And To All A Good Night [h.s. one shots]

Nothing More, Nothing Less by findyourboatxx

Nothing More, Nothing Less

When I was younger, I loved Christmas.

Seeing the snow hit the ground in Millennium Park as I held onto my brother's hand, looking up at the sky as the sound of our ice skates gliding across the ground below us echoed through our ears. My nose would be red, causing the name Raupholf to leave his lips as he held back a chuckle watching me pout. But then the anger would leave my body instantly when he brought the hot chocolate, making sure that mine had a cinnamon straw that he knew was my favorite part of the day.

We would ride the train back to our home, he would sit beside me with one headphone in his ear with the other in mine. Sometimes it would be Christmas music, other times it would be some band he had been obsessed with at the time. But nevertheless, we were happy. He would grab my small hand in his much larger one, leading me through the train station as we watched families hug their loved ones hello, while others kissed them goodbye. He would set me on top of his shoulders, giving me a whole new view of the world that usually consisted of seeing others' stomachs.

It was the same every year. I would run into his room, throwing my body onto the bed telling him that Santa had come the night before. He would complain, groaning about how the presents would still be there in three hours from now. But I was so little, that my twelve year older brother would do whatever I wanted.

Because after all, I was his little princess. At least that was what all of his friends called me when they would come over. Patrick simply couldn't say no to me... not that he wanted to. He used to always tell me that it broke his heart to see me sad, so he would do everything in his power to make sure that I was happy.

But then things change... people die.

Everything changed when Patrick died, it was as if the whole world had died with him. The house that we had grown up in wasn't the same anymore. The train rides through downtown didn't make me happy, they made me wish with everything inside of me that he was still here. That stupid fucking bean scuptlre that Pat always made me look at when I was with him... made me angry. Millennium Park made me sick to my stomach, because every memory I had was with him. And going there makes it feel all the more that I will never get to see him again.

I hadn't even realized I had gone still until the stranger's lips were pulled away from my own. My legs were still wrapped tightly around his waist, my body sat on the counter top of the bathroom sink as he stopped his movements entirely.

"What's wrong," he mumbled, pulling his fingers from out of my hair and placing them on my sides. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," I said quickly, blinking slowly as I shook my head, placing my hands onto his face. "Don't stop, I'm almost there."

He smiled lightly, leaning back down to feverishly kiss my lips again. His hips jerked forward, a gasp leaving my lips as he slid his tongue forward and lapsed circles around my own. He moved his hand slowly from my hips, teasing me as he moved slowly, his long finger in contrast to the rapid motion of his hips.

"Fuck," I moaned, throwing my head back as his finger slowly circled around my throbbing clit.

He chuckled deeply as his lips attached to my neck, his movements becoming sloppy as he thrusted harder into me. My walls began clenching around him, causing him to twitch slightly as he moaned deeply. His rasp echoing through the small bathroom as he placed his hand on the mirror behind me.

"Feel so good, pretty girl," his deep voice husked out quietly, snapping his hips forward as I moaned loudly.

With one final trust my vision became blurry, my hand wrapped around his curls that were falling down his shoulders as I pulled his hair back, a deep groan making my whole body shake as I came down from my high. Our moans filled the small bathroom in the back of the plane as he collapsed his head into my shoulder, our heavy pants falling into sync as his pants fell around his shoes.

"Shit," he mumbled, his voice sending me out of my trance as he lifted his head off of my shoulder. "I've never done that before."

A breathy laugh left my lips as I nodded slightly, "Me either."

He pulled out of me slowly, a shiver sending down my spine as he placed his lips back onto mine. His hands wrapped back around my waist as he pulled me close, the scent of peppermint and his cologne making my head spin wild again as I kissed him back.

I was the first to pull away this time, his green eyes holding me captive as I whispered, "We should probably get back to our seats, we're landing soon."

"Yeah," he said, his breathing fanning across my face as he tucked a piece of hair out of my face.

He pecked my lips once more, bending down to pick up his briefs and trousers and pulling them over his body quickly. He stopped his movements for a moment as a small smirk appeared onto his face. He bent back down to the floor, hooking his fingers around my pair of lace black underwear and bringing them to my face. "Guessing these belong to you, love?"

I quickly reached up and grabbed them from his hand, shimming my body down slightly as I pulled the fabric between my legs. I could feel my cheeks heating up with each move I made, causing a dimpled smirk to appear onto his face once more.

"Stop looking at me like that," I laughed, rolling my eyes as I pulled my leggings up, watching as he moved closer to me.

"Like what?" He asked, his voice lower than before as he smirked at me.

I stared at him for a moment, about to open my mouth when suddenly the intercom from above turns on. The pilot's voice that we heard earlier that morning rings through the plane, signaling that we're leading as I cocked my head to the side.

"That's our cue," I joked, finally sliding down from the bathroom sink as he watched me with that same, seductive smirk that made me find myself in this situation in the first place.

"Are you finally going to tell me your name now," he asked, blocking me from the door as I tried to leave.

"If you tell me yours," I shot back.

He held his hand out for me to shake, watching me closely as he finally said, "Harry. Harry Styles."

I grabbed his hand in mine, shaking it slightly as I smiled, "Rowan. Rowan Kelly."

He pulled me forward by my hand, his mouth falling back onto mine as he kissed me deeply. I stood on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck before a knock on the bathroom door pulled us apart.

"You need to get back to your seats," the flight attendant called out, his voice sounding annoyed as he continued knocking on the door. "We're landing."

"We're coming mate," Harry called out, sending me a wink due to his choice of words as I rolled my eyes.

