TW- There is reference to drug usage and abuse, if this is a triggering topic for you, please pop me a message and I will summarise the chapter for you :)
Love you all <3
Harry's P.O.V.
I'm worried about her. That same face that I saw when she first had a panic attack in front of me, has been etched into her expression since we found that body a few days ago, and I've ignored it since then, thinking she just needed to process, but it's been a few more days now and I still see it in her every expression, even if it's only slight.
I see her flinch every time someone walks into the room, or every time a door slams too loud, and that's exactly the reason I'm not going to ignore it anymore.
I was never going to ignore it in the first place, but seeing how much it's affected her, gives me more motivation to find out exactly what the fuck is going on, quicker than I anticipated.
I've always known there was some weird shit going on, but I never knew it would be this bad, and it's affecting her, which I don't want for her.
I like seeing her carefree, so calm, just watching her take in her surroundings, it's the time where I know she's truly relaxed, and I can tell by the smile on her face that it's easy for her to feel that way, how it should be. Like when I was teasing her for ordering olives on her pizza, or how much she was listening to me when I was talking about the flowers.
Stuff like that is so easy for her, for us, and I hate seeing her so far from that place.
And although Zayn arriving had definitely distracted her from that, I can tell it's still all she's thinking about. I see her stood in the events room waiting to be called on stage and I see her scratching at her fingers, around the skin of her short acrylic nails, and I know she's scared, she's uncomfortable, but most of all, she's uneasy. She doesn't know who to trust and she doesn't know as much as she wishes she did.
She tells me she never wanted to know if her Dad was involved, but we both know that's a lie. Flower likes to know what's going on around her, not so she can rub it in people's faces that she has a certain amount of knowledge of something, just so she can put herself at ease knowing she has some form of control. It's for herself, and that's something I can very much understand. Flower likes to have control, just like me.
She's warming to me, I can tell, and things are slightly different, I catch her glancing at me, asking questions to herself about me in her head, but not wanting to ask as she doesn't want to intrude my thoughts. She knows I'm a private person, and she understands that. It's why she only knows things about me that I've told her.
I don't know if she'll ever know anything more about me, I've never told anyone much about myself in great detail, never opened up about my past. I've never let myself get close enough to anyone to do so.
It's also why I've never pushed her to tell me anything that would make her uncomfortable, I've only listened when she needed to talk.
I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to talk to her like that, the way she so openly discusses things that she struggles with, her anxiety, her father, the loss of her mother, and I admire her so much for showing me that.
That's why when I realised I would have to lie to the police, I did it without a second thought, because she needed me to. She isn't ready to find out what is really going on, even though it's exactly what I want to know. There will be more for me to find, I'm sure.
The police didn't really want to know anything that had me worried they might know what is going on. They just wanted to know Jack's general personality, or any behaviour that might've seemed out of the ordinary from the tour so far. My interview was slightly longer than anyone else's because I had more of a personal relationship with Jack, and they just wanted to see if he was acting suspicious at any point, checking his phone suspiciously, or any signs of worry or threat. Which I didn't see any of, but then again I never really gave him much of my attention, when I wasn't cueing lights and sound, I was staring at Bry.
And then it was the show the next day. I didn't see her when I came out of my interview, and I couldn't find her when we went back to the hotel either. I didn't specifically knock on her door looking for her, but I wandered around the lobby for a while, went to the bar and had more cigarettes than I probably should have, waiting to see her, but she didn't. I didn't know where she was.
She was probably with Zayn to be honest.
I don't know why it made me so mad at the thought of it, or jealous, or whatever that feeling is when your body fuels itself with envy, and it starts to travel throughout your entire body just at the thought of the together, in her room, watching a film. Maybe they even went out for food together.
I have no right to claim her, she isn't mine, but at the same time, the idea of them together, like that, I just hate it.
It doesn't help that Zayn is so clearly in love with Bry, and if he's not, there's definitely some unresolved feelings there or something. The way his eyes completely lit up when he first saw her running towards him, and when we were working the lights together, both stood watching the show from behind the board, he didn't take his eyes off of her for a second, and I hated it. I should be the only one who gets to look at her like that, but I can't even say anything. He literally knows her better than me, so my argument is completely ridiculous and uncalled for.
But I do want her, and I don't know the extent of that, but I do.
