Fireside (Harry Styles/One Direction)

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I know how it goes, it's the same old cycle, I'll stay seated at the bar, but meet his eyes from across the room a few times, he'll walk towards the bar, stand next to me and offer to buy me a drink, I'll accept his offer, tell him what I'm drinking and he will pass the message on to the bartender, as easily as I could have done myself, he will then sit down on the seat next to me and introduce himself, George or Andrew, they're all the same, it never matters. We'll spend a few hours talking, he'll buy me another drink, he might even ask me to dance, eventually he will invite me back to his place and we will have sex. I will leave as soon as he falls asleep, leave him with nothing more than a memory, but he won't care, because I gave him what he wanted was not someone to love, it was someone to fuck, that's all it is, all it will ever be. That's how it goes, night after night, time after time.

However, that's not how it goes, not anymore, what really happens is, once in a while I'll go to a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, I will sit at the bar, drink my drink, ignore advances, stumble home and then cry. Other nights, when I have more responsibility the next day, I curl up on my couch and stare at the television, looking but not seeing.

It had been nearly a year since I'd dropped out of university, months since I'd even spoken to the people I had called my friends, but it didn't matter, it never did. My family tried, but eventually gave up, they had their own lives to live, so inevitably, I was alone.

It was a Friday night, after work, I went to the bar, sat in my usual seat and ordered my usual drink. I knew that I wasn't supposed to drink, I knew that alcohol and the medication didn't mix, but despite that, I took a tentative sip.

There was a new bartender, a blonde Irishman who was loud and friendly and seemed to get along with everyone he spoke to, it was refreshing. I couldn't help but admire the way he interacted with the customers,  he looked like he enjoyed life more than anyone else in the pub.

"You should see him when he's high, then he really won't shut up." I looked to my left, at the man who had spoken, he was wearing a ridiculously patterned button down, but only half the buttons were done up which exposed the swallows tattooed on his chest, his hair was long and pulled back into a bun, his eyes were so green they reminded me of the emerald stone on one of the rings my mother used to wear when I was a child.

"It's nice," was my reply, because it was nice.

"Oi Harry, can I get ye something?" the Irishman called, it was directed at the man on my left and his name was Harry. It suited him.

"Yeah please Ni, something sugary." He replied with a grin.

The bartender, Ni, pulled a face. "Even the lady is drinking something stronger than that, you embarrass me." I laughed because Harry looked at my drink and then the expression became that somewhat of outrage.

"Alright Horan, I'll have what the lady is drinking." Ni, the bartender smiled wide, excitedly even. He poured the drink and placed it in front of Harry on the bar, who was watching Ni's each step dubiously.

"This one must be trying to impress you because he never drinks anything stronger than a pink drink." Ni informed me, then winked and turned around to serve someone else. That's when I understood, Harry was just another boy in a bar, who thought that I was just another girl in a bar.

Harry took a sip of his drink and pulled a face, then asked, "So what's your name?"

I could lie to him, he'd never know, nor would he care, but instead I blurted name like the idiot I was. "Anna, and you're Harry?" he nodded.

"Well Anna, it is lovely to meet you." Harry raised his glass to me and then took another small sip. Anyone could tell that he really wasn't enjoying his drink, but like a trooper, he sipped until it was all gone, when the glass was empty he looked relieved.

"Are you waiting for your friends? We're here..." Harry pointed at a group of people, "to celebrate Niall's first shift here." I looked around and saw old faces, but also new faces; the bar was a lot busier than it had been in weeks.

"I'm just here to drink." I told Harry bluntly before raising my glass to my lips and finishing it in one gulp. Abruptly I stood up, pushing my stool back, grabbed my belongings and walked right out of the bar, not sparing Harry a second glance.

Usually by the time I left the bar I was several drinks in and the bartender was threatening to cut me off. It was the start of winter and bone chilling cold was beginning to set in, my thin sweater just wasn't enough to stop the cold from leeching through my body and draining any of the heat I had left.

At that point, I regretted going to the bar altogether, I was cold, miserable and the words 'alcohol is a depressant' were running through my brain, the words consumed my senses; it was all I could hear, it was all I could see. I had to stop walking and just lean back against the closest wall and breathe.

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'You are nothing'

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'You should just stay out in the cold and freeze'

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'No one will miss you'

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Vaguely, in the distance, I could hear someone calling my name, but they sounded so far away, almost as if I were underwater.

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I hadn't realised my eyes were closed until I felt cold hands against my cheeks, I pried my eyes open, my vision was blurry, I couldn't focus.

"Anna," the person sounded closer now, louder, clearer.

"Anna, look at me." The person sounded unsure now, as if they had no idea what they were doing.

I tried to focus, I tried to concentrate, it felt like I would never get it right, until I did. My vision cleared for the most part, I blinked trying to chase the black dots away, eventually, I saw, it was Harry, the guy from the bar. Harry had his cold hands on my cheeks; it was his voice I had heard.

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I still couldn't comprehend what had happened, I still had no idea what was going on around me, all I knew for sure was I was shaking from the cold. The sound of my teeth chattering seemed to wake Harry from what ever trance he was in, he let go of my face to pull off the large coat he was wearing to drape it over my shoulders. He then put his arm around me and started rubbing his hand up and down my arm, as if to try and warm me up. "Come on Anna, let's get you home, can you tell me where you live?"

I nodded and then rattled off my address,I wasn't thinking, I didn't know a single thing about him, but he seemed to know where I lived because he started walking, leading me forward with him, it was a less than ten minute walk. It took a while before I could think straight, my mind seemed like it was clouded, but I had to think around it, try and figure out why that happened, it had been months last since something like that happened to me, months since I'd last had an episode.

Harry and I did not speak, he seemed to understand that I didn't want to, that or he didn't want to either, eventually we stopped outside my building, he let go of me, I began to take off his coat before he stopped me, "keep it, at least until you get inside." Harry was kind, but it wasn't sympathy I saw in his eyes, it was almost a look of understanding.

"Thank you," my voice was thick, as if I'd been crying. He nodded and watched my every move until I was inside the building, my flat was on the first floor, I climbed each step with difficulty, it felt as though all my energy had been drained from my body.

That night, I stumbled towards my couch and fell asleep using his coat for warmth.

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