He opened the door as soon as he finished speaking, giving the man a hundred dollar bill as he clapped his back. "Thanks for blocking the door," he flashed a grin as the man sighed softly.

I walked behind him as he led us back to our row, allowing me to slide back down in the window seat with a blush creeping onto my cheeks. He chuckled deeply, sitting back down as we put on our seatbelts.

Merry fucking Christmas to me.

~

I spun the straw in my cocktail around, the ice cubes following in a circle as the black object led the way. My journal was opened in front of me, the pen in my hands rapidly tapping along the blank lined pages as I sighed deeply.

Maxwell had been given until the New Year for my outline, telling me that if I hadn't brought him a new idea for my next book he was going to drop me from the publishing company. I was shit out of luck, my last story only gaining success because it was real. It was raw. It was everything I wished I was in another life. I was officially a one hit wonder, one story that I worked on for years finally caught me my break and now I'm nothing. Nothing more than a washed up writer who used her brother's death as a selling point.

My confidence I once had now completely obliterated. Gone in a matter of seconds knowing that I will not be able to write another book, at least not one as good as the last.

So there I was, drinking my troubles away at the airport bar praying for time to stand still. My phone had been going off since the second I landed, three messages from Maxwell reminding me about my deadline, four from my sister-in-law making sure I was still coming to dinner tonight, and finally one from my mother.

"If you're not going to bother showing up, a phone call would be nice."

Another sigh left my body as I downed the rest of my drink, throwing my finger up in the air at the bartender who was watching me as I signaled for another. I looked at my phone, locking it before throwing it into my bag as I placed my leg on top of my luggage. I ran my fingers through my hair, about to throw my stupid fucking journal against the wall when a voice suddenly called out from beside me.

"This seat taken?"

His deep accent sounded familiar, the slight rasp in his voice pulling me out of my self pity party as I turned to look at him.

"Shouldn't you be on a flight to London," I questioned, watching as he sat down beside me.

"Shouldn't you be on a train to the city," a small chuckle left his lips as I rolled my eyes, waiting for him to continue as he nodded towards the window. "It's a bit hard to go anywhere with snow like that."

I furred my eyebrows in confusion, turning to see that it was in fact snowing outside. A small smile fell onto my lips, the part of me that had missed snow for the past four years lighting up as I turned to look back at him.

"Just killing time," I shrugged, referring to his question as he gave me a look of curiosity.

"Why?" He pushed, turning to the bartender to order himself a drink as he said. "It's Christmas, don't you want to be with family?"

"I would have rather the plane go down," I mused, taking another long sip of my drink that was just brought to me as he chuckled.

"That bad?"

"That fucking bad," I mumbled, shaking my head softly as I turned back to my journal. "My dad's alright, it's just my bitch of a mother."

"My father's a bit intense," he said, moving the glass slightly in his hand as he placed his bags down. "But my mum's great, she's like my best friend."

"It's not nice to brag," I joked lightly, turning to him.

I took in the way he looks so good from just getting off of a three hour flight. The way his hair looked perfectly styled as he runs his fingers through it, the way the curls fall almost perfectly to his shoulders as he smiles shyly.

"And it's not nice to stare," he mumbled, a blush falling onto his cheeks as he bit his bottom lip.

I decided to change the subject, bringing the straw up to my lips as I asked, "How long is your flight delayed for?"

"Till four in the morning," he said, copying my actions as he took a drink of his whiskey. "They said that I could stay in a room in the hotel next door, apparently the storm isn't going to stop until later tonight."

"You should consider yourself lucky," my childish self taking over, wishing I was in his place where I wouldn't have to see my family until as late as possible.

"And why's that," he mused, moving closer to me as the alcohol started to take a toll on me.

"Because family is overrated, almost never the way they're supposed to be," I tell him honestly.

"A bit cynical don't you think, pretty girl?"

He moved a bit closer to me, scooting his chair across the hardwood floor of the airport as he cocks his head to the side. If I hadn't been watching him so closely, I wouldn't even have noticed he moved at all.

"Not in the slightest," I said, turning back towards my journal as I sighed. "Maybe that's what my next book should be about."

"You're an author?" He asked, attentiveness in his voice as I sheepishly nodded my head.

"I've only ever published though," I shrugged. "So I don't really think that counts as me being an author."

"Is there a beginning, a middle, and an end to your story?" He asked as I nodded my head. "Could I buy a physical copy of your book?"

"I mean, yeah," I said slowly

"Then that's not true," he said quickly, shaking his head as he looked at me. "You shouldn't put yourself down like that, you should be proud of your achievements. You wrote a book, Rowan. That makes you an author."

I had never heard him say my name before. And I never wanted him to stop. There was something about the way his accent makes my name sound so sexy, so attractive that it makes me want to fuck him again right here in the damn airport.

Fuck, these drinks must be stronger than I thought.

"You sound like my dad," I smiled, watching as a genuine smile appeared on his face.

"You should listen to him," he hummed, taking a sip of the drink in his hands.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I explained, "Well when everyone else in your life tells you the opposite, at one point it starts to become a bit hard to believe."

He watched me for a moment, his vibrant green eyes staring me down as I started to shift in my seat, feeling uncomfortable in his glare. He sent a small smile my way, his eyes holding a type of pity in them that I hadn't seen in a while.

"What was your book about," he finally asked, watching me intently as I shrugged.

"Wasn't anything profound," I said carelessly, suddenly feeling sick at the thought of my brother. "A girl trying to get through life while dealing with a loss, it was mostly just about her breaking down over every detail that reminded her of someone."

