The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree

Twenty Seven

I decided to tease him even though I know it was probably the furthest thing from true. "You sound jealous."

"Maybe I am... Just a little."

I bit my lip, glancing out toward Ian and Violet dancing like maniacs, the guy that Ian was dancing with before had now left. My chest warms at the idea of Harry picturing me, even from across the world. "Well, you don't need to be." The music got a bit quieter at the song transition, and for a moment, it feels like he's right there with me; smiling at my calm, grounded voice.

I managed to get Violet's attention from the dance floor then decided to slip out the back exit. The bass from inside muffled by the heavy door as it shuts behind me. The night air is cool, streetlamps glowing faintly over the sidewalk. I leaned against the brick wall, phone pressed to my ear.

"Okay, it's quieter out here. What were you saying?"

He hummed before clearing his throat, his voice playful and lighter. "I was saying... I can't wait to get back home."

That intrigued me. But I had to remain neutral. I couldn't let him know I was anticipating his return just as much. "You miss home?"

"Yeah, and something else too."

I sat on the bench away from the people smoking. It was a bit chilly but I could handle it. "What else?"

"Cheeseburgers."

"Cheeseburgers?" I replied, flatly.

He hummed, "Yeah. The ones here don't hit the same. Too clean. Not greasy enough. You know, the real messy ones that drip down your wrist."

I shake my head, laughing softly. "Just cheeseburgers? That's all?"

I could practically hear him smiling, he was teasing me. "Yeah... Well, maybe not just cheeseburgers."

"Oh?" There's a beat of silence, a smile stretching across my face as I waited.

Then Harry's voice appeared, quiet and sincere. "I miss you... I miss holding you in my arms. Miss kissing you until you can't breathe."

My breath hitches, my eyes fluttering shut. I pressed a hand to my chest like I was holding myself together. It's like I could still feel his arms around me. "Harry..."

"Five more days, Vin. Then I'm back. And when I see you, you better not make me wait for that kiss." He replied cheekily, breaking the tension.

"I won't..."

After hanging up with Harry, I went back in and joined Violet and Ian on the dance floor. I hadn't realized how late it was until the bartender shouted "last call". The lights eventually turned on and Ian was getting some guy's number before him and Violet were holding onto my hands and stumbling out of the bar with me.

The drive home was karaoke style, all of us singing our lungs out to old Hannah Montanan songs and we stopped for McDonalds on the way to dropping off Violet and then Ian. Once I was finally home, it was almost three am and I knew Harry was awake, probably in a meeting or working but I decided to call him anyways.

Ring, ring, ring, ring... Voicemail.

So I hung up and sent a quick text,

[2:56 am, her time]

Just made it home. I wanted to hear your voice one more time but I'm exhausted. Talk tomorrow?

Bold but confident. No room for mixed signals. I wanted him to know that taking it slow was still on my mind but so was he, so I pressed send.

I wonder what he was doing at the moment. Dating a busy man could have its perks as well as its disadvantages. Like Harry focusing more on his career than his personal life. This was just one phone call but it's happened before; his past with Diana and Theodore. I don't expect him to have this intense loyalty to me or for me to have his complete and undivided attention. We're barely dating as it is but, I wonder if this is a pattern in his relationships.

I don't remember much information about his past relationships, google is very discreet but I do remember he was always being pictured with women who were opposite of me. Thin. Older. White.

So, after going through my night routine and finally climbing into bed, instead of rolling over and going to sleep like I planned, my busy mind got the best of me.

I typed into the search bar: Tokyo event Harry Styles

Images load instantly. Red carpet. Flashing lights. Harry in his tailored suit, hand through his curls, looking devastatingly handsome as always.

But my eyes lock on one particular photo.

Harry. Arm around a tall, blonde woman. Elegant, maybe late thirties or early forties. A sculpted jawline, sharp cheekbones, the kind of beauty that photographs effortlessly. She's in a sleek black dress, and Harry is smiling down at her like he's known her forever.

I zoomed in. The placement of his arm isn't casual. It's resting firmly against her waist. Not hovering. Not polite. Resting. And the woman's body leans comfortably into his.

The headline underneath: Harry Styles arrives at Tokyo gala with Whitney, fashion icon and collaborator on new project.

My stomach drops.

My mind starts racing.

Well, it already was but now it's going even faster.

Collaborator? Why so close? Why didn't he answer my call?

I didn't realize that I hadn't moved until my phone screen turned black from me not touching it. Was this putting a dent in my plans? Was she really just a collaborator or was she an old friend? Or girlfriend?

Why was his hand on her waist? There were other people in the photo, each standing within a respectful distance of each other, no hands placed on anyone else, just them two.

He looks so at ease with her.

Was she with him all day?

Does she even know I exist?

Why hasn't he texted me back yet?

I sit up on the edge of my bed, heart pounding. I stared at my silent phone, fighting the urge to send another text that says something, anything.

I couldn't be the needy, clingy girlfriend. I'm not like that. I just didn't want this to hinder what I already had with him

We aren't exclusive.

I was the one that pulled away first.

I was the one that agreed to take things slow. He only offered because of my actions.

We've been on two dates. This wasn't anything serious.

He's also older and wiser and more experienced and single. He's been "single" for a while. Only having random hook ups and flings that never seemed to last and then I came barreling in, halting his bachelor lifestyle.

He's used to seeing multiple women at a time, I'm sure. Never really committing and now that I want him to, it'll probably only push him away more.

Do I want him to commit to me?

I want him to want me.

And I want him... No, I need him for my plan to work. I can't get it twisted.

I can't fall for the Styles charm that so easily worked on me the first time around. I'm here for one thing and one thing only: to make Theodore suffer.