I keep saying shit like this and it doesn't get me anywhere, because I let her touch me again and I panic, because although it feels like the most natural thing I've ever experienced, like her hands were made to perfectly hold my face, the small of her back moulded for my hands, but I get so fucking scared. Scared of all the ways I'm going to ruin it, scared of all the ways she's going to eventually hate me, scared of how I'm just not good enough for her, not what she deserves, not what she needs.
She looked so good in my new designs for this show, and my favourite on her was a piece I'd obviously designed uniquely for her, and nowadays there was rarely a piece I didn't design without the mental image of her wearing it. She's my muse.
It was a completely mesh, body-tight jumpsuit, but she was wearing a small plain black underwear set underneath it just for the modesty of the show. If it was a shoot I'd just have her nude underneath, but 'no nudity' is part of the contract. But that wasn't what I was staring at, I'd paired it with a feather boa, one of my favourite accessories to dress up with as a child, and it was the same dark green of her lingerie bodysuit, and of the other jumpsuit I designed for her.
She's decided to wear a dark red lip too, and next to the luscious curls of her red hair, and the freckles on the beautiful pale shine to her skin, it made my mouth water.
The feather boa was something I wasn't sure if I should add in, but fashion has always been a safe space for me, something fun and carefree, and I used to have a feather boa to match every single colour of the rainbow as a kid, all seven of them, and while on this trip, it made me think of how easy things were as a child, and how fashion should still be fun, regardless of how 'mature' it's expected to be by society.
So, I gave it to Bry, knowing she would wear it with pride, because she's never scared to experiment with fashion, and that's always been my personal aim, to break social constructs, not go along with how the beauty standard expects us to dress. It's something I know I've always wanted to do, but I was unsure whether I would ever get there. I'm quite a shy person, but watching Bry do that, it gives me hope that one day I will be like that too. I want to be like that.
Maybe I'll even walk in my own show, push the boundaries challenge myself, and maybe my future self will even have the confidence to wear a dress. Because despite the fact I'm a swinging brick when it comes to my emotions, I do want to be able to look back on my life when I'm older and have no regrets in anything, nothing that I wished I did but didn't have the guts, and slowly I'm starting to learn that it's okay to be that person, and to stop fitting in just for the sake of it.
Be authentically myself, like my Flower.
And as I'm sat here, in the taxi with her that's driving us to the club for the after party, I can't help but smile.
Zayn and Niall took a car, immediately hitting it off as soon as they met, which pissed me off again. Who does Zayn even think he is, taking my only two friends?
Is Bry my friend? I mean I think she is, and I kind of hope she thinks of me as a friend now too.
Our thighs are close, and Bry is wearing a tight black vinyl mini skirt and a long sleeved high-necked white cropped top. She's just got some basic white trainers on with it, as I can tell she isn't one of those girls who goes clubbing in heels, because she just wants to be comfy instead, and there's something about that that makes me laugh, it's so, Bry.
But that isn't what I'm staring at, she's still wearing the dark green feather boa I paired with the new outfit from today's show, something I was fairly nervous to add into the line, but a piece she gladly wore, and has clearly taken a liking too.
I wanted to make a joke about it, or tease her, or tell her how good she makes it look, softly resting around her neck, but I notice something else instead.
Her leg is bobbing up and down, something that shows me she's anxious and I feel my brows furrow before I can stop them, my brain etched with curiosity at what could be bothering her. But I think I already know.
I reach over and place my hand on her knee, and unlike the last time I did this in a taxi, she didn't flinch, instead her head just turned to look at me, and I can see it in her eyes. She's worried.
And then it hits me, the last time we came to a club, we found that man.
It doesn't matter that Martin hasn't sent her here this time, she still doesn't trust that, she overthinks everything to the exact science, and she's afraid that something will throw her off again, fuel her anxiety even more.
But I don't want that for her.
I keep my hand pressed on her leg but start to trace small circles with my thumb, hopefully comforting her the way I know she needs right now.
I lean into her, my nose nudging on her curls, her scent instantly enrapturing my senses, the lavender smell that follows her everywhere.
"You'll be fine, I promise,"
I hear her sigh as she listens to my words, and I can feel the goosebumps forming on her thigh where my hand is still resting, caressing her.
"Nothing will happen Flower, not while I'm here." I whisper, so the taxi driver doesn't hear me.
I know I'm not saying anything bad, or that I'm scared for him to hear, it's just this seems like a personal moment between the two of us, and it should be something that only we share, just the two of us listening to each other, both verbally and physically.
