The Only Exception | W2S

TWENTY ONE.

OKAY BEFORE YOU READ THIS AND RIP ME TO SHREDS JUST TRUST THE PROCESS OKAY?? TRUST!! THE!! DAMN!! PROCESS!!!! (and then trust it again and again and again because this will not be an easy nor straightforward ride xxx)

Also, I've decided I'm making my chapters shorter. I always feel such a huge pressure to make my chapters like 2k+ words long, but sometimes they make sense being shorter, this one especially. I'm just gonna relax the standards I seem to rigorously press on myself 😭. I hope that's okay <3

"That's the problem with having a public relationship, I suppose. Everyone knows your business."

"It was tough. It's the reason that I made my own rule that I wouldn't date anybody remotely famous anymore."

Harry was fast asleep. In my room. In my bed. 

I was curled up next to him, painfully aware of his presence, one of his arms lazily wrapped around me, keeping me close. 

Now that the alcohol had worn off, and I was sober once again, the memories of last night crashed down upon me like a truck travelling way over the speed limit. 

I would be lying to myself if I said I regretted it. 

Was it a sensible thing for me to have done? No. 

Yet, here we both were, in my room, in my bed. 

"Morning," he drawled gruffly, startling me. His voice was deep, and it was evident he'd only just woken up. 

From the tone of his voice, he didn't seem surprised, or upset that he was here, in my bed with me, which made me feel guilty for how I felt. 

"Good morning," I replied, cursing myself for how stiff and awkward I sounded. 

I felt his body move, as he rolled over and propped himself up with his spare hand, his eyes now open, and looking at me.

"Are you okay?" He asks, trying to search for an answer in my face. 

It seemed he'd found one, and his eyebrows creased. 

"This -" I start, gesturing to him, to me, to - us. "This can't happen again," I say bluntly, because I know if I don't say it now, I won't say it. 

"Holly -" he stammers, looking confused, bewildered - hurt. 

"We were drunk," I whisper, like that was an excuse for it all. 

"Did I - did I do something wrong? Overstep?" He asks, and the genuine confusion and hurt on his face feels like it'll be the death of me. Like he will be the death of me. 

I shake my head, pausing and closing my eyes for a moment. "No," I say with a sigh. "No, you were - you were perfect," I reply, the words escaping my lips before I have a moment to control myself. "This is just - I can't."

"You can't, or you won't?" he countered, his tone sharper now, a challenge I wasn't ready for.

The silence that followed was heavy, his words sinking in and settling like stones in my stomach.

"Both," I finally admitted, my voice small and unconvincing, as though I didn't quite believe it myself.

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair, a bitter half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Right," he said softly, more to himself than to me.

And just like that, the distance between us grew, even though he hadn't moved an inch.

"I should head back to my room. Before Kon hassles us for the last bit of filming. I guess I'll see you at breakfast," he spoke quietly, completely devoid of emotion. 

It was my fault. I knew it was my fault, but it hurt. Last night already felt like years ago, and in a sense I yearned for it to happen again. I knew it couldn't, and it felt cruel, even just to think about it. 

"Alright," I mumbled weakly, feeling cold the instant he left the bed, hearing the door open and shut behind him. 

Self-preservation, I kept telling myself. I couldn't afford to allow someone the potential to ruin me again. I just couldn't. Even if that person was him. 

-

The rest of the day passed by like a blur. Filming was sparse, and spread thin. We were so busy trying to head back to the airport and catch our flight, that it hadn't given Harry and I a lot of time to spend time one-on-one with each other. 

It was probably for the best. At times, I was afraid to even look at him. Afraid that one look at him would give everything away. Afraid that I would break. Afraid that all of my hard work would be for nothing. 

It wasn't until we actually arrived to the airport, and Kon had excused himself to grab some food that we were left together. 

"Do you want to go for a cigarette?" He asked, acting as if the previous night hadn't happened. 

It seemed like he was trying to move past it, and although it confused me, I couldn't fault him for it. 

"Alright, yeah. Okay," I agreed, following him as we navigated our way through the airport, trying to locate the smoking area. 

It wasn't too crowded out there, and we managed to find an empty corner, where Harry passed me a cigarette. 

"Harry, about last night -" I start to say, our conversation from this morning still bugging me. 

"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're going to ask," he replies, looking back at me with the cigarette in between his lips. Damn him and his genetics. 

I felt my cheeks going red. "I - uh, yeah, I mean I was going to get to that, but -"

"Look, Holly," he says, his tone sounding more serious this time. "I got the impression that there were no feelings involved, that it was just one night. I'm sorry for thinking it was more," he says, and it physically pains me that it's come across that way.

The correct thing for me to do, in the nature of self preservation, would be to agree with his words. But unfortunately, at the root of it all, it just wasn't who I was. I was a woman who chased after the truth, who hated to lie, and so my next words came out without thinking. Perhaps they would be the very thing to change the trajectory of my life. 

"No! Of course there were feelings involved -" I spoke adamantly, shutting up immediately when I realised what I'd just admitted. 

Harry looks completely taken aback by my revelation, meanwhile I'm struggling to avoid burying my face in my hands. 

"So it wasn't just a one night stand?" He asks, raising his eyebrow. 

"No - yes - no - I don't know!" I stammer, feeling like I'd thrown myself into the deep end, struggling to put my thoughts and feelings into words. 

His lips twitched - almost like he was trying to smile, but his eyes were serious. "You're not the only one," he admits, although it's vague, and it leaves me confused. 

"Not the only one what?" I ask, which is perhaps a stupid question, but my nervous brain decides it's a reasonable thing to ask. 

"With feelings, Holly. There were feelings involved on my side, too," he says quietly, and then says no more, anticipating my response. 

Yet again, the words fall from my mouth before I have time to stop them. 

"It'll pass."