Golden [h.s.]

19. wrote a song

🎵Wildfire — Demi Lovato

Half an hour later, I turn the lights off and close up the bar, throwing the keys into my crossbody as I lock up. The night is still young; there's still nightowls out, but the bar cleared up earlier tonight. It's only 2:30 in the morning.

"Aurelia," I hear from behind me and I jump.

Fucking hell!

Startled, I quickly turn around to see none other than Harry himself, leaning against a lightpost. My heart is still racing in panic as I try to catch my breath. His curls are a mess atop his head, the buttons on his shirt even further undone so that the beautiful butterfly tattoo that I love is visible.

"Fuck, Harry," I breathe out. "You scared me. What are you doing here?" His eyes are soft, though glassy from the alcohol he's consumed. Did he drink more after he left? Where did he even go?

"S-Sorry for startling you," he says softly, gripping onto the post for balance. "You said to go 'for now' and I decided....that 'for now' is over." He says this last part matter-of-factly, and I fight the urge to smile. I'm still just as angry as I was from the stunt he pulled earlier at the bar. Instead, I sigh.

"Harry, you can't be here," I say. "You're so drunk you can barely stand straight, I can call you an Uber." The handsome man in front of me shakes his head quickly, walking towards me, but I back away. If he touches me, I know I won't be able to think straight.

"I want to be where you are," Harry replies to me, running his hands through his hair, and my heart races. His words awaken something in me, but he can't keep doing this.

I can't keep doing this.

"I'm headed to the subway," I say curtly, and walk slowly ahead, despite how badly I want to face him and run into his arms. I'm cautious of him following behind me. "Or I can call us an Uber and drop you home on the way." As I speak, Harry shakes his head again and walks briskly to catch up to me.

"Probably not a good idea for me," he mumbles, tripping over his feet in the process. "I c-can...call Tom."

Tom?

Harry must see the confused look on his face as he adds, "My driver." He reaches into his pocket, then grabs his phone, but he struggles as he puts in his password to unlock it. Giving up, he holds it out to me.

"C-Can you call him? The words are jumbled up," Harry pouts, in the cutest way, and I want to kick myself for thinking of how cute he's being. I nod, reaching for his phone, careful not to come in contact with his hand. I swipe through his contacts until I get to Tom's, then dial.

"Mr. Styles," the sweet man answers.

"Um, hi," I speak. "It's, Aurelia, the girl from—"

"Oh, Miss Ella! I know who you are," Tom laughs on the phone. "The woman who Mr. Styles is so smitten with." My cheeks flush, and I see Harry eyeing me.

I explain to Tom where we are and what's going on, and he assures me he'll arrive in about twenty minutes. I hand Harry back the phone and take a seat on the steps of the apartment in front of us.

"He'll be here in 20," I inform him, keeping it short. There's silence between us for a little while before Harry speaks.

"So, you and Brad then?" He asks, anger suddenly flashing in his eyes. I whip my head up to face him, the fury piling up inside of me.

What the fuck?

Here he goes again. What gives him the right to even ask me that?

"Excuse me?" I say, uncrossing my legs.