"Must have been hard to write about," he told me, chuckling slightly as I tilted my head to the side. "Loss."

"Writing from personal experiences is easy," I sighed, suddenly becoming uneasy at the thought of him knowing this much about me. But then again, I will never see him after today... what's the harm that could be done from opening up to a stranger? If anything, my therapist would count this as a win for me. "But now I'm shit out of luck. Because death seems to be the only thing that sparks my ability to write something good. So I guess my mother had been right all along, yeah?"

"Your own mother tells you that?" He questioned, another hint of pity in his eyes as I shrugged.

"Yeah," I chuckled dryly. "That along with a lot of other things."

I took another sip of my drink, almost choking on it when Harry asked, "Well, what about a boyfriend?"

"What," I quipped, coughing a bit as I tried to regain my composure.

He paused for a moment, his fingers circling around the rim of his glass as he cocked his head to the side. "I would hope that your boyfriend is supportive of your work," he said, a smug smile on his face as if he had already known the answer. "Unless you don't have one of course?"

I scoffed slightly at the words, the alcohol running through my body causing me to say harshly, "Haven't had a boyfriend in four years after I walked in on him fucking my mother."

His face fell completely as his jaw followed. He was lost for words, having the same reaction as most people did when I told them about what happened. But then again none of them were really surprised. This was my mother we were talking about... and nothing that woman does can surprise anyone anymore.

"Do you really think I would've fucked you in the bathroom if I had a boyfriend," I said, laughing lightly as Harry's face shifted into a slight smile, a small blush creeping along his neck. "Or are you just some psycho that's trying to figure out if anyone is waiting for me so that way you can kill me?"

"The latter," he laughed, closing his eyes for a moment as he sipped his whiskey.

"Then cheers to you finally putting me out of my fucking misery," I joked, smirking at him as I raised my glass in the air, waiting for him to join.

The sound of our glasses clinking together echoed through the air as a smile fell onto his face. It was a genuine one, one that had my heart beating in my ears as the dimple carved into his cheek. His long hair fell off to the side as he ran his fingers through it, watching me intently as our actions copied each other. Both of our hands brought the glasses to our lips, our eyes never leaving one another as we sipped our drinks with smiles slowly flooding onto our faces.

I was about to open my mouth to speak when the sound of my phone ringing from my bag cut me off. I groaned slightly, running my fingers through my hair as I pulled my phone out of my bag and saw the contact calling me.

Devil in Disguise

I rolled my eyes, turning to Harry with an apologetic look as he chuckled deeply at the name of the contact. I suddenly felt a sense of pride running through me, knowing that something I did made the complete stranger smile at me so enduringly. But nevertheless I answered the call, the sound of her voice making me cringe, a chill running down my spine as though I had been hearing nails down a chalkboard.

"Hey mom," I answered, my entire body going limp at the sound of her voice.

"Rowan," she snapped. "You know your father has been looking forward to this day since you promised him you would be here. It is very selfish of you to not show up on time without even a text or a phone call. So please, enlighten me with the knowledge if you are coming or not because my anger with you is starting to hit a breaking point."

"I already told you I was on my way," I sighed, already feeling drained even though I have only spoken to her for maybe... maybe five seconds. "There have been some delays at the airport because of the snow, there isn't much I can do about it at this point. But I already talked to dad before you called, he knows I'm coming."

"Is it that big of a deal that I want to know for myself if my daughter will be gracing us with her presence tonight?" She asserted, her tone in an aggravated nature as I rested my chin in my hands. "It is rude that I need to find out from your father what is going on with you instead of having you tell me yourself."

"I'm sorry," I announced, giving in. I didn't have the will to fight with her on this. "I will be leaving soon, I just need to get my luggage."

"Was that so hard?" My mother spat, hearing the disappointment in her voice as I shook my head. "Speaking to me like an adult instead of acting like a child?"

"No," I answered, suddenly feeling insecure as I turned to look at Harry.

He had been watching me with a look of pity, a look that I have been too acquainted with since we have started talking. But I figured he was able to hear the conversation with my mother, his body moving closer to mine as he rested his hand on my knee. Usually, the intimate touch of a stranger would have me cowering away, feeling uncomfortable. But for some reason, seeing his ring-clad fingers wrap around my thigh gave me a sense of comfort that I hadn't felt in a while. I sent him a small smile, causing him to nod his head at me.

"What time will you be here," she snapped once more, causing me to roll my eyes as I tried to contain my annoyance.

"I haven't even gotten off the plane mom," I lied, watching as Harry's smirk grew on his face as he sipped his whiskey. "I'll be there soon though. The shuttle will take me to the station in about a half hour so I should be at your house no later than 5, I'll be just in time for dinner."

"Rebecca and Mae will be here at 4:30," she pressed, the tone of her voice changing slightly, her words curt. "I told her we would eat when they arrived."

"Then start without me," this conversation was going nowhere and I was seconds away from losing it on this woman with Harry next to me. "It's not like I'm going to make or break the dinner, I'll get there as soon as I can, okay. I promise."

"You're not doing me any favors, Rowan."

I have heard that one before. The day I moved as far as I could from that woman without a passport. The day I finally stood up for myself and got the fuck away from the hell that would suffocate me almost every day. We had gotten into a fight after my brother passed, if I'm being completely honest I don't even know what the fight started from. But it escalated quickly, and words were said that hurt both of us... but none more than they hurt me. That was her game, getting inside of your head when you were at your lowest and dragging you further into the clutches of self pity, making you believe that it wasn't going to get any better.

