account at work for the owner of a local bakery called Bittersweet. She was so impressed with my work and how fast I was able to do my job that she gave me two vouchers for free cake decorating classes. I was stoked when she gave them to me because I love to cook and I've always wanted to learn to decorate cakes, however I didn't know who I could bring with me. After getting no's from Damien and Amita who were supposedly busy with their significant others I decided to ask Berkley. Our energy has been off for the past few weeks and this encounter was no exception. He made it very clear that it wasn't his idea of a good time, as if going would be beneath him. Rather than taking it as an opportunity for us to reconnect he just took the wind out of my sails.
It wasn't until I talked to Harry and he seemed over the moon with the idea that I got excited about it again. We made the plans and now here I am, pulling up to a gated community in Calabasas. It took me a little over thirty minutes to get here, giving me plenty of time to think about the past few days.
As I pull to a slow stop I stare at the grand black and gold gate in front of me. I read the shiny gold letters perched across the top of the gate.
"Calabasas Manors," I mutter to myself, as I wait for the security guard to turn around, "at least they named it something accurate."
Plump around the middle, the older man has gentle brown eyes and a worn leathery look to his dark brown skin. A salt and pepper beard shrouds his full lips as they morph into a kind smile.
"Hi honey who are you here to see?" he asks, his voice is deep and bounces off the walls in the small black and gold security box they have him in. His voice reminds me of my father's, steady and strong. It makes me smile.
"How do you know I don't live here, Eddie?" I joke, checking the name on his badge.
He looks from my face to my car then back to my face. "I know every face of every person that lives here. It's my job."
I nod my head and purse my lips shadily, "Mhm. Whatever you say Eddie, whatever you say. Could you tell Harry Styles that Bailey Duncan is here for him?"
He laughs, nodding as he pushes a few buttons on a switchboard behind him.
On the sides of him are two sliding doors like on UPS trucks that have thick plastic windows that are trimmed in black and gold, a recurring theme for this neighborhood it seems. There's a wall of screens and boards of buttons behind him while in front of him there's a plastic window that matches the ones on the doors, probably bulletproof glass.
Suddenly a familiar face pops up on one of the screens behind him.
"Hello Eddie," Harry calls waving his hand at the camera.
I can see he's fully dressed in dark blue ripped jeans and a pale yellow button up top, rolled at the sleeves. He looks breathtakingly gorgeous as per usual with his hair pulled up into a sloppy bun.
"Hi Mr. Styles. I have a young lady here by the name of Bailey Duncan who says she's here to see you," Eddie responds, all playfulness gone from his tone.
Harry smirks lightly then looks into the camera as if he's confused about who I am. "Hmm," he murmurs, squinting his eyes. "Could you step out of the car? I'm not sure if I recognize you."
I glare at the screen, earning a constricted laugh from Harry, before opening my car door and stepping out.
"Give a little twirl," he says, spinning his finger around.
A laugh explodes from my mouth as I spin around and give him a 360, throwing my hands out dramatically at the end.
He laughs, shaking his head at my hysterics. "She's good Eddie. I'd know that frame anywhere."
A current shoots through my heart forcing a nervous laugh past my lips. I drop into my car and place my seatbelt on again.
"Thanks Eddie. See you soon B," Harry quips before the screen goes blank.
Eddie gives me a smile then pushes a button that opens the gate in front of me.
I wave goodbye to him as I drive into one of the most amazing neighborhoods I've ever seen. The houses are absolutely stunning and so eclectic. As I drive along the street I can tell which houses were built by the owners and which the builders of the neighborhood constructed. Every two or three houses between clusters of identical builds I'll spot a home that doesn't fit. It makes for a fun little activity as I weave through the streets and up a large hill to Harry's house.
He lives on a cul-de-sac street, his home being the modern paradise on the left. A strong looking metal gate would block the driveway if it was closed, however since he's expecting me I assume he left it open. His driveway is long and winds around a contemporary fountain in the shape of stacked cubes. As I pull closer to the home I take in the face of the property. A sleek four car garage is off to the left while the front of his home is a mix of bold architecture and modern sophisticated style.
