Dear Harry,
My day so far has been semi-sweet.
I have been so busy with making all the wedding arrangements that there hasn’t been much time for the wave of sadness to wash over me completely. In the midst of calling wedding bands and taste-testing cakes, I’m also writing up a guest list and reserving a hotel. I feel horrible that you can’t be with me for this process, and I am tempted to halt all the planning until you’re back home, but I think you would like it more if we became husband and wife the moment you arrive. I figure that I have kept you waiting this long, and I am so eager to be referred to as Mrs. Ella Styles.
I remember when I was about eight or nine, before I really understood how I felt about you, I would scribble “Mrs. Ella Styles” in my best cursive on scrap pieces of paper, and cover the blank spaces with hearts and flowers. I was too naive to differentiate our friendship as love, but the thought still makes me smile. If I would have only known how far we’d come…
A break from all this planning was needed, so I ran down to the store and got the ingredients to make my grandmother’s chocolate cookie recipe. While mixing the batter I remembered how this recipe was your absolute favorite, and I’d make them a good three nights a week. I recalled how we would regularly watch an old movie on the couch, while dunking our cookies in milk as if we were still children. I gave into my urge of nibbling at the raw dough, something that I always scolded you for. While forming the dough into balls, I remembered how whenever we baked together, we would both usually end up with flour on our shirts and egg yolks dripping down our heads.
When I bent down to take the cookies out of the oven, I half expected you to come up behind me and grab the tray from my hands- like you always do- partly because you wanted to save me from burning my hands, and partly because you wanted to get first dibs on the biggest cookie. To my disappointment, nothing stopped me from taking them out and carrying the tray to the table. No one was there to fight with me over what movie to watch, or to cuddle me in one of the fuzzy blankets, or run their hands through my hair. There was no one to lay against, no one to giggle with, no one to carry me to bed once I had fallen to sleep. No one to share my cookies with.
It was the epitome of loneliness.
On a much happier note, I am sure you’ll be pleased to hear that our wedding is exactly two weeks after the day you
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Dear Harry (Harry Styles Fanfic)
FanfictionHarry and Ella are in love, and have been for as long as they can remember. When Harry tells her that he has to leave for a year, Ella doesn't take it so well. She copes by writing in a journal, and decides to retell the story of how Harry and Ella...