I hung up the phone, not being able to handle the conversation anymore as I sighed softly. I placed my elbows on the counter in front of me, taking in the way Harry had stiffened at the emotions seemingly breaking free from my body. I ran my fingers through my hair, tossing it over my shoulder as I took out a 50 from my purse and threw it onto the table.

I picked up the rest of my drink and slammed it down my throat, allowing for the alcohol to burn slightly as it traveled down to my stomach. I closed my eyes, licking my lips before I smiled at the bartender, motioning to the money on the counter. "Keep the change," I sighed, giving him a small nod as he clutched the fifty in his hands.

"Merry Christmas," he beamed, eyes lighting up as I chuckled softly.

"Yeah," I hummed, grabbing the handle of my luggage and throwing my purse on top of it. The words leaving my lips grumbled through my body as I dryly chuckled. "Merry fucking Christmas."

I nodded once more towards the young bartender as I turned back to Harry. "It was nice meeting you," I smiled kindly, ready for the day to be over as I said. "Not too late to be some kind of murderer, would save me from the hell I'm knowingly walking into."

"Sorry, pretty girl," he mused, watching me intently as he shook his head.

The nickname slipped through his lips as though it was second nature, causing a smile to spread onto my face without consent as I looked around the bar. My eyes met his once more as I gave him another smile.

"Then I guess this is goodbye," I said, trying to hide the hint of sadness in my voice. "Merry Christmas, Harry."

"Merry Christmas, Rowan."

With a small nod from him, I turned away from my stool that had become my home for the last three hours. Leaving the empty spot I once sat and Harry alone as I ventured through the crowded airport.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting the airport to be like on Christmas Eve. I think a part of me just naturally assumed that people would be with their families, or if they were visiting, already there. But then again maybe all the people aimlessly pushing through the crowd were the same as I was. Someone praying for time to stop, praying for some sort of miracle that they would close their eyes and as soon as the flutter opened... the day would be over. That Christmas would be over along with the heartbreak that followed it.

The people inside of the airport were not full of what Buddy The Elf once called Christmas Cheer. Instead they moved like zombies, one just as emotionless as the person beside them. They were all in their own worlds, some on the phone as they frantically pushed through the crowd, others simply reading a book as they waited for whatever they were going to do next. I was envious of those people. Because it seemingly appeared as though they had nowhere to be. Didn't have people waiting on them... just to be disappointed with the person they were like always.

The handle of my luggage was tightly gripped in my hand, trailing behind me as I draped my winter coat over my shoulder, sighing out of relief when I saw that the snow was now falling from the sky in a calm manner. It wasn't as harsh and frantic as it had been before, dramatically smacking against the windows, the pavement, and the cars.

I had always loved the snow, if I were being honest with myself I would say how much I missed it. The way the soft flakes of frozen water hit the Earth in such a way, coating the ground, shielding it from all of the troubles that seemed to be non-existent once the first snow flake hit the ground beneath us. It almost seemed that everyone was happier, like the sheets of white littering the ground made people stop and look at the beautiful world around them. A winter wonderland right outside of their very door, wanting nothing more than to be cherished... admired.

But then again, snow is a lot like us. Because in the beginning, it's beautiful. So simply perfect that it makes us almost scared to even walk across it. But then the snow becomes ice. Ice that becomes dangerous. Hurting the same people that once did nothing more other than admire its beauty.

The double doors to the airport opened in front of me, guiding me to the line that was patiently waiting outside for the shuttle to take us to the train station. I zipped my coat up, shivering slightly at the temperature change as I waited for the shuttle to arrive. There were only about 12 people standing with me, each of us colder than the one before as we stood in a silent harmony that was filled with nothing more than a small "excuse me" that came from those trying to get around us.

As I stood in the snow, my mind for some reason found its way lingering to Harry. The way his voice rang through my ears like a symphony in the theater. The way his heart shaped lips were the most perfect form of pink I had ever seen or the way they started to get swollen when he bit it too hard. The way his large hand felt wrapped around my leg, causing my mind to slip to the most certainly inappropriate exchange in the bathroom. How his groans caused my stomach to flip as his hair wove perfectly through my fingertips.

It made me wonder if he was thinking about me the way I had been about him. If he was sitting at the bar now, thinking about my legs wrapped around his waist or my lips locked on his. Maybe he was thinking about my hands running down his chest, stopping at the place he longed for them to touch most as he rolled his hips against mine.

Maybe he was thinking about how pathetic I was. That I was the type of person who had sex with anything that breathed, if that was my game. Sleeping with strangers that sit next to me on flights longer than two hours. Perhaps he thought that I wasn't thinking of him, his mind might find it hard to believe that having sex with him wasn't out of character, like he was just another name on my list of people I have fucked.

Maybe he wasn't even thinking about me at all.

And for some reason, my chest tightened in a way that was new to me. Because for some reason I would rather have Harry think I threw myself at every man that grazes the Earth... than never giving me a second thought at all.

But then suddenly, the sound of someone panting heavily glided through the air. The sound of luggage smacking against the ground along with a harsh "fucking hell" finally caused me to turn around as I saw the man that had been showing up just when I thought I would never see him again.

"Good you're still here," he smiled when he saw me standing in front of him. "I was scared your shuttle already left."

"Harry?" Stunned was the only word that could be used to describe the way I had been feeling staring at Harry. He looked as though he had been running for quite some time, his chest moving deeply as his breathing matched the pace of a sprinter after a meet. "What are you doing?"

"Your mother is a horrible person," he announced, causing an amused chuckle to leave my lips as I smiled softly.

"And when you left I started thinking about the horrible things she has said to you, how she made you feel and I couldn't get it out of my head. Then it finally hit me how she slept with your boyfriend and the next thing I knew, I was practically throwing money at the bartender trying to catch up to you."

