into the storm [h.s.]

three

A rush of heat and the odd feeling of nostalgia engulfed Libby as she entered the Styles' home. She had walked through the front door many times but it had been a while since she had done so.

She was very familiar with the house. She would often be found here after school in the living room with Harry - when he wasn't out with friends his own age - arguing lively about the better programme to put on TV. The Styles' house was always a second home for Libby, a place of consolation and welcome when it wasn't provided at her own house, so it was strange and almost disheartening for her to enter once again and feel so out of place.

Harry slammed the door shut behind her, trapping out the harsh cold. He sighed and ran his lean fingers through his hair before looking upon the damp girl.

"God, you're soaking!" He helped Libby peel off her jacket. "I think we have some of Gemma's clothes around here. I'll try and find them for you."

He went off down the hallway, leaving Libby to look around aimlessly and realise the house was empty. "Where are your parents?"

"Oh, they've gone away for the week to a wedding," he called to her. "I didn't come back into town to see my parents anyway. I saw them recently when they came up to see how I was doing in uni."

"So why are you back in town?"

Harry appeared with clothes neatly folded in his arms. He handed them to her with a small smile. "My conscience just needed a bit of reminiscence."

***

When Libby stepped out of the bathroom with her skin flushed and warm in Gemma's pyjamas and the reminder of home being pushed to the back of her mind, Harry was sat in front of the television, comfortably sprawled on the sofa. There was the gentle crackling of wood in the fireplace and the slow buzz of electricity which somehow seemed to blur the constant, violent drumming of rain into a therapeutic rhythm.

Everything was still for a moment.

When he noticed Libby, Harry smiled at her. She stared at him. His smile was genuine and welcoming, with more warmth than the fireplace held to the room.

Was his smile always like that?

"Did you want a tea?"

Everything was in movement again as he jumped up to the kitchen. The fire flickered and the television's audio clarified. The rhythm of the rain picked up pace. Libby looked away from him and sat herself at the kitchen table.

"Yeah, please. Three-"

"Three sugars because two sugars aren't enough for your sweet tooth and four spoons of milk because you like your tea to be a certain shade of brown."

She blinked at him incredulously. "You remembered?"

"It's been six months, not six years, Libby," He smiled, echoing what she had said previously in the car. "And anyways, it was hard to forget after all the times you made me make you a cup."

"I'm sure you have to remember tons at university. I wouldn't think you'd remember how to make me a cup of a tea to my liking on top of all of that."

"Anything about you would come on top of that."

Libby made an attempt to control her pleased smile.

"Oh, I called your mum to tell her you were here."

The smile she tried to conceal had disappeared completely. "Oh yeah?" She said, keeping her voice smooth and her eyes drawn on the television but her heart began to race at the mention of her mother.

"Yeah. She said I could bring you home when the rain calms," Harry said.

Libby nodded. Her mum knew there was a storm coming and that it would be hours until the rain calmed with the power it held now. She didn't want Libby home. She wasn't surprised, but it still sent a sinking feeling in her chest.

"Were you only just coming home?" Harry inquired, realisation coming to him suddenly and concern furrowing his brows. "And you were going to walk in this weather?"

"I don't mind the rain," She murmured and slumped her shoulders with a shrug.

Harry placed a cup of tea before Libby and settled into the chair next to her. As she reached out to pick up the cup, she noticed Harry's eyes widen.

"You still have that?"

He was looking at the delicate silver watch on her wrist, a fourteenth birthday present from Harry to Libby.

"Yeah. I need to change the batteries so it's two hours behind but I nearly always have it on."

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, leaning in.

He reached out to her hand and gently brought it up to his face to peer at the accessory. The watch softly gleamed in the low light of the room.

With the close proximity the two were now sitting in, Libby found it hard to not stare at him. Despite the solidity of his presence and appearance, he was so easy to look at and even after having not seen him, there seemed to be no change in Harry.

But with that, there was change in everything else. Harry's absence had almost warped life into a present that was unrecognisable. Libby could even sense change between them. She felt that they were the same people but the different atmosphere that was in place made her wonder if they weren't at the same time.

Harry was looking at her now, bringing her attention back to the room, and though she became aware of this, she couldn't bring herself to look away. The two simply stared at each other, their eyes speaking through looks that the other couldn't decipher.

Then Harry's eyes lightened and his lips softly stretched into a smile different to the one he had greeted her with in the car and different to the one he gave her when she entered the room. He still held her wrist in his hand and was caressing it in light strokes with his thumb before he returned her hand to her lap.

"Your tea's getting cold."

I apologise for how trash this is but this was where I last ended on this story two years ago so I'm just picking up where I left off :)