Summer Love - Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 19

Harry and I walk home in the pouring rain. We're joking and laughing and I see how truly amazing he is. He's not just cheeky perverted sweet sexy Harry. He's honestly perfect. He's my perfect.

We walk up the steps to the house and I'm about to grab the door handle when Harry grabs my wrist.

"Wait," he says. I turn and look up at him, biting my lip. He stutters for a bit before taking a big breath.

"I love you," he chokes out. I feel like a bag of bricks has hit me square in the chest. That's the shock of his words. He said it first? I never would have thought in a million years he would love me. That he would feel that strongly about me. Me. I don't have to even hesitate to respond.

"I love you too," I say with a smile. He looks the most relieved I've seen him. Did any part of him really think I wouldn't love him? Preposterous. He leans down and kisses me, pulling back after a moment. We walk in and all the boys are standing there looking at us with odd faces.

"...what?" I ask, slowly heading towards the stairs, Harry following.

"Have fun?" Zayn winks. I roll my eyes. Louis gives me a look.

"We are definitely talking later," he whispers as I walk by him. I give him a nod. I knew he would want details, he's my best friend. At the top of the stairs I turn to Harry.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," I say.

"Can I join?" He says and gives me a wink.

"In your dreams Styles," I laugh. His eyes get wide.

"Who told you about those dreams? Did you read my diary?" He gasps. I burst out laughing and walk into my room. Like most people, I spend an enormous amount of time in shower thinking about the most inner workings and thoughts of life. This time, I think about the events of today. Harry took me on what was probably the best day of my life. He told me he loved me. Me. He loved me. Boring, weird, unappealing me. The funny part is how much I love him too.

I don't think I've ever been this genuinely happy. I'm living with my brother, who is my best friend, my other best friend Lou, and two of the best guys I've met. Then there's Harry. He's the most amazing boyfriend and I'm so happy with him. He's just perfect.

My stomach twists at the thought that makes it's way into my head. Tomorrow Harry is telling the world about us. Am I ready? Ready for all the hate? The fans gone crazy? The shocked world? Feeling so exposed and open to the globe? I realize I've been thinking here for half an hour. Oops. I hop out and quickly get changed and there's a knock on my door. I open it to find Louis. I had forgotten we were supposed to talk. He runs through the door and bounces into the bed.

"Tell. Me. Everything," he says like a girl. I laugh and sit on the bed. I tell him everything that happened at the beach, right up to when we were walking home.

"That's so romantic!" He says, hugging a pillow to his chest.

"And then at the door.....he-he told me he loved me," My words hang in the air for a moment until Louis screams high pitched.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!" He repeats. I can't help but smile. I look at the floor, embarrassed.

"What'd you say?!" Louis squeals.

"I said I loved him too," I reply. He takes my hands.

"But did you mean it?" He asks, looking into my eyes more seriously than I've ever seen him.

"I really did."

*Harry and I sit in the cushy red seats. I can't believe he did this for me. He hates opera. The plump woman lets her voice ring out through the room. From the floor to the ceiling, the whole house shakes. Her voice, clear and loud, is impeccable. I have to admit she's got an incredible voice, but I'm starting to get a little bored. I lean over to his ear.

"Wanna get out of here?" I ask.

"I thought you'd never ask," he says and gets up. We walk out onto the giant platform, our hands interlaced. He looks at me deeply.

"Paige, I-" I hear a bang that makes my ears pop. Harry drops to the ground and I see the bullet in his back, his limp hand still attached to mine.

I stumble back and let out a scream. I scream again and again and again. Then I realize that he's dead. It's done. He's gone.

I run to him and hug his lifeless body, sobbing into his silent chest. I feel myself soaking his shirt. I know that inside that shirt, there's a heart that is still. He's gone. Harry Styles, the love of my life, my one and only, my heart, is gone.

I feel a pair of arms starting to pull me away from him. I scream hysterically for whoever this is to let me go, to leave me with him. But I'm not strong enough. Not stable enough.

Niall pulls me into his arms and I scream and sob into his chest. I use my fists and punch him in the chest, resisting his grasp. He just holds me until I finally give up and slump down into him, refusing to let Harry go.*

I wake up screaming and feel someone slide in beside me, wrapping their arms around me. I recognize it as Niall and cry into his chest. Some dreams, some nightmares, are too real.

“What’s wrong Paige?” Niall coos as he holds me soothingly and strokes my hair. I’m trembling uncontrollably and silently crying. I sit there crying for awhile before I'm able to speak.

“Dream,” I whisper. It comes out as more of a croak so I clear my throat.

“Nightmare,” I correct myself.

He looks at me sympathetically. “Do you want to talk about it?” he says gently.

“C-can you get H-harry?” I whisper, ignoring his question. He nods understandingly before kissing my forehead and sliding out of the crisp sheets, taking his warmth with him. I suddenly feel cold and alone and I find myself still weeping. Not a sobbing hysterical cry, but a quiet cry that states I am shaken and scared. I feel smaller than ever huddled with my knees to my chest, in this giant bed, in a place that has not been my home for long. I’m a small school girl who got a scraped knee in the playground hoping someone notices I’m hurt. I feel small, fragile, delicate, young. Then I feel dumb. It’s just a stupid dream, Paige. Grow up.

I hear discussion in the hall then the door inches open and I find Harry standing in the doorway. The hole where the bullet once seeped through his flesh is gone. The light is back in his eyes. He is wearing pyjama pants, no shirt. I manage a weak smile, feeling foolish for getting all worked up over a dream I had. But it felt so real. He rushes over to the bed and slips between the covers. In a sitting position, he just holds me for a while. He probably knows I don’t feel like talking. I appreciate it. After a few minutes that seem like an hour, he lets go and faces me.

“What happened, Paige?” he asks, concern seeping all over his face.

“I had a n-nightmare, I know it’s dumb...” I say, trailing off and laughing at myself, wiping my cheeks.

He pauses for a few moments before speaking slowly. “What was it about?” He looks like he genuinely cares. I feel my face turning red and a new set of tears flush down my face. Looking at the bead-spread, I whisper in the smallest voice I have ever used,

“Losing you.” Harry looks at me and wipes the tears from my face with his thumb. When I look up I see his eyes are clouded. I let out a sad breathy chuckle.

“Why are you crying?” I ask, stroking his cheek with my fingertips. He leans in and whispers against my lips, “Because I would never leave you.” He diminishes the space between us and his lips brush mine. He kisses me like he’s afraid I’ll break if he pushes any harder, which I’m grateful for, because I think I might. It’s the softest, most gentle kiss I have ever shared with anyone. And the most amazing. It’s not a make-out session where his tongue is down my throat that says “I want in your pants.” It’s so...real. And if this kiss could talk, if it could deliver one message to me, it would be ‘I love you.’ And I receive that message loud and clear. I curled up in his arms going back to sleep with him by my side, still alive and breathing.