Brutality | Harry Styles

Chapter 7

Melody had to endure the next three uncomfortable days of her art class before the students finally stopped staring at her. Even the professor was prone to looking at Melody for longer than appropriate. Fortunately, though, no one asked her about the exhibit or the man that she was with. They seemed to let it go just like she had hoped.

Melody, however, wasn't letting it go. No matter what she had promised Harry or how final his farewell seemed, she couldn't bring herself to rid him from her thoughts. She felt like she had gotten to know him a bit at the art exhibit. He had been kind to her, complimented her painting. She found the little quirks about him endearing, how he seemed to stand out no matter what crowd he was in.

When she was out of classes and home for the rest of her Wednesday, Melody found herself itching to travel to the north side. She wanted to see Harry, to explore his mind and figure out why he refused to let her in, why he didn't do much more than stare at her with a crease between his brows when she spoke.

The reasonable side of her brain told Melody that it was five o'clock in the evening and that it was not, in fact, Friday. She had no clue where Harry would be. He wouldn't be at the warehouse and he probably wouldn't be at Brute's. While he had the convenient napkin that she had given him, Melody did not have Harry's phone number or address. She had absolutely no way of knowing where he was.

So, in a desperate attempt to distract herself, Melody had decided to make a trip to the secondhand bookstore. She had picked her way through almost the entire classics section before choosing a couple of books. She had to pay with a card at the register because she had spent all of her cash on alcohol and illegal entrance fees.

Melody left the shop feeling rather satisfied. As she stepped out onto the sidewalk, she paused to page through the beginnings of an Oscar Wilde novel. The pages felt worn and smelled old, and Melody took a deep breath as she closed the book and lifted her head.

She had successfully stopped thinking about Harry for the entire time that she was in the book shop, but it seemed as though she wasn't meant to stop thinking about him. Just as she looked up, she happened to see a man jogging along the sidewalk across the street. Melody didn't get a look at his face, but she did recognize his stride and the square of his shoulders, and she nearly dropped her books. She was also nearly hit by a car when she began to cross the street.

The cab driver laid on the horn as he slammed on his breaks. Melody gasped and jumped forward a few feet. She waved apologetically and hurried to the opposite sidewalk, following the direction that Harry had gone. She watched him jog around the corner and felt her pace quicken.

Melody only had to follow Harry for another minute before he slowed to a walk and turned down a side street. They were on the north side, she noticed. She had never before realized how close the bookstore was to the center of the city. As she glanced to her right, she noticed a run-down corner store that struck a familiar chord. She recalled a few nights of drunken fun, when she and Bea stopped at that very shop to purchase their share of junk food in hopes of preventing morning hangovers.

Melody turned the corner, calling to Harry, but he didn't seem to hear her. He lifted the front of his shirt to wipe at the sweat on his face and then continued on. He finally stopped at a door off of the sidewalk and reached in his pocket, pulling out a single key. Harry unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it behind himself and leaving Melody on the sidewalk.

Melody took tentative steps forward until she stood in front of the door. There was a set of peeling numbers stuck to its surface. Was this where Harry lived? She glanced around. The street was empty and quiet, but it didn't seem the type of place she'd want to be when it drew dark out.