the writer // harry styles au

chapter 31

Alexis

Will was the right choice. I won't go running after Harry. I won't I won't I won't.

My Mum had a habit of repeating things to herself when she walked around the house, always checking of her mental to-do list out loud. I would just laugh and snicker as she scurried around like a crazy woman. She was constantly reading manuscripts, more than one at a time, so she'd run around trying to find one, reciting the plot line just so she'd remember. If she didn't remember the plot, it wasn't worth reading, and sure as hell wouldn't capture anyone else's attention.

Every time I'm with Will I can't help but think about Harry, constantly thinking of his smile, taught body, the way his hair fell. He was always on my mind. Whenever I was with Harry, though, Will never came to mind unless I realised the bad I was doing. Will wasn't worth remembering when I was with Harry because Harry was the one I wanted to remember, to always be on my mind, close to my body and in my heart. Will was a bad manuscript and Harry was a best seller.

Today Will wanted to go over to my parents house. He was giddy and running around his flat getting ready. He hadn't ever been excited to be meet my parents, usually just panicky and worried they'd hate him. Today was different. His demeanour had completely changed. He'd woken me up by kissing me full on the lips, then dragged his lips down and over my collarbones and chest. I won't say I hated it, because I certainly didn't, but the thought of Harry now never doing that to me pulled at my gut.

The house was right in front of us, covered in vines and these little purple flowers that bloomed. The white paint that the house was originally covered in peeked through certain breaks in the vines. The black door stood out against the soft colours, gold door knob twisting slightly as Mum appeared on the other side in her pencil skirt and 'publisher's blouse', as she called it. She opened her arms up wide to Will and I, gesturing for us to come in and give her a hug. I'd missed her. My busy, loving mum. The one person I'd always love.

"I'm blind," she said, dramatically placing her hand to her eyes. She was referring to the gorgeous white gold ring on my finger.

It did stand out, and it was beautiful, but I knew that out of all people, my Mum never focused on materials and possessions. I mean, this little house that her and dad had always lived in was tiny, way under what they could pay for a house. Mum and Dad could live right in the centre of London in a two story house and still have money to spend at their leisure. But mum wasn't like that. She liked her tiny house, small rooms and cream carpet that ran from the bottom to the top of the house. She liked the tiny study she had, full of novels, most now spilling onto the floors as none fit in the bookcase anymore.

Will and my Mum had walked off further into the house and down into the sitting room. Will's suit button up was tight on his skin yet still gave me something to ponder on. I knew what was under there, a pristine, toned body. Nothing like Harry's, tattooed and like a painting. He followed my Mum until they were seated in the old, brown suede chaise that was so weathered and over sat in there were placed where the material had worn away into a lighter shade of brown.

My brother, Jack, lay back in a tired position on the couch opposite mum and Will. His daughter Mona lay down on top of him, sprawled out just as tired. He lifted his head slightly and looked at me, giving me a half-assed smile and wave. He then placed his hands down on Mona's back and closed his eyes, obviously ready to sleep.

Mona was three and Jack's only kid. He was a single dad, lawyer and totally over thrown with work and fatherhood. I don't think I've seen him fully rested unless at Christmas, which is when he can take time off work, come down to mum and dad'- as do I - give the responsibility of Mona to Mum or I and then go sleep for a few days. Neither Mum or I liked seeing Jack all worn out. All he tried to do was be there for Mona while also trying to get ahead and successfully in his work. So we take Mona of his hands and let him be alone for while.