What Goes Around... || H.S. Harry Styles

1.

Harry swipes change out of the till and casually winks at the girl who holds her manicured hand out to take it.  The bar is buzzing tonight, far busier than it usually is for a Thursday night and he is feeling the pinch of being severely understaffed.

He takes the pen that is wedged behind his ear, his long curls snaking around the edges of the navy beanie that is keeping them from falling into his eyes.  Harry scribbles quickly onto a docket and hands it to the blonde he just served, her eyes never having left his as she suggestively bites down on the straw sticking out of her glass. It's a routine he has mastered, almost always succeeding in his pursuit.  She's responding before he gets the chance to attend to the next waiting patron, passing back the piece of paper with a false sense of calm as Harry sends her an effortless smile and shoves her phone number in his pocket for later.

He never finds it difficult to pick up women, working in a bar surely helps, he has the advantage of every woman in the room coming up to him and having to look him in the eye.  He can tell right away which ones are looking for a bit of fun and which ones want more, he never goes for the latter.

They are always the same, blonde, tall, a little ditsy, not strong conversationalists and more interested in the personal satisfaction of him wanting them then they are with building any form of relationship.  It's his 'type,' he tries to convince himself, believing anything other than the truth, which is that they are the complete opposite of... her.

It's been seven years since Harry graduated high school, seven years since the night he made the worst mistake of his life, the one he can't seem to shake from his conscience. 

"You need to forgive yourself, mate," his best friend Jamie told him a couple of years after meeting him, where they both worked in a seedy bar in the dodgy part of the city. "You need to let yourself move on."  And so he did, in part, by sleeping with every woman that looked nothing like her, contributing nothing to reminding him of what he lost.  He stopped trying to contact her, stopped thinking about all the things he should have done differently, stopped looking at the photo he had of them in his wallet.

He'll probably call this girl, whose number he obtained so easily, once he has finished wiping down the countertops and locks the doors, he'll probably go to her house and fuck her quickly, her hands unfamiliar, her voice unsettling and then he'll sneak out or make an excuse to leave.

He always left.

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER

"C'mon babe! Just for a few hours!" Harry begs, his hands are on her hips as her arms grip a stack of books that are feeling heavier by the second.

"Harry, I can't! I'm freaking out about finals enough already without going and fucking myself up on beer." Nat tells him, having firmly made up her mind, her boyfriend's adorable pouty lips not making it easy on her. 

She was determined and smart, never one to be bullied or pushed into doing anything she didn't want to do but also never forcing her opinions on anyone else.  It's what he loved most about her.  If she decided something was right for her then she did it, but she knew it didn't mean it was the right decision for anyone else.

Final exams started in three days but Harry didn't really give a shit, he wasn't going to go to university anyway and although she always tried to motivate him, she was endlessly supportive of his own decisions.

"You don't have to get drunk, just come and watch way less dedicated people get fucked up and laugh at their expense," he jokes taking the books from her and putting them down on the table she had just picked them up from.

Harry and Nat had been together for a couple of years, their friendship had always been flirtatious but innocence and inexperience had kept it at bay until one night they were walking to a friends house when Harry's hand brushed against hers.  They had both held their breaths as he intertwined their fingers together, his hand was clammy and hers was shaking, they didn't look at each other for fear of embarrassment taking over but both of them felt their stomachs flip at the contact.  They kissed that night for the first time, their tongues touching quickly and nervously, both not really sure what to do but pretending they had done it a hundred times.

"Harry, honey, I love you but I'm staying in and studying, go on call me a loser, I don't care," she proclaimed, secretly wishing he would stay with her instead of going to the party of a guy who graduated from their high school last year and was back from university to presumably get wasted and show everyone else how 'cool' he had become, but she would never be the type of girl to ask him to do that.  They were trusting of one another, wholeheartedly, their relationship built on years of loyalty and friendship, while jealousy seemed like an enigmatic feeling they would only joke about.

"Urgh, you're a loser!" He groaned, not meaning a word and softening the blow with a quick kiss to her lips. She giggled into his kiss and flicked under the brim of his hat with her finger.

They both grinned as he licked off the strawberry chapstick he had just inherited onto his lips and begged her one more time to come with him before she basically pushed him out the door, playfully swatting his butt on the way out.

-

His mind was foggy and his judgment clouded as he stood in the kitchen of a house he had never been to and sent another text message to Nat to reconsider taking a break and joining him.  The music was blearing through the speakers of the surround sound system, the party's host clearly taking advantage of his parents being out of town.

It was early in the morning, he knew that much, and he had drunk a dangerous amount of alcohol. Smiles and pats on the back were shifting through his gaze in drowsy slow motion and he was being swept up in the camaraderie of his mates, almost all of whom were about to leave this town and try and make it in the big, bad world, hopefully getting into a good university or landing a decent job and never looking back.

Maybe it was the booze but at that moment, in the haze of the smoke around him, laughter  ringing in his ears and the taste of cheap beer on his tongue, Harry felt nothing but fear.  He was always acting like he didn't care, like he was blasé about school or jobs or whatever the fuck he was going to do with his life but the reality was, he had no idea. Nat was always so dedicated, so together, she knew what she wanted and he had no doubt that she would achieve it.  Was he going to spend his whole life being the thorn in her side, dragging her down?  What if he never got out of this town?  Was this as good as it was going to get, with his childhood friends surrounding him and his high school girlfriend at home?

As if the devil himself appeared at that moment, his mate Chris leaned into his shoulder to speak in a low voice. "That chick with the great tits has been making eyes at you all night, mate."  Harry didn't know what the fuck he was talking about, he hadn't noticed anyone else to be honest, he never did.  The girl who had wavy blonde hair and far too much make up on took their staring as a cue to approach the boys and before he knew it this girl, who he found out was in college, was whispering all the right type of wrong things in his ear as her hand travelled dangerously close to his crotch.

"Live a little honey, if you don't start taking risks you will end up doing the same thing for the rest of your life," she coaxed.

His intoxicated friends were encouraging him, telling him he was a pussy and a loser and to fuck her already or one of them will.

Any sense had left his mind as he tore her skin tight dress off in the nearest unoccupied bedroom, the scent of her cheap perfume mixing with the smell of beer and making Harry's stomach churn.  She pushed him roughly onto the bed, saying things Harry could no longer hear, his head spinning and his vision blurry. 

He didn't know much of what happened next.  He has only flashes of photo-like stills in his mind, maybe his memory depleted from the alcohol or maybe it was purely out of self preservation, his mind repressing any sickening recollection of the moments that followed.

The clothes on the floor. The woman on top of him.  The moment his dick was hard inside of her. The bedroom door opening. The eyes of Nat meeting his. The sound of her heart shattering scream. The attempt to follow her as she ran. The slap across his face. The tears falling down her cheeks. The devastation in her eyes. The feeling that he was never going to see her again.

A/N:

Hey everyone! Welcome to my new story!

It's going to be a bit different to my last one but I hope you love it all the same!

Would love to hear what you think so make sure you comment and vote if you are liking it!

Love Ruby

xx