Timeless [h.s]

Two

"Because I am a Stuart. Which means my parents obliged me to study our royal ancestors. It was silly, but I enjoyed the gossip more than what history books could tell. Turns out one of my fellow queens used to have an affair with an ancestor of yours." I realised this had been the most I had spoken the entire night, and Harry seemed genuinely surprised. On the inside I felt quite smug, briefly wondering what would happen if he ever found out I was that precise queen, standing in front of him. He would never, my subconscious reminded me. I shouldn't be flaunting my knowledge, or better, my own life story like that, but it felt natural. My heart still pounded erratically whenever I looked into Harry's eyes. The similarities, the blood lineage, it was all to much. It poked ancient wounds that never healed, making me feel uncomfortable, in a daze. I worried that this cautiously fabricated moment would vanish and leave me behind sweaty and saddened, waking up in my bed with nothing but the desire to have the old Harry beside me.

"Okay, that was creepy in a very nice way. You have royal blood and I descend from a queen's lover. Does that mean we can be blood related on some instance?" His mind was swirling with possibilities, I could see it. Green irises stared intently into my own as I shook my head.

"Most likely not. Queen Marie didn't have kids, she died at our age." I told him, disappointment filling his face. I had no idea why I had just exposed myself for a stranger, but he wasn't just any stranger.

He was a modern version of the only man I had truly loved, and the similarities made me think slower. I was not supposed to go around divulging my surname or my knowledge on court, but I knew Harry was bound to forget it. We were in the middle of an empty ice cream parlour, discussing surnames at two in the morning. Not the most memorable situation.

"Is it weird the fact that I feel happier about or non-relativeness?" He asked with a cheeky smile, and I recognised immediately the flirty tone of his comment. He was sweet, but too oblivious for his own good.

"Mr Styles, your seemingly flirtatious comment baffles me." I spoke in a posh accent, much like what I did in court. There was a hint of pink across his cheeks, but it vanished quickly, a dimpled smile replacing the display of shyness.

"Sorry about that." He spoke cheekily. "I thought I had made myself pretty clear. I only throw those parties so I can find a random royal-blooded girl, feed her ice cream and then make seemingly flirtatious comments." I laughed at his boyish answer, realising that he was a pretty confident guy. It was nice knowing he carried himself so well around women. Perhaps a family trait, I thought to myself.

"I don't mind. I just wanted to see you blush." I spoke, and he laughed at my comment. The carefree banter felt all too familiar, and I kept chanting inside my head how insanely wrong this was. I had to research Harry and find out why he looked exactly like my own Harry. I would most likely come up empty handed, but it was worth the shot. I hadn't had anything remotely useful, any real leads about why I hadn't been ageing for centuries, and despite the impossibility of it all, I sensed that the modern Harry Styles was my first real clue in forever.

"You surely succeed." He admitted, and I nodded, looking down at my watch. It was past two in the morning and I had no idea what Sienna and Arthur were doing. For a moment I wondered if they'd be polite enough to wait for me, or if they'd leave me behind in case they couldn't find me. The last thing I wanted was going back home on my own.

"You know, I had never seen you before tonight. Where have you been hiding, Charlotte?" At home, I mentally answered.

"I'm not particularly fond of those parties. Too much alcohol and drugs for my liking." I knew that not many people shared my point of view, so I wanted to see what Harry would answer. Maybe he would be disappointed with my not so enticing self and leave me alone. That would be the best outcome. If he thought I was cute but prudish and uninteresting, our paths would follow their natural course and he wouldn't be in the middle of my mess.