Dear Iris [h.s]

chapter ten.

Harry Styles

"Harry!" Somebody shouted from behind me on my walk back home. I turned around to see Thomas, Iris' brother walking to catch up to me, which is concerning, he never willingly wants to talk to me.

I bet it'll have something to do with me letting Harper go to her studio yesterday.

"You coming for dinner tomorrow?" He asked me, catching up so he was walking beside me.

"No, not this week." I told him, keeping my head down. "I'm busy."

"No worries mate," Thomas smiled, "Probably best you stay away from Iris anyway."

It's draining. It really is bloody drinking constantly having him and George on my back about a girl I want fuck all to do with. If I was friends with her fair enough, but we're ot even friends, barely even acquaintances. I do not care for Iris, and I do not have the slightest idea why it is such a big deal to them.

"Thomas, I-"

"Hey, I'm not pointing the finger here man, just giving you advice from one guy to another." He explains with a smile on his face, a fake one of course. "I'm just saying, she's crazy. You get me?"

I nodded. Whilst I don't really agree with what he's saying to me, the whole 'she's crazy' thing, that is, I just agreed anyway to save myself a battle. Knowing him' Iris being crazy will just be because she reacted to him being horrible one time, but who am I to argue when I'm just as bad?

"I don't want anything to do with Iris." I tell him through a sigh.

"Good lad." Thomas gave my shoulder a little squeeze before taking his arm back. "Honestly, she's a massive burden and if George is offering to deal with that then let him. Pfft, it takes her out of our hands."

"She is your sister." I mumbled quietly, growing more frustrated over the fact he keeps telling me, to stay away from her, when I don't even want anywhere near her.

"Barely." Thomas chuckled, lighting up a cigarette as he continued walking by my side. "Her last guy was fucking brave, I tell you that. Honestly, the girls a headcase."

I just let out a breathy laugh, not really waiting to contribute to calling women insane because they disagree with you, but knowing that little laugh is safer than actually telling him he's being a misogynist. Then again, that's probably a word too big to exist in his vocabulary.

"Annyway, good chat Harry." He says, giving me a 'friendly' elbow into my side. "See you at the next dinner or something, yeah? Have a good one."

"See you." I said with half a smile, celebrating literally that he was turning the corer dow a different street and I was finally left to walk home myself again. I hate when people disrupt my peace, especially when it's Thomas or George.

I'm a simple guy. I don't ask for much besides some peace and to be left alone. I find comfort in being lonely and I'm not really a people's person. Growing up as the outsider kind of makes you that way, and you can either try to change it or get used to it. I chose the latter.

What's the point in having all of these relationships with people just for the sake of it? Those aren't real friendships. It's so hard to have a real genuine friendship in a town where if you don't follow the societal expectations you're looked down on, therefore it really is easier to be alone.

I got home to my house and made tea, because there's something about working with a cup of tea which is really sadly motivating. Maybe not to people like my dad, but when your whole job is writing, it's great.

I write articles for the local newspaper under a pseudonym. It's for their section about books, recommending a different book everyday with a review of it. That's why I have to read so much, it is quite literally my job.