"That's sweet of you Harry but I don't need your pity," I said kindly, hating myself for even being so open with him in the first place. "It's really okay, nothing you needed to waste your whiskey on. Did you even get to finish it?"

"No," he said sheepishly, running his fingers through his long hair. "And it's not okay, you shouldn't have to face that kind of torment alone. No matter if it's coming from your mother or not."

"Yeah," I laughed dryly, shrugging my shoulders. "That's kinda why I had been avoiding leaving the bar stool all day."

He looked at me for a moment, his breathing finally coming to a steady rhythm as his green eyes held me captive in his gaze. He licked his lips slowly, taking his thumb and pointer finger to lips as he said the last thing I had ever expected to hear.

"Which is why I'm coming with you."

I laughed.

Fully laughed as the strangers around me probably thought I was losing my mind. Hell, I almost was sure I was losing my mind at the absolute knee slapper the man before me just said.

"What?" I said, trying to get a hold of my breathing as he looked at me intently.

His stare was bold, his eyebrows almost threading together as he tilted his chin down slightly, looking at me through his lashes as though he couldn't believe that I thought he was joking.

"I'm serious, Rowan."

I laughed once more as I said, "Harry, you can't just randomly show up at my house on Christmas Eve, what am I supposed to tell my family? 'Hey mom, yeah this is Harry. I met him on the flight here, fucked him in the bathroom at the back of the plane, told him about what an insufferable bitch you are and now he wants to spend the holidays with us to save me from you'."

"I was thinking of more along the lines of just saying I was your boyfriend," he scoffed, rolling his eyes as my jaw dropped.

I stared at him for a moment, making sure that I in fact wasn't going out of my mind. But he simply stood with his luggage behind him, his fist clutching the handle as I raised my eyebrow at him.

"What's in this for you?" I asked, genuinely confused as to why he would want to do this, especially for a stranger.

"Sticking up to your mother for one," he said carelessly as he shrugged his shoulders. "Feel like it could be pretty fun. I would rather do that than be stuck in the hotel room all night."

"You're serious?" I said, repeating the words back to him that he said a few moments ago. "And then you'll leave, just like that? Nothing more, nothing less?"

"Nothing more, nothing less," he nodded. "I'm moving back to England in a few months anyway. Plus we could even have a big break up fight if you want, make it seem like I'm an asshole. Maybe your mum would like it if she sees you kick me to the curb."

I smiled softly at his remark, a small chuckle leaving his lips too as we both stayed silent. The sound of the shuttle approaching us made me turn my head quickly, finding myself bite my lip at his offer.

"Offering to go home with a stranger," I joked, trying to find a reason to decline. "Sure you're not going to kill me?"

He laughed carelessly, throwing his head back as a cackle left his lips. "I promise I won't kill you," he stated, trying to hold back a smile. "But if your mother is as bad as you say then I might have to hold back."

The shuttle stopped in front of us, the strangers watching the scene unfold in front of them whispering to themself. As if they couldn't believe his offer either.

He suddenly spoke again, bringing me back to earth as he leaned against his luggage with a smirk on his face.

"So what's your take, pretty girl?"

~

The train to the city was almost my favorite part of living in Chicago. Christmas time was the best time of year to overlook the city, watching from above as the train roared over the tracks. The lights from the trees and buildings that skyscraped over the horizon of Lake Michigan taking my breath away everytime I looked out of the window.

It was the same from when I was a child, the snow that littered the ground glistening from the lights of the street lamps along with the bright glow from the moon.

I hadn't been back since my brother passed. I packed my bags and got the hell away from the city. The place that used to be my home now becoming my nightmare as the memories from my childhood flood through my mind.

I could almost still hear my brother's music humming through the headphone as his leg tapped to the beat of the song. I could still see the smile on his face as we talk about how we were going to spend next Christmas downtown all day, going to the see the new themes they have in the windows along State Street and look at the lights hung on the houses down Lake Shore Drive as he tells me about his plans for when he finally is rich enough to "kick it with the elites".

There wasn't anyone who loved what we called home more than my brother. All he ever dreamed of having was at his fingertips... and now he's gone... along with all of the plans he had for us.

"What about your father," Harry asked, pulling me out of my thoughts as I turned to look at him. "Is he going to be there too?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling at the thought of my favorite person in the world. "His name is Blake."

"And we like him right?" He assured, almost as if he was taking mental notes as I nodded my head.

"We love him," I corrected, watching as Harry nodded his head. "He was the only person who believed in me since day one. He was the one who bought my one way ticket to California and told me to never look back until I finally had what I deserved."

"I like him," he decided, nodding his head as leaned back into the seat facing me.

"I have a feeling he'll like you too," I laughed, noticing a smile falling onto his face. "But we're going to need to go over the rest of who will be there tonight because as my boyfriend I feel like you should know my family?"

The last part came out as more of a question. My head still trying to wrap around the fact that Harry Styles — the stranger who just hours ago I was fucking on the plane thinking I would never see again — now sat across from me on a train heading back to my childhood home.

"That's true," he hummed, turning to look out of the window. "Lay it on me, tell me everything I need to know about the Kelly family."

"Well there's my father, Blake," I stated again as he nodded his head. "He's a carpenter, right now he is working on redoing Soldier Field's layout. He is very proud of that, so I would suggest bringing it up whenever you get the chance."

"I'm guessing he's a Bears fan then," he groaned, leaning back once more.

