the writer // harry styles au

chapter 28

Harry

Heartache again; drunk again. I'm going to get tired of being constantly torn apart by her. The last time she left me I was sure she wouldn't come back to me, yet deep down I had this little thing inside of me, so lost between thoughts and wonderings, saying that she might come back to me. This time feels different. I don't feel anything deep down that's telling me that she might come back. All I feel deep down is the warmth of the alcohol that fills my stomach and slowly seeps into my blood stream, numbing my mind from any possible reappearing thoughts of ever so perfect her.

Zayn, as always, was down for a drink. He'd lifted the flask from his back pocket when I'd told him outside the church - in front of a priest, may I add - and said, "One for the road? Or not for the road. Drinking and driving is utterly unsafe and trés difficile, non?"

I'd nodded, going along with his incorporation of something French in his English sentence. He'd taken me to his old mustang that we'd driven here with and headed off to the bar closest to my house. The bar was muggy, full of lifeless men, and just right for me. The automatic musk that hits you is just refreshingly depressing. Perfect for a post-break up drink.

Zayn'd decided on buying a pint of Guinness for both of us, saying I'd be the best thing to start us off. I only drank about half of it; it was enough to get me tipsy, but not enough to forget. Because I didn't really want to forget. Her presence in the past week-or-so has made me so much happier than I'd been at any point in my life. Happier than the day my book went #1; happier than the day I graduated university; happier than any other significant day, week, month in my whole life. And that comfort of being happy with her made me think about be happy with her for the rest of my life, like Will would be.

"She's starting to sound a bit conceited, Harry," Zayn said.

"No, no. If anything she's selfless. I understand why she doesn't want to be with me anymore. She's promised herself to Will, and like in any proposal situation, the couple actually get married to each other," I defended.

Zayn looked up at me from his lying down position in the booth.

"You've worked it out, my friend. Harry Styles: Author, Best Seller and Self-Acclaimed problem solver. Congratulations, Styles. I'm impressed." Zayn laughed this chuckle, basically just the sound of air escaping his lungs laugh. "Now I don't get to impart my wisdom on you like the great friend I am."

This bar was starting to get too depressing. I was now too accustomed to the smoke surrounding me, which couldn't be a good thing. So, I slid out from the booth and waved to Zayn briefly before walking out of the bar.

I didn't need to be sad and mopey of Alexis. My new book was doing brilliantly on the charts, my.. Well, that's it, really. I would say things like the fact that I have a nice home to live in, a steady income, but those things have been good for a while. Recently, the only thing that seems to be good in my life is my book, which is slightly depressing.

I walked through the cool night to my house. The autumn trees around me were all starting to wilt and let the leaves drift to the ground. This season still had the summer warmth and brightness, but with a hint of dull, dark days and the brisk feeling of wind against any exposed skin. I was a winter lover myself, but there was something about autumn that was almost as appealing to me. The colours of the leaves were always the bright yet subtle reds, oranges and yellows; the grounds weren't wet or over crowded; the autumn season was like an intro into winter and an outro summer. Although, after thinking all of this, autumn was also the season in which I met Alexis. Even if it was the last day of the season. The trees that were visible behind her in the library when I first met her are now all surrounding me; the brisk wind that hit my skin as I'd opened the door to leave after meeting her; it was all here, surrounding me.

Embarrassingly so, now everything reminded me of my Alexis - or 'Will's' Alexis.

As I approached my front gate, a tall figure stood in front of it, hands in his coat, moving around in a small spot. His movements and body language came of as an anxious action.

I got about three feet behind him before I said anything.

"Hey, man. Could I get to my gate? Got to get in on this brisk night, hey?"

The man turned around and looked my dead in the eyes, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yeah. It's really you."

I was confused by his statement. Maybe he was just a narcotic fan.

"What was your name? If you don't mind me asking," I said. I hoped deep down he was just a fan and not a psychotic killer planning on taking me as a victim.

"Will," he said. "I'm Will Senate."

(A/N: Hi guys! Again, sorry for the slow update! It's hard to find time to write while school's on! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to vote and comment! xxxx)