On one hand I'd say this is exactly the house I would expect him to have being who he is but on the other, I could see him in a small cottage style or traditional family home. Something quaint, cozy, and personal, not cold and oversized. But knowing Harry he could be happy in either. It's really his personality that warms up the space he's in not the space itself.
As I walk across the pavement and up the small steps to his front door I take in the landscaping. Everything is neat and in it's place, not a piece of grass is unruly. A wild distinction from the mop of hair on the man in front of me.
"What happened?" I smile walking into his opened arms. He squeezes me tightly then releases so I can ruffle his hair. "You had it up, it looked good."
He shakes his flowing locks out then pushes his hand through until they're tousled just right.
"My bun was being annoying. Too many stray pieces flying around," he announces ushering me through his front door with a hand on my lower back.
I roll my eyes. He's such a perfectionist no matter what it comes to. Whether it's his outfits or hair or a performance. "A little imperfection goes a long way," I chide taking a look around the space in front of me. One word comes to mind, open.
"Yeah yeah," he dismisses, "Would you like a full tour?"
I smile nodding excitedly. The house is only one story technically but it would classify as a split level home in my mind.
The floors are dark hardwoods and the walls are a light grey color that opens the space up greatly. As you walk in the door, to the left is a half bath, covered from floor to ceiling in light grey tiles that match the paint color on the other walls in the house. The toilet is made of the usual white porcelain but the design is sleek while the sink has a modern glass bowl design with a chrome waterfall faucet.
When we leave the bathroom and enter the foyer again, I'm faced with the security system Harry was speaking to Eddie and I through. It's on the wall between the front door and the door to his room filled with his interests. The lighting in the room is dim, very calming, and the walls are covered with the album plaques the boys have accumulated. Photos of Harry and the boys as well as with other celebrities accompany the plaques. A shiny black baby grand piano sits in the far corner of the room while a drum kit sits in the adjacent. A line of guitars along the wall fills the space between them and across from them along the other wall is a table top with a plush stool underneath it. On the right side of the table is a shelf that holds photos in frames as well as no less than ten cameras.
I love that his favorite things are split into one space this way. It shows the two sides of Harry perfectly. The calm serene side that loves photography and cooking, hikes and relaxing and the wilder side to him that enjoys partying and performing for thousands and acting like a nut as he does so.
The guest bedroom beside the music room is spacious. It has it's own bathroom off to the left with a nice sized walk-in closet inside. The room itself is very relaxing to the eye. A dark grey bed with tan and cream bedding. A dark wood dresser, light tan chair in the corner, dark grey curtains, and a rug that pulls all of the colors together complete the neutral look of the room.
Beside the guest room, directly across from the entrance is the master bedroom. Black, white, and grey seem to be the theme.
"I see you put in some effort here," I joke, running my hand along the flowy transition from dark to light grey curtains.
Harry shrugs. "I spend most of my time here or in the music room so I guess so. Do you like it?"
I take a look around the modern monochrome utopia. The bed itself is black leather with dark and light grey bedding. Sitting across from it is a flat screen rested on top of a black and chrome TV stand. A grey rug dusts the white marble floors, while grey and black paint grace the walls. A corner of the room is made solely of windows while the wall behind the bed holds gorgeous black and white paintings of different staples from different cities.
"I love it," I breathe, running my finger along the frame of the photo of Big Ben. "Did you take these?"
A proud grin spreads across his pink lips as he nods.
I don't even want to leave the room, it's so beautiful. I love contemporary styled rooms more than any other. I've just never had the opportunity to design one of my own because of the types of houses I always live in.
He ushers me to the left and into the master bathroom. The monochrome theme continues with white walls, black slate flooring, and dark grey tiling in the shower. There are dual sinks, on walls opposite each other. Against the wall of one, on the other side is the shower. It's wide and spacious with not only a wall mount and detachable sprayer but also a waterfall shower head from the ceiling. A huge square tub with jets sits in front of it against the final wall in the room. I can just imagine myself taking long bubble baths there and letting the jets do their worst.