"Actually no," I laughed. "He grew up in Milwaukee, the guy is a huge Packer's fan. Has a hat for every team in the league and wears it for whoever the Bears are playing and hosts a party whenever they lose."

"Good man," he quipped with a smile on his face.

I laughed softly at his fondness, scolding at myself for finding it to be quite adorable actually. He had the smallest smile on his face, his dimples coming into view as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"And then there's my mother," I sighed, finding myself leaning back onto the seat as I stretched my legs across from me so they were on the seat beside him. "Laura."

He gave me another small smile, placing his hand onto my ankle as he patted it sympathetically. My gaze met his, green eyes filling with kindness causing my blood to rush through my body as a small blush crept onto my cheeks.

"She is a lawyer, one of the best in Chicago and had gained a lot of publicity when she was a part of the case with Joseph Lombardo back in '05. When he was finally convicted in 2007, a lot of people looked up to my mother because not a lot of women had handled such a public case, or one with as many stakes, before. Apparently he was pretty big and she gained a lot of respect after that," I explained. "The reason why her head is so fucking big if I'm honest. A lot changed after that... especially her."

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I couldn't imagine how hard it was for you."

"It's okay," I sent a smile his way before I sighed once more. "But I won't lie, at first it was scary. So many people associated with The Outfit wanted my mother dead after it happened. She had a target on her back for a long time, meaning so did the rest of us until someone else from the mob was indicted. She took a break from law for a couple of years until things died down. Once she went back it was almost like the beginning of the end to our family."

"Are you parents still together?" He asked.

"No," I shook my head. "They got divorced a few years ago, after everything with my ex. My dad finally realized that she wasn't the woman that he fell in love with, finally saw how much she had changed over the years and got his head on straight. He left her after I moved."

"And he's there today?" He questioned, almost as if he couldn't believe it. "After everything that happened, he can stand to be in the same room as her?"

"My dad's heart is too big for his own good," I told him honestly. "He doesn't blame her for what happened. At first he even blamed himself, he said that he should've been more there for her when everything happened."

"With the case?"

For some reason, his blatant interest in my family made my chest feel warm. I know it was for the act, making sure he knew every detail about my life to make it all more believable. But for the first time in a long time, it still felt nice to have someone listen, to have someone care.

"Yeah," I breathed softly. "But the last couple years before their marriage ended was tough on our whole family. He blames himself for a lot of it. Saying that my mother had been through a tough time, that it was his job to help her get through it."

I hadn't realized that his hand was still on my leg until he gave my ankle a soft squeeze in reassurance. "Who else is going tonight?" He asked, changing the subject as I thanked him silently.

"My family is pretty small, but my grandmother, Peggy, will be there. She is a very strong-willed woman so I do have to warn you. She will grill you about everything to make sure you're good enough for me," I laughed, thinking about my barely five-foot grandmother next to Harry. "But her heart is as good as gold and she loves her family more than anything."

I ran my fingers through my hair as I continued. "My mom's sister and her fiancé will be there, but they mostly stay to themselves so there isn't much to worry about there. My cousins are going to be at their dad's house for Christmas Eve, so they aren't going to be there which is a good thing."

"Why's that?" He chuckled deeply.

"Because my cousin Ally is almost as bad as my mother," I started dryly. "Let's just say that Laura isn't the only one who has had her go at my boyfriends."

"You're kidding," his jaw dropped slightly as his eyes widened, speechless at my confession.

"I fucking wish," I laughed, finding it all quite amusing especially given his reaction.

He mumbled something quietly to himself that I missed before he asked, "Is she your age?"

"A few months younger," I answered. "She just turned twenty four last month but my birthday is in May."

"May what?" He asked, leaning a bit to the left so his body was almost resting against my outstretched legs.

"Can't change the subject just yet curly," I mused, slightly nudging him with my leg. "There's a couple more people coming tonight.

"Original," he quipped, running his fingers through his hair as he smiled. "But I think I — your boyfriend for the night — should know your birthday, pretty girl. What if someone asks and I choke? That's a pretty big thing to know about your girlfriend isn't it?"

Pretty girl.

I wasn't sure if it was the way his deep voice was igniting something in my body or the way his accent sounded like a song I could hear forever. But whatever it was, I knew it was going to kill me never hearing those two words leave his lips after tonight.

"The 24th," I smiled as he held my leg. "My birthday is May 24th."

"24th," he said, testing the date out in the air as he nodded his head. "Okay, continue."

I laughed lightly at his nature, finding myself getting lost in the way it was so easy to carry a conversation with him. He was so intrigued with the small back story of my life, the way his eyes never hinted of boredom as he listened intently to every word I said. I had to keep reminding myself that it was just an act, that he needed to play that part or else this whole thing would be more embarrassing than it already was... my family finding out it was all fake.

"The two most important people are going to be there tonight," I said, my voice wavering as I spoke. "My sister-in-law, Rebecca and her daughter Mae."

"You have siblings?" He asked, tilting his head to the side as he continued. "But I thought—"

"He died," I said, cutting him because I could bear the thought of the question on the tip of his tongue.

"Rowan," he said softly.

His voice held such pity, such sadness... it caused me to turn away to look at the city beside me. I knew that sound before, the sound of the person before me trying to figure out what to say. The way they held such remorse, such pity for me as they watched me try to not fall apart. It had been four years, but just the sound of his name could send the night it happened feeling as though it was only yesterday.

"He was sick," I said, knowing that I would rather hear the sound of my voice fighting back the tears than the pity in his own.

"You don't have to talk about it," he said softly, his fingers now tracing small circles at my ankles as I sighed.

"But I should," I told him. "He is going to be brought up tonight and it's better if you know because if not it will ruin everything."