Suddenly my breath picks up, and her hand reaches down to where mine is on her leg, and she hold it in her hands, her fingers tangling with mine on both sides of my hand, tapping mine in her grasp.
Her head then dips, and she rests it against my shoulder, fitting perfectly into the crook of my neck, like it was a space designed just for her.
Normally I would panic at this intimate touch between us, something I try to stay far away from, but other than my heart pounding in my chest, so much so that she can probably hear it, I don't feel that surge of dread travelling through my body. I just feel a tingle of warmth, and a gleam of positivity that feels so innocent, yet so powerful.
I can't run from this anymore, I can't run from her.
We stay like this until we feel the car come to a stop, and before I can pull my hand away, she feels my movement and stops me from doing so.
Her eyes look directly into my own, and she shakes her head.
"Flower," I sigh, "they will take pictures, Martin will be pissed."
"I don't care," she says adamantly, "I don't want to let go yet."
So, I relax into her grip once more.
We were on one of the man-made islands off the coast, for the club Niall had rented out for the night, obviously not closing it off to the public as he loves buying girls drinks and fucking them in the bathroom. He's insatiable in a nightclub, I prefer to be his wingman.
As the island was specifically for tourists, we had been told that we could act the same as we normally would out in London, but Bry had a long-sleeved top on because she still wanted to be respectful to the culture, something I've noticed she's made such an effort to do in each country we've been to so far. I find it admirable; I don't know who taught her to do that, but they seem pretty great. Maybe it was her mum?
The door is opened for us and Bry pulls me out of the car behind her, gripping my hand and leading us together. There are very minimal people taking pictures as we get out, at least not as many as we'd previously seen, and I'm guessing that's because Martin didn't tip anyone off like he usually does.
We both look to the floor as we make our way into the club, the bouncer nodding as we make our way through the doors.
When we enter I'm met with a mist of green lighting encasing the entire room. It's a very industrial and mechanical looking room, with metal balconies surrounding the high walls. There are smoke machines coming from the ceiling, making it very cloudy and dark in here. The green LED lights are pulsing and strobing, creating a weird vibe for the whole club.
The music is thumping through the floor, making you able to hear the bass line in your entire body, it feels like you're throbbing. Fuck, I want to get high.
I knew I shouldn't have taken those lines for Bry, but I would still do it again if she needed me to. She was clearly scared to take it too far, but so was I, and now I've found myself craving it again on multiple occasions, which is never a good sign.
The feeling of being high, especially on some hard shit, is a feeling that's unmatchable, and if you take shit when you aren't in a good state of mind, you can end up needing to chase a high that could be detrimental, a high that it isn't guaranteed you will ever come back from.
I never had a very good relationship with drugs, being exposed to them from a young age, and never knowing who I was, or who I wanted to be, it was easy for me to lose control of things pretty quickly. I've been lucky that I've managed to pull myself back from it, and it was dangerous of me to do what I did, but she needed me to, so I did. I should be okay, but if I have to do it again then that's when it might get worse, and I can't do that to myself right now, my Mum needs me to come home from this tour in one piece, more than ever right now. She can't lose me.
Bry still hasn't let go of my hand as she leads me through the lucid green room, shadows and fog still clouding the atmosphere of the club. She's confidently striding in front of me, walking past crowded groups of people, knowing exactly where she's taking us.
After she finds the back section of the club, there is guarded booths which clearly have to be rented, and we find Niall with some girls, maybe one's who I recognise to be Victoria? Maybe Amy? And then Zayn is sat smoking, chatting to Lara with his arm resting on the neck of the chair behind her. Fuck, is her name Lara? Or is it Lucie? I can't fucking remember anymore, and I don't fucking care.
Bry slides into the booth next to Zayn, letting go of my hand, to which he acknowledges her presence pretty quickly and places his hand around her shoulders, pulling her in and placing a kiss on her temple.
My jaw clenches before I'm even thinking about it.
I can barely think straight so I quickly slide in next to Bry, pushing my leg up against hers and locking my eyes onto her, not bothered about how fucking obvious I'm being.
"You both get here okay?" Zayn says, smirking at me and how must I'm clearly thirsting over her.