Leaving Harry's bedroom we enter into the foyer once again before turning into the library. There's a small set of stairs beside it that lead down into the living room but I avert my eyes not wanting to ruin the surprise. I take in the rows of books against two walls of the room, they meet in the corner to form an 'L' shaped book case. The wall across from us is covered in windows that look out onto the tops of the other houses in the neighborhood below us. Facing the view is a small white desk and black rolling chair in the middle of the floor, the latest Apple laptop adorning it.
"The view is so pretty. Aren't you worried about paparazzi though with all of these windows?" I ask curiously, knowing how much he hates it when they invade his privacy.
He shrugs, "They usually don't come here. And anytime they do they can never shoot anything they can use."
I turn my head to the side in confusion as we leave the room and head down the few steps to the living room.
"I'm always naked," he informs me with a sneaky smirk.
I laugh louder than I should, so loud it echoes. Quickly I wonder if it's me or the house that caused it. Was I that loud or is this place that empty?
I don't get to ponder my thoughts too long before I'm being ushered out to the backyard and Harry's rambling on like he's been the entire tour. I can tell just by watching him he's extremely proud of this place. It makes me hate that I was focusing more on the house and less on what he was saying.
The backyard feels like you stepped onto a beach somewhere. The pool area is huge with beautiful blue water and huge rock structures surrounding it. The rocks form a waterfall as well as a cavern for a pool slide. On the opposite end of the pool is a basketball hoop. I can just imagine the wild days the boys have had here playing pool basketball for hours until their skin is pruned. We're standing under the covered bar and grill area. There's so much counter space for preparing and sitting out refreshments, along with the huge seating table for guests. The table is glass and looks to fit at least ten people, with iron chairs that hold black cushions in them.
I take one last look at the oasis before turning to go back into the house with Harry.
"This is the living room," he gleams, gesturing his hand. "It's not much but I'm still decorating."
There's two walls of windows on either side of the room. I can see the pool area wrapping around into the view of both. The television is huge, as to be expected in a guy's house, but beside it are two large shelving units. Taking a closer look I see the many awards the boys have won line the shelves along with photos of family and friends.
I pick up a picture of Harry, his mom Anne and sister Gemma. "They're even more beautiful than I thought."
He smiles proudly as I place the photo back. "Thank you. I'll be sure to tell them you said that."
That stops me in my tracks. "You've told them about me?"
He nods with a grin across his lips that soon turns to a light frown. "You didn't want me to?"
"No, it's not that. It's just," I trail off, my eyes falling to the plush black leather u shaped sectional in the middle of the room. He uses so many dark colors, dark woods too.
"You haven't told your family about me," he finishes for me. I can't tell if he's upset by his tone and I'm too much of a coward to look up and see.
I shake my head, continuing to check out the white furry rug beneath the dark wood coffee table in front of the couch.
Suddenly, fingers lift my chin and I'm staring into those eyes again. The ones that make my breath lose it's sense of direction and my head get woozy.
"It's fine," he announces lowly, "I understand why you never said anything. In fact I appreciate it, it's a huge reason why I continued talking to you initially if I'm honest."
A light smile dusts my lips bringing his attention from my eyes down then back up again. My heart is doing one hundred in a thirty mile zone and I can't seem to slow it.
Uneasy laughter moves past his lips as he removes his hand from the side of my neck.
I hadn't even noticed it was there. Lord. That means he felt my heart beating that fast. Take me now, I'm ready!
"Final stop is the kitchen," he declares, walking up the stairs behind the couch.
I take a second to get myself together before following him into a chef's dream.
The counter space is ample, stainless steel appliances, dark wood cabinets that match the flooring, and plenty of cabinets for storage. A pantry/laundry room sits off to the far right in the corner. Wicker barstools sit beneath the counter island and a stainless steel vent hood stoops over the gas burning oven.
"My mom would kill you over this oven," I laugh, running my fingers across the tops of the burners.
He laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets, "No need. I'll get her one for Christmas."
I turn to him with an expression I've perfected since we met. It's one that says, "Stop throwing your money around. You don't have to buy me." without seeming too ungrateful or looking too bitchy.
He shrugs again and walks past me, down the stairs back into the foyer. I watch him grab his keys from the hook beside his security system, silently wondering how I got so lucky all of a sudden.
~*~
"I can't do this shįt," Harry grumbles, shaking a powder dusted piece of fondant off of his fingers and to the side. His pile of rejected materials is getting so tall he'll be able to make a toddler sized snow man before long.
I laugh, dusting my hands off. "You can, you're just impatient."
Scooting closer I examine the damage. His fondant isn't sticking together. It's mostly a glob of melted marshmallows covered with way too much powdered sugar.
Struggling to hold in my giggle I ask, "Houdini are you using your measuring cups?"
He scowl deepens as he grumbles, "I'm eyeballing it."
I can't hold it in any longer, I laugh, covering my mouth so I don't disturb the older couples in the class.
"That's how all of the professional chefs do it," he defends, dumping the remnants of whatever that mess was in his bowl.
I shake my head as I catch my breath, "Don't quit your day job Styles. You need to use your measuring cups or else you're going to keep getting the abominable snowman over there."
He glances at his throw away pile in an attempt to defend it but once he sees how huge it is he decides against it. Opting for an adorable brooding scowl instead.
"Just because you look so cute when you're frustrated I'll help you out," I joke, or was that flirting? I never know anymore.
Switching our bowls I go through the steps we were taught to make our very own marshmallow fondant.
This class has been so much more than what I thought it would be. From the second we stepped into the room I've learned something new. We made our own cakes from scratch and now while we wait for them to cook we're making fondant to cover them. The plan is that once the fondant is in the freezer getting hard we'll make edible flowers to decorate the tops of the cakes with. However at the rate Harry's going we'll be here until next year waiting for him to finish his fondant.
"Good job on your fondant Harry," our instructor Liz praises, looking at my fondant in front of him.
He opens his mouth to speak but before he can respond Liz directs her attention to me. "Oh my, Bailey do you need some help?"
My eyes bulge and only get bigger when Harry cuts in grinning mischievously, "Don't worry about it Liz, I've got it."
She smiles back at him, falling for those damned dimples. "Such a gentleman," she nudges me before walking off, "He's a keeper."
I watch her retreating figure before glaring at him playfully. "More like a stinker. Just what do you think you're doing Harold?"
He shrugs his shoulders, pretending to be focused on kneading the fondant to wrap it up.
"AsÅhole," I mumble under my breath causing him to burst into laughter.
We end up using the class from yesterday's fondant since it has to be in the freezer for anywhere from twelve to twenty-four hours. I guess it's a system here, the class after always uses the class before theirs finished product.
When Liz came around asking what type of flowers we wanted to make for the cake out of roses or calla lilies I nearly jumped out of my skin. I just about yelled calla lilies which earned this gem of a conversation I'm having with Harry now.
"Excited much?" he asks jokingly as he rolls out a small circle of fondant like the instructions on the table say.
"Oh zip it Houdini," I gripe back, "I'm still not talking to you."
Placing his hands on his hips he turns his head to the side, "And why not?"
I try to hold my composure but I can't. He looks like a pissed off homemaker with the frilly plaid apron he has on. It serves us right for coming late, we had to get what they had left. I took the plain blue one, the more 'masculine' of the two, just to see him in the pink and white pattern. He wouldn't let me take a picture of him but with his hands on his hips and powdered sugar and flour all over his apron and face I don't need it, my mind is committing the sight to memory.
He must realize why I'm laughing so hard because he drops his hands from his hips and glares at me good-naturedly. "Laugh it up B. We'll see who gets the last laugh when you're walking home tonight."
That makes me laugh even harder. He'd never leave me here, he's too sweet and he worries too much. Berkley on the other hand would leave in a heartbeat.
