No Matter What // Harry Styles AU -- Dunkirk inspired

Chapter Sixty-Nine

"It's stunning," I tell him. "I've never gotten a gift as wonderful as this. I hope you didn't spend too much on me."

"Don't worry about that." Harry scoffs. "I really wanted to get you something so that when I'm away, you'll think of me."

"Have plans on leaving me?" I jest.

Harry smiles politely, but he doesn't laugh. 

"I might not always be around, but just know, I love you infinitely."

"Where do you think you're going?" I laugh nervously.

"Doesn't matter." he shakes his head. "Can I put it on you?"

"Yes, please," I say, still a bit confused by his confession. He delicately places the locket around my neck as I pull up my hair. It's cold and smooth the touch except for the tiniest two hearts engraved in the center.

"Its you and me," he says as I trace over the two hearts. I look up at him, now fully convinced I can never leave this room, and kiss him deeply.

"I shall wear it forever," I confess. "I promise."

Harry grins at me like he's just won the lottery. He grabs me and I fall back against his chest. We hold each other there in the darkness of his hotel room for a few minutes more, wishing we would could stay like this for eternity. But we know eternity can't start yet, and so with a final kiss, I bid Harry farewell, escape out of his room, down the hall and into my room next door.

I change into my pajamas and crawl back into bed, hoping for at least another hour of sleep, once I see that it's only 5:30 am. It's hard to do, though, knowing now what it's like to sleep so closely with Harry. I'm mesmerized by the thought of touching him in such an intimate way again and I just want to keep exploring his perfect body. 

After thirty minutes of torturous thoughts, I end up giving up on trying to sleep. It's no use as my body aches to hold Harry again and my brain swirls with questions about if we've moved too fast or not fast enough. I decide to dress for the day and quickly wash my face and brush out my pinned curls from yesterday. I figure it shouldn't hurt anyone to go for a brisk walk so I can get my wits around me.

I grab my wool coat and pin my hat neatly to my head before heading out. As I walk out into the hallway though, I can't help but notice that today's paper is missing from the front of Uncle Ben's room and that the door is open just a jar. Figuring he must be awake, I lightly knock, wondering if he might like to join me for an early morning stroll.

He doesn't answer, though. I hear the light chatter of either Uncle Ben or the radio, and thinking none of it, push open the door.

To my utter shock, there stands Uncle Ben, suspenders undone and shirt unbuttoned, embraced in a tender kiss with Arthur who is just in an undershirt and trousers.

I stand there, jaw on the floor, cheeks burning red.

"Uncle Ben?" I stammer.

"Hazel!" Uncle Ben screams and pushes Arthur away.

Wide-eyed, I turn and run out of the room. I quickly dart towards the elevator, frantically head downstairs and practically run out the lobby. As I make my way through the quiet streets of London, my brain runs through a plethora of crashing thoughts.

Did I really see what I think I saw?

Was Uncle Ben a.. a.. homosexual?

I find a park bench and sit down, clutching my coat tightly to keep me warm from the cold Christmas morning. 

Two men doing what I think I saw... no- what I know I saw.. was wrong.

Wasn't it?

For as little as I knew about relations with the opposite sex, I knew even less about such.. such perversions. I had only heard of such things from the chatter in some of the jazz clubs I had tried to sneak into with Tom back home. I mostly just found it confusing. 

Was Uncle Ben a pervert? 

I sit back against the park bench, shuddering as snow begins to fall more heavily.

Uncle Ben's solitary life suddenly makes a lot more sense. But, at this realization, a sudden overwhelming sense of sadness washes over me- Harry and I have lived in secret for just a few months- what must it be like to live a whole life like that? I ponder this as the snow settles on my shoulders and the brim of my hat. I twirl the locket Harry gave me this morning in my hand, praying it'll give me some answer.

I'm uncomfortable not knowing- not understanding. I crave a clear cut answer- some hard rule about whether or not this is right or wrong. But instead I'm left with two dueling feelings- a restlessness with the unease of seeing two men kissing as I've only seen a man and woman do, and the immense love and admiration I have for Uncle Ben and his character. 

When I thought about Uncle Ben, I thought of his gentle disposition, his overwhelming kindness, and general unassuming nature. He was downright one of the sweetest people I'd ever met. And, at the heart of it, I don't want him to be lonely- but what kind of life was a life kept in secret?

It's then that I realize- there's very little different between Harry and I and Uncle Ben and Arthur. We both committed sins in secret in the name of love. Or at least, I think in the name of love... 

Again, I shudder, although whether it's from the bitter cold or from my growing confusion, I'm unclear. I decide that it's time to return to the hotel. I would have to face Uncle Ben, but I make a resolution to not speak of what I witnessed. It was his business and in my confused state, would reserve judgement until I had time to think it over. With that, I begin the walk back, praying to god Uncle Ben doesn't say anything and together we can move on from this.