New York [harry styles au]

08

"Yeah, I like him too."

"Plus, Beatrix and Smith find you wonderful. Me, I think of you as a sister now." She says, looking to the ground, "I don't know what I'm trying to say, but be careful. It's going to be turmoil here if, I mean when, you leave. You've stayed here for so long, we see you as our own now. I'm going to miss you like shit."

"You don't think this isn't hard on me?" I mumble, feeling dizzy all of a sudden, "I don't know what I'm doing with my life, never mind knowing when I'm going to leave. My exit is going to be difficult for you, I know that, but it's going to hurt me just as much, Angelina." The trees had began to spin around the park and I hadn't realised how much pent-up emotion I held over my future departure from New York, tears began to fall from my eyes as the sky abruptly turned grey with thunder clouds.

"Come here." She hastily reached over and pulled me into her, I put a leg over hers as we shared the same swing and her arm was tightly latched around my body. My head was in her shoulder, I felt bad about the tears soaking the shoulder of her baggy grey cardigan. "I'm sorry, Winona, I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, it's not your fault."

Angelina helped me to calm down and made sure I didn't have any increments still visible from our previous conversation, wiping the leftover tears away. We then parted ways at the entrance of the park, she waved to me with a huge smile before stepping away back into the bustling streets, her hands in her pockets. I turned and made my short way to Harry's apartment. I buzzed, and at first, I heard no answer but the door unlocked anyway which I found strange. My hand went straight to opening the entryway door, allowing me to stride straight inside and up the staircase to the second floor.

I knocked at his door and Harry opened it with a confused expression of seeing me stood there. My eyes peered past him to find Jonathan Golden stood in the kitchen, his hands in his suit pockets, his posture was almost sinister and I assumed he was the one to give me access to Harry's apartment from the receiver.

"Winona, it's great to see you." He pecked my cheek, "I'm just finishing up with Jonathan here, can you go into the bedroom for a little while? Only for a few minutes."

"Sure." I say, taking one more look at him, slight bags forming under his eyes, and then at Jonathan who smirked as though delighted with himself in some way.

When I was in the bedroom, I could hear their muffled voices through the wall but I couldn't make out what they were saying. My eyes then fell onto an empty glass on the bedside table, of which I took and placed gently against the wall, pressing my ear against it.

"I'm sick to death of it." Harry's voice almost cried.

"Sick to death of what? Earning money? Making enough to buy yourself a home? Give me a break, Harry. There's men out there who would give anything to be in your shoes, you've got some nerve."

"Give the job to them, then. They can have it!" Harry replies.

"So, that's it? You're just going to let all this go? All the work you've put into this, you're just throwing it away. Poof. Gone! I can't believe how immature you're being right now, Harry, I thought better of you." A patronising tone laced Jonathan's voice.

"But it's wrong, I want to do something that makes me happy. I don't want to sell drugs to bimbos on the street, I want to find something creative to do with my time, something that I love but can still provide for me and my future family." He poured his heart out to Golden.

"You think people do what they love in this country?" Jonathan laughed loudly. "It's the '70s, Harry, wake the hell up! You're lucky to even have my help. You think that you'd get all this wealth from a creative job? You're deceiving yourself. It hurts me to see you this way, Harry, it really does; so delusional, you're so delusional." There was no hurt in his voice, but he seemed almost angered with Harry at this point.

"I don't give a shit about what other people do, I want to do what I want to do. Is that too hard to understand?" I almost cried for Harry at this point, I never would have believed that he felt this way.

"I don't understand you, Harry. The only two options you have at this point are: work for me like you always have, or I will get people to come around to the little apartment you have here and make you work for me. Is that what you want? It would hurt to have you beat up for this, Harry, but I'm afraid you'd leave me no other choice. Do I make myself clear to you, Harry? My cards are on the table." He raised his voice, "Do I make myself clear to you?"

"When's the next job?" Harry's voice was as quiet as a mouse's against Jonathan's.

"That's my boy, I'll let you know as soon as I do." I hear footsteps, "See you later, Harry." Then a slam at the door sounds, before I hear Harry's foot kick out at it in anger. His footsteps then come from near the bedroom, I quickly return the cup to the bedside table and perch obliviously onto the bed.

The door opens and Harry moves inside with a small smile. No light was now coming from the windows and a smooth breeze was travelling inside from the opening of it. He moves to sit beside me, his head immediately falling to my shoulder and my hand reaches up to hold his hair, slowly combing through his locks with my fingers.

"Are you all right?" I whisper into his ear.

"I've missed you." He moves slightly to gain eye contact with me.

"I've missed you too."

"That reminds me, I got you something. It's nothing extravagant." He stands from the bed and steps to his dresser, reaching for an object on top of it. As soon as he returns to his spot beside me, he shows me the flower resting on his palm.

"A rose?"

"Not just any rose." His hand reaches to position the rose in my hair behind my ear, "You will never guess where I found this rose. A side walk, right in the middle of two paving slabs near the main road. It was just growing there, doing its own thing and it reminded me of you."

I couldn't stop the smile on my face from spreading until it was ear to ear.

"It suits you."

"This is so cute, Harry. Thank you." I say, glancing at my hand before peering up to him again to find him leaning in. Soon enough, we were kissing and it was almost as though butterflies were building a home in the pit of my stomach, if they were, they were throwing firework displays every night. The sparks that appeared whenever Harry would kiss me were pleasurable to the point of being unexplainable, but I couldn't stop the guilt from washing over me as I thought about ever leaving this place. Maybe New York was to be my permanent home; the thought didn't scare me like I initially thought it would.