"Are you sure," he questioned, his voice soft yet deep as he looked at me kindly. "I know enough now. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

I nodded my head, trying my hardest to fight back the tears as I turned to Harry. His eyes held something in them that I had never seen before. Because while others had looked at me with pity, with sorrow, with hurt... he held something different. Because he looked at me the way I looked at my father. In my eyes, my father was the strongest, most admirable person I had ever met. And until that moment, I had never seen another soul look at anyone that way before.

A part of me had wished that I had met him under a different circumstance. The one where we were at a coffee shop and I accidentally spilled my coffee on him. He would simply laugh and say that it was okay, that he had plenty of shirts at home and not to worry. He would offer to buy me a coffee since mine was now covering his front. We would sit in the small booth in the corner of the cafe, sharing details of our lives, talking as though we had known each other forever.

Maybe we would meet at a bookstore, one where we both went to grab the same book. Maybe it was at a bar near my home, one where he would offer to buy me a drink but I would decline saying I could buy my own. Maybe it was just on the street, both of us too busy with our lives to realize that we were walking in the same path, almost sending each other to the ground at the collision we would have.

Anything would have been better than this. The one where my drive to bury my sadness with sex and he was just the poor man sitting beside me. Anything would have been better than never seeing him again after this. Because after all... he's only doing this because he feels pity for me, not because he wants to.

"We should probably come up with a story on how we met," I said, pulling myself out of my thoughts as I looked at him.

"I was thinking maybe we could tell them about we met in the plane and had the best sex of my life," he smirked, watching my expression as I tried to play cool.

"Too trashy," I shrugged, hiding the blush that was creeping onto my face as he laughed.

"So what were you thinking," he asked, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

If only he had known what I had been thinking... he would have gotten off at the next stop as fast as he could. But once again I tried to hide my thoughts that had run through my head just moments ago, so instead I simply shrugged again.

"Maybe we could just say that we met through our companies. My mother won't really care enough to ask, and my father knows I'm pretty private when it comes to my dating life so he won't ask me anything. But he'll definitely try to sneak in a story from you, so you can make up whatever you want. Just make sure you tell me after so our stories align just in case."

"Have you done this before," he asked, a playful smirk on his face. "Deceived your whole family into thinking you're dating someone, you seem to be quite the professional."

"I just know how they are," I said truthfully.

He paused for a moment as he ran his fingers through his hair. His long, thick, brown curls falling down his shoulders as he looked at me softly. "I'll tell them that when I first saw you, it was like the world stopped spinning. All I wanted was to get closer to you, just to stand next to you. But then you suddenly looked up at me and I think I stopped breathing."

His words immediately made me think of when I first saw him earlier that day in the airport. I had almost been late to my flight, my hair falling everywhere as I quickly sat down in a chair at the terminal, quickly grabbing a brush from my carry on to try and smooth out my seemingly uncontrollable hair. I had been so consumed in my own world that I hadn't noticed the man staring at me until I looked up. And I was met with the most captivating, green eyes I had ever seen.

"I'll say that I was nervous when you caught me looking at you, that I was sure you would think I was some creep for staring. But I couldn't help myself. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen had just walked into the room, and I couldn't take my eyes off of her even if I tried."

I wasn't sure if it was my mind coming up with the idea that Harry had been honest when he was talking, but the words left my lips before I could stop them. "And I'll say that I never wanted to look away because of how pretty your eyes were."

He blushed at the compliment. The hint of red creeping onto his cheeks made me smile, because even if he wasn't telling me the truth... I was.

"And I'll tell them about when you first spoke to me, I thought I was dreaming because there was no way in hell I was lucky enough to be the person you wanted to spend your time with. I'll tell them all about the trance I was put into hearing your voice. The way your lips turned up when you talked about what you loved. How the only thing I wanted was to be brave enough to finally feel what they would be like on mine."

Subconsciously, my fingers ran over my lips at his confession. The flesh suddenly began to tingle with the memories of his lips on mine. And for some reason, all I wanted to do was kiss him again.

"And finally," he said, his voice much quieter this time as he spoke. "I'll tell them how I'm pretty sure it was the best day of my life."

I smiled once more, my mind drifting back to the memories of the bathroom. My eyes flickered down to his hands, the one that was still wrapped around my leg as a chill ran down my spine at the thought of it wrapped around my body. Holding me against him as his other hand laced through my hair.

Harry began to tell me about his own life. The one about his mother, father and his siblings. He was the youngest of his two other siblings. A sister falling between him and his brother, telling me about the adventures they would get into when they were kids. Although his sister was the smallest of the three, she definitely was the most influential of the group. Even when they were younger she was always getting them into trouble. His older brother blindly following everything his sister would tell them to do simply because of the fact that they couldn't say no to her.

He told me about his father, how he worked for an office in England and was promoted a few years back. His mother was an interior designer, her work being highly profitable throughout all of London. They had enough and then some to make them comfortable, sending him and both of his siblings to private school just outside of Manchester before his parents moved to London to make it easier for work. He told stories about him in school, how much he loved reading and now works for a publishing company out in California for about five years now.

He told me about how he simply wanted to get away. How the pressure of being a Styles was tough on him as a child. His siblings were incredibly smart, both of them now doctors in England. He knew that wasn't what he wanted to do, so he took off to America in search for something new.

But his father was sick, he needed to go back to England for a bit to get everything taken care of. He wasn't sure how long he was going to stay, maybe he was going to stay forever. But he needed to be there with his family, there was no telling what the future held for his father. He just needed to be there with him.