"Alright," he announces, bringing my thoughts back into the room, "they're all done. What do you think?"
I reach for one, picking it up by the wire it's attached to, and spin it around slowly as if I'm inspecting it. "They'll do," I shrug, placing the lily back down.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes and earning a giggle from me.
By the time the cakes are all done and decorated I'm not really in the mood to eat it. I get like that a lot ever since my weight loss. I'll spend forever making something and then by the time I can eat it I don't want to. It's something about seeing all of the ingredients that go into the food that makes me not want it.
I don't realize I'm telling all of that to Harry until he openly disagrees.
"You did more than diet to lose weight though. You worked your aÅs off, you still work your asÅ off so you deserve to treat yourself."
Before I can agree or disagree he offers a proposition. "You try a piece of mine and I'll try a piece of yours."
When I look like I'm going to decline he tries to entice me. "Please? Yours looks really good, I've been dying to have a piece."
My mouth goes dry as a bone as the innuendos fly through my mind like jets. I don't bother trying to talk instead I nod in agreeance and cut him a piece of the cake he desires so much. I see the flash of his camera out of the corner of my eye but ignore it like I usually do. I'm used to his off guard pictures, I realize as I plate the cake for him.
Suddenly it dawns on me that he hardly if ever sends them to me. "Do you just have a folder in your phone of candid shots of me?" I ask with a short laugh.
He smirks, taking a forkful of cake, "Maybe." His smile widens when the flavors of the cake hit his taste buds. I get the nod and a thumbs up from him as he stuffs his face with another forkful of cake.
I roll my eyes at the silly man beside me and take a bite from my slice of his cake. Surprisingly enough it's not bad. It tastes a little like egg but I'll never tell him, especially not with such a hopeful gleam in his eye. I give him the same treatment he gave me, a nod and a thumbs up.
Then I change the subject, "So how are things going with the new album?"
His mood seems to change, his nervous ticks coming out. He bites his lip and maneuvers his hair, even twiddles his fingers before replying. "If I'm honest... not that good."
"Have you told them you want to write more?" I ask, scooting closer to him in my seat. It happens instinctually, I go into a protective mode I can't control.
He lifts one shoulder then drops it in a half-shrug. "I guess. Not in so many words I suppose."
I sigh, "Houdini, love, you've got to be more direct. I love you and all but not in so many words basically means you didn't say anything. Stockholm Syndrome was fantastic, one of the best songs from Four. Just A Little Bit of Your Heart was breathtaking and easily the best song on Ariana's album. You can do this. What do I always tell you?"
I feel a bit like a mom admonishing her kid, I hope he doesn't look at it that way. We've had this conversation over the phone a million times and I just want him to believe in himself like he believes in the people around him.
"Be bold, be brave," he recites then laughs, "I should get that tattooed on me."
I smile, glad he didn't feel emasculated by my snippy nature. "Only if it helps."
~*~
Somehow or another we end up at Third Street Promenade seeing the sights. I've never been and Harry hasn't in some time because of all of the tourists and possibilities of him getting spotted.
As we park I look over to him and ask again, "Are you positive you want to go here? We can just go back to your place and hang out."
He immediately shakes his head. "I'm tired of not hanging out with you in public. If we get spotted whatever, we don't have anything to hide."
I smile and nod my agreeance and wait for him to come around and open my door.
Walking around there's so many stores I see that I've never been in; Zara, All Saints, Anthropologie. As we maneuver through the crowds of people Harry places his hand on my lower back, sending a jolt down my spine. It shocked me more than anything that he's touching me in public where anyone can see. Ultimately the action is innocent enough but if anyone sees they could assume otherwise.
As if the notes are floating on the wind, I hear a man singing a familiar song that catches my attention. I can't place the melody or the lyrics but it draws me in. Like a dog sniffing out a bone I follow the sound, leaving the warmth of Harry's guiding hand.