"Yeah, all good." She smiles, not revealing to him any of the anxiety she has just shown me, something which confuses me. As Zayn is one of her closest friends he will definitely know about her anxiety, but the way she is hiding it so well from him tells me one thing. She doesn't want to worry him, or 'burden' him, she doesn't want to affect his time here, to ruin anything.
I turn to angle my body to face her more, and discreetly sneak my left hand and place it on the small of her back, hiding it from everyone else. It's dark in here anyway, so even if I wasn't hiding the contact with my legs and the table being at the perfect height so no one can see, the dark green lighting makes it pretty impossible.
My hand delicately rests on the small of her back and I let it caress where her crop top doesn't quite cover her skin to comfort her, knowing she needs it right now, despite not wanting everyone else to know just how anxious she is.
"You guys want a drink, bartender's here!" Niall calls from the other side of the booth, having to shout over the loud music. He looks particularly smart, with a tight fitted black turtleneck with a black blazer over the top. The two girls are fussing around him, just how he likes, and he is grinning at all the attention he's getting from them, no doubt charming them into going back to his hotel room with him, the both of them I'm sure.
Niall is a rich businessman, who gives zero fucks, and when you counter horny into that equation, you can pretty much guess the rest.
"Cosmo please." Bry grins at the bartender, chuckling at Niall's insatiable grin as he is clearly looking at Victoria's ass in her tight leather pants as she leans down to get something out of her handbag.
"I'll have the same." I say after Bry, still staring at her, ignoring everyone else's curious looks, I'm looking for any kind of anxiety on her face, the tiny creases on her brow line when she feels tense, or the way she bites at the inside of her mouth, or picks at her fingers, anything that will show me she needs a time out.
But I don't see it. I see her smile, genuine and positive. She's extremely good at hiding this.
I keep my hand on her back, and I admire the green boa still sat around her neck, which she still wears with pride. She is holding a conversation with Zayn and some of the other models who have now joined us, but I don't take note of even their hair colour.
I watch her pink lips pucker as they sip the Cosmo from the sharp martini glass and her the corners of her eyes crease as she laughs in response to something Zayn says. I chip in a grin or a chuckle now and then to act like I'm listening in to the conversation, but I'm really not.
When I notice her drink is empty, I gesture for the bartender to bring another round, but make sure my hand doesn't move from her back, and to be honest, I don't know if the main reason I'm keeping it there is to comfort her, or to comfort myself.
I've never been one for public displays of affection, and although this is only lowkey, I don't mind it.
I'm snapped out of my daydream when I feel her hand come into contact with my thigh, placing it softly down after placing her fresh cocktail on the table.
Although the initial contact was gentle, what comes after is not. She is teasing me, squeezing my thigh, kneading it in her delicate palm.
Even though I'm wearing tight jeans, I can still feel the tension behind her movements, and how hungry she is, how much she wants this. Well lucky for her I always want her.
Luckily, my leg is hidden under the table, so no one can see what she's doing, but as her hand slowly starts to creep up my leg, getting closer and closer to my groin, it becomes a risk. Still, I don't dare stop her.
In response to her teasing, my hand trails down, stretching as I dive below the waistband of her skirt.
Zayn is now in a conversation with Lucie, his body mostly turned the opposite way, and Bry is looking straight ahead, trying not to distract myself.
As my hand gets further beneath her skirt, stretching the tight material as I go, I realise something that happens way to often between the two of us.
"Do you ever fucking wear underwear?" I spit as I lean in slightly, trying not to let my face show how much she is frustrating me right now, but I know I'm massively failing.
She doesn't look at me, she only lets a big smirk break out on her face, shaking her head slowly, her hand down massaging my growing bulge, which is starting to become painful in the confinements of my skinny jeans.
"Such...a filthy fucking slut." I mutter, mainly to myself, but knowing because of how close I am to her that she has definitely heard what I said.
She shifts in her seat at my words, moving my hand even further down, now cupping her ass cheeks.
It takes everything inside of me not to take my other hand up the front of her skirt and glide it through her wet folds, as I can tell by the dilation of her pupils how turned on she is right now.
A grunt escapes my throat as her needy hand is massaging forceful yet pleasurable patterns around my crotch.
"Bathroom. Now." I spit into her ear.
She smiles as she removes her hand from my bulge, standing up and pushing her ass against me as she squeezes out the booth.
I wait a second before getting up and following her.
I like where this is going.
~~~~~
Don't hate me for the cliffhanger!!
I love you <3