Pour | Harry Styles

chapter fourteen

a/n: this is dedicated to @xTeenageLoverx because her comment on the last chapter was so thoughtful and kind [and i also stalked her account and found and she was muslim like me holla]. i'm currently on hiatus and i haven't update din ages but it's thankgiving break and it's 2 a.m. [club] (hannah, did you see me reference your favorite band?) and i was reading a fanfic at like 1 and then i wanted to write so i did. i actually started writing this chapter a while ago but i got frustrated with everything and then stopped writing it and finished it tonight. it's so short that i should probably be hit on the head with a pan, but i hope you like it anyway. i hope this a good, i have a knawing feeling that it's not. i promise that chapter fifteen will be better and longer. thank you for over 30,000 reads as well. i love you all. please stay lovely and if you like this chapter, vote and comment! :-)

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Immediately, Lily’s eyes widened and she backed out of the hug.

“Oh, no.” She groaned, running a hand through her hair. “They knew about me before but they knew me as a close friend of yours and was it ‘cause I got all nervous in the interview? Is it my fault I—”

Harry grabbed Lily’s shoulders, interrupting her to say, “It’s not your fault, Lily. The fans are always suspicious about any of my female friends. I told management no with some colorful words added when they suggested something like faking a relationship. We’re just going to leave this news alone and deny any rumors of us dating so don’t worry. But you are going to have to be more careful going out now; no more casual visits to Cuppa Yogurt with satan—I mean, Angela.”

Although worry about the situation was still with Lily, she cracked a smile. “Really, Harry? ‘Satan?’”

“She very well could be him! She’s a proper—”

“Friend of your best friend!” Lily finished before he could insult Angela. “Please lighten up on the insults. I have no clue why you hate her so much, but let’s get back to what we were talking about. I suppose that’s fine, I mean, I’ve only got a bit of the summer to deal with this, and I could just have Angela come over or go over her place instead, right?”

Harry scrunched his nose. “Eh, not so sure that going over her place would be such a great idea. I think you should lay low unless you’re with me. You’re a little weak physically and a tad sensitive, Lil, the fans will eat you alive and I definitely don’t want that.”

Lily smiled. Really, really smiled. Although she knew she should feel yell about how neither of those two were true—though she had to admit that they were—she found it so utterly endearing that Harry would care so much; that he would only feel she was secure in his vicinity. It was stupid, really, but that’s what love is all about: the stupid things; the pointless conversations, the gifts given at random for no particular reason, the I-love-you’s said late at night because one significant other couldn’t sleep because the reality of you was far better than anything their dreamland could conjure up, the love.

“Thank you, Harry,” left Lily’s lips.

“Thanks? Thanks for what?” he asked, confused.

“Thanks for caring.” ‘And thanks for being my best friend, lighting my day up with your smiles, not minding the flaws I carry,’ Lily’s mind added. While all those things were so lovely and great, ‘thanks for giving me so much heartache’ could easily be added to the end of that list.

“Sometimes you say the dumbest things, Lil,” Harry replied, an amused smile playing on his lips.

Lily’s eyebrows bunched together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you thanking me for caring is stupid. You’re my best friend, it’s an obligation to care; there’s no need to thank me for it. I’ll always care about you . . . even if one day, you may not care so much about me,” he answered, scratching the back of his neck and looking down at the floor at the last few words he spoke.

Lily sighed, slowly closing her eyes and reopening them as she reluctantly wrapped her arm around Harry’s wrist. “Harry, even when it seems as though it’s impossible, I’ll care for you. I always will . . . even if it kills me one day.”

 Harry gulped as his green eyes fluttered down to Lily’s hand on his wrist. It felt as if the air around them were pushing them towards each other. He took a step towards her and let out a faint chuckle. “It may just; I’m a handful.”

Closer and closer Harry and Lily moved, though it didn’t feel as if they were doing so. It felt as if the particles between them were disappearing and reappearing around their hearts that were hammering so loudly; both hearts hammering because they were unsure of different things.

Surprisingly, it was a Lily that turned away. She picked up her and Harry’s tea cup and walked to the kitchen to dump them in the sink. She didn’t look at Harry. She knew he’d look grateful though, because if she hadn’t pulled away, he would. She spared making him do so. This moment the two had together would happen sometimes on their Sundays together. They’d get a little too close (as Harry reassures himself in his mind) and almost do something that wasn’t for them (as Harry reassures himself in his mind).

Lily would forget about it though—especially now. They’d just made up and Lily wanted to abandon all of her romantic thoughts for Harry Edward Styles for as long as possible because it was at this moment Lily decided that she was tired; love was tiring. She’d much rather be a best friend to Harry than some girl who uselessly loved him.

She was going to stop loving him; stop loving his voice, and his pink lips, and the way he smirks at everything, and his silliness, and everything that makes him Harry.

First part of not loving Harry Styles: don’t list the things that make you love Harry Styles.