I make it to the man belting out tunes just as the song ends. He thanks people for their donations and for listening before he begins another song. The instrumental for Joe's I Wanna Know blasts through his portable speaker taking me back in time. Being that this is one of my sister's favorite songs, when we were growing up she would blast it at unreasonably high levels. It was annoying enough to share a room with another person who 'didn't get me' but to be forced to hear the same song over and over so loudly drove me insane. It wasn't until I got older and realized what the lyrics really meant that I found my own appreciation for the slow jam.
I sway from side to side involuntarily, the music taking control. True to form, however, my anxiety forces me to make sure to keep my movement small and contained, my singing low and controlled. I can already feel eyes on me, but this time it isn't all in my head. Harry's surprised gaze is glued to mine as I look up at him and shrug.
"I like this song."
He smiles brightly extending his hand. "Dance with me."
Looking from his face to his hand and back again my eyes widen. Before I know it he's taking my hands and pulling me to him, ignoring my impending objection.
My protest dissolves in my mouth as his hands glide down my arms to pull them up and around his neck. Breathing ceases to exist when his strong hands grip my waist. We're floating on air, it feels. Him off of pulling me out of my comfort zone and me off of allowing him to.
His hands slip into a more comfortable position at my lower back forcing a shiver through my body. Words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them.
"I can't believe I let you pull me into this, literally."
His dimples appear, slim pink lips forming into a grin. "I can't believe you can sing."
I roll my eyes at him just as he spins me out then back into him. I hear the crowd whistle and cheer and instantly stiffen.
His fingers soothe small rapid circles into my back. "They're not even here," he murmurs, catching my worried gaze. "Sing to me."
A shy smile breaks across my lips and although every bone in my body screams for me not to, I do it. I sing to him in a voice probably too quiet for him to even hear.
He doesn't complain. He just smiles like he can hear every syllable, as if I'm an award winning artist performing my first single.
When the song ends I find it harder than anything to pull away, but I do. Harry beams radiantly at me before turning to the street performer and clapping for him.
I watch him intently as he gives the man a tip and talks with him. I want to stop staring but I can't. Something's changed, I can feel it. My heart speeds differently, my breathing irregularity is even more off. Every unbalanced reaction I normally have to his presence is different now, more enhanced. Before I can delve into the thought I hear a high pitched squeal.
"Oh my God!"
"Harry!"
He walks over to me and gives me an uncomfortable smile as he waits for the three running girls to get to us.
They're gorgeous young ladies, all with wavy blonde hair to their lower backs. It's almost like they're sisters but I'm sure that was the intention. They look to be about fifteen or sixteen but they're dressed like they're my age in crop tops and booty shorts.
"Hi," Harry greets, turning into the shy awkward person I've seen him turn into when he gets recognized.
"Oh my God! Hi! I love you so much! Can I have a hug?" one of the blondes asks.
"Me too!" the other chimes in.
"Same! Could we get pictures too?" the final girl asks politely. You can tell she's a bit more nervous than the other girls.
"Sure," Harry smiles, giving them a flash of his dimples.
I step to the side and let them do their thing. I don't even try to stop my smile. You can tell he loves his fans so much. He's so grateful, thanking them over and over for their support, and patient. If a selfie doesn't come out the way they want he retakes it, if they want him to make a silly face he does, it's a sight to see, him catering to them.
"Hi," the nervous one greets me, "could you take the group photo for us?"
I nod and accept the three iPhones.
"Ready?" I ask, "One, Two, Three."
Once the photos are all taken I hand her back the phones and she issues them out.
"I'm so happy I met you today," the first blonde admits, "I've had such a shitty week. My boyfriend dumped me for another girl."
"That's why we're here on a Sunday," the second girl says nudging her friend, "trying to cheer her up."
Harry holds his arms up for the first girl to hug him again. "I'm sorry that happened to you. You'll get through this, you have great friends."
She releases him then shrugs as if to say she's not sure.
Something in that action, the look of sadness on her face took me back to that time. The first heartbreak is the worst, the wounds stay fresh for so much longer. I go against my norm and decide to say something.
"Woman to woman," I begin, wanting her to feel like we're equals, hoping she'll accept my advice better, "at this age, boys are idiots. In reality they'll probably always be idiots but as you get older you learn to deal with them better. Focus on school right now, you don't need him. I know high school relationships seem like the most important things in the world but they aren't. You can and will do better especially when Harry Styles thinks you're a ten. Right Harold?"
I pat his shoulder and lift my eyebrows for emphasis. I pray he goes along with it, it'll make this girl's day.
"Of course," he replies, "You're all stunning, amazing, legends."
His words earn giggles and shy thank you's from the girls which makes me smile.
"We've got to go now. Thank you so much for your support," he informs them, hugging each of them tightly one more time.
They wave us off as we walk away, back in the direction of the car. It's like he could read my mind. It's getting late and this sun has been draining. I wanted to go to the pier but we'll have to save that for another day, I'm way too tired.
I watch him walk around the car after closing my door and after looking around, drop into his seat.
"That was really nice of you back there," he declares as we ride down the road.
I look up from my phone and shrug, "It wasn't anything she didn't need to hear. I hope you telling them they're hot got the message through their head."
He laughs, "I did not use the word hot, they're underage."
I close my eyes and lean my head against the headrest, laughing, "That didn't stop Kylie and Tyga."
He cackles at that, the way he does when he finds something unbearably funny. It makes me laugh harder.
"But all jokes aside, I'm sure that meant a lot to her. I know it would've meant a lot to me at sixteen. Hell, it would've at twenty."
The laughter on his side of the car dies down at the cynicism in my voice, the air inside feeling a little thicker.
"What do you mean?" he asks after a while of silence.
I don't know how to answer him.
"Well, funny story actually. I dated a guy for two years with no title, he did me horribly wrong and made me lose all self-respect, self-love, and self-worth."
Nope. That's the quickest way to end up un-friended. Like I always say, tell your sob stories to your pillow at night and leave them there.
Instead of answering I pretend to be asleep until I actually drift off.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
What's up my good people!!!!
I hope yall enjoyed the chapter! It's up a little later than I'd like but school has started back and unfortunately I'm taking a Biology class this semester (pray for me) so I'm trying to stay on top of things there.
This chapter's goal...
I wanted to give yall a little more insight into their friendship and the closeness there. However the most important moment was towards then end when they were dancing and Harry helped her calm her anxiety. As someone who suffers from an anxiety disorder it was SO important for me to add this moment into their story. People who don't have to face this issue might not see it as significant but it is so imperative that you have a partner who understands your disease. The way he noticed she was at the cusp of an attack without her even saying a word, and then his immediate action to focus her attention and distract her from the thing giving her anxiety meant the difference between her going into a full on panic and not.
It showed his investment into their relationship to me, as well as seeming like a very "Harry" thing to do. I don't know maybe I'm weird but whatever lol
Leave me a comment if you dug that part or even understand wtf I mean :)
F.Y.I. There will be times in the story when I don't have an outfit photo to post along with the chapter so to fill that space I'll post photos of what I imagine Harry's (in this story) house to look like. I'll let yall know what the picture is of in the AN.
SIDE NOTE: We didn't reach the goal I had for the last chapter for the extra chapter on my birthday but that's okay! I thank you all who did vote and read anyway :)
This chapter's song...
I Wanna Know by Joe. I honestly LOVE this song. It's an oldie but a goodie and definitely one of my faves. I feel like when street performers do their thing they normally perform current stuff then throw in an "old school" song that catches people's attention because they aren't expecting to hear it so that's kind of what I alluded to here. I really wanted the first time they danced together to be to a song that was meaningful as well as relatable to their relationship so I chose this one.
As for new follower S/O's...
This time we have: blackskye03, DojaUchis, BRANISOSOSWEET, BermeshiaHolland, PoloonzForsythia, naite24, ecclipse, official, nes1999x and Let_MyFreak!!!!
Thanks so much for following and I hope I don't disappoint!
Invite your friends to read and follow and leave me some feedback in the comments!! I love hearing from yall!!!!
Until Next Time,
WBN