"Confession," he said, almost as if he was asking me as I nodded my head. "I knew who you were once you told me your name on the flight."

"You did," I asked, not expecting to hear that as he nodded his head.

"When your book first got published last year, my boss was invited to your celebration your publisher held. He had been going on and on about your book, and how Maxwell shouldn't get the pleasure of having your book come from his publications," he said sheepishly. "I got curious and read it."

"But before you pretended like you didn't earlier," I said, not mad, just confused as to why he thought he had to hide it.

"After we got off of the flight I Googled you," he chuckled, shaking his head as he bit his lip. "Just to make sure. And I meant what I said. You should be proud of your work, Rowan. It is good, powerful."

"Thank you," a small blush crept its way onto my cheeks once more as I smiled shyly.

The conductor of the train came echoing through the empty train car, the only two people in view being myself and Harry. He announced our stop, a sigh leaving my body at the thought of seeing my mother. But with the small amount of courage I have, I stood from my seat, signaling Harry to follow as we made our way to the back of the train, standing in front of the door to wait for our stop.

~

My house that I had grown up in wasn't far from the train station. Only a five block radius to be exact. The snow was still falling, the soft gentle coldness hitting the only exposed part of my body as I led us towards the block I knew like the back of my hand.

The street lights had lights wrapped around the pole, the Johnson's across the street building the snowman like they do every year with their kids, only now their grandkids became part of the tradition. When Mr. Johnson saw me, he stopped his movements, turning to his wife who smiled widely at me. They both waved, exchanging glances towards one another as Harry grabbed my hand.

"Couples do this right," he whispered, gesturing down to our hands as I laughed.

"Hold hands," I joked, lacing our fingers together as I nodded. "Yeah, they usually do that."

I walked us up the stairs of the house, suddenly feeling nervous as I reached for the doorknob. It was at that moment that I realized this was now or never. If we were going to do this, this was it. It all started there, standing on my doorstep with my hand laced with Harry's. He must have noticed my apprehension, because his thumb grazed the back of my knuckles as he turned his body to me.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours," he asked, his voice in almost a whisper as I turned to him.

"This is your out," I told him, suddenly feeling like I was going to throw up. "You don't have to do this for me. You should walk away and we can pretend like none of this ever happened. It'll be easier that way."

"I'm not going to do that, Rowan. We're in this together now, okay?"

"We are," I asked, feeling scared, embarrassed, and ashamed. "Because it's okay if you go."

"Do you want me to," he asked, his thumb's motions on my knuckles stopping completely.

I looked down at our hands as I sighed softly. "No," I admitted. "But to be honest, I'm really fucking embarrassed right now."

"Why?" He wondered, his voice so soft, so caring that I almost kissed him on the front porch.

"Because you felt so bad for me that you wanted to pretend to be my boyfriend," I said, a dry chuckle leaving my lips. "And the fact that when we get in there, I just know my mother is going to have a fucking field day with you."

"I don't feel bad for you, Rowan," he said quickly before he shook his head. "I mean, like, the reason I'm doing this isn't because I feel bad for you. I'm doing this because I was going to be kicking myself later for letting you walk away from me without at least trying. I'm afraid that I'm sleeping right now. That I'm going to wake up on that plane being exactly how I started. Just a stranger next to you on a flight."

His confession almost knocked me to the ground. My knees felt weak and I was sure that my hand was clammy intertwined with his.

"But we're doing this," he proclaimed, reaching up and taking my shaky hand that wasn't locked with his back to the door. "And we're gonna put on a damn good show too, Rowan Kelly."

I couldn't stop myself as I stood on the tips of my toes and kissed his dimples cheek. My actions took him off guard, but I couldn't let him react as I pushed the door open.

The smell of ham, stuffing, and mashed potatoes instantly hit me as I guided Harry through the house. He had changed on the train ride over here, now wearing dress pants and a white buttoned up shit. His hair was still down, his curls running wild and he had a wide smile on his face. I was still in my leggings, our luggage clinking behind us as they clashed together. But nevertheless with a new attitude running through my veins I made myself known in the house, causing everyone to stop what they were doing to turn and look at us.

"Hi," I announced, a smile on my face for the first time in what felt like years inside the four walls of that house.

"Rowan," my father breathed, a smile wide on his face as he walked towards me.

He pulled me in for a hug, Harry letting go of my hand as I wrapped my arms around my father. He held me tight, kissing the side of my head as he whispered how much he had missed me in my ear. Tears rushed to my eyes at the smell of my dad. Because as silly as it might sound, I had almost forgotten what he had smelled like. I had spent the past four years trying to forget it all. Forget the pain that this city had caused me, forget the place that used to be my escape instead of my nightmare, forget about the way my father's hugs felt... because it hurt less than missing them.

But being with him brought out an emotion that I hadn't felt in four years either... love.

"Hey dad," I whispered softly, hiding my face in his neck. "I've missed you."

My father pulled away, wiping the small tear in his eyes as he placed his hands on my shoulders. "Not nearly as much as I've missed you."

We had been so wrapped up in our own little world that I hadn't even realized that my mother had made her way over to us. I glanced at her quickly, rolling my eyes as she stood in front of Harry.

"And you are," she said, a small smirk forming on her lips as she looked at Harry.

With my ex, I hadn't really cared about the way my mother looked at him. He wasn't that great of a guy, I didn't even think I really loved him. But for some reason, watching her look at Harry like he was a piece of meat had my blood boiling.

My father simply rolled his eyes, scoffing a bit as he moved back and leaned against the couch. I watched as Harry looked at me with a hint of nervousness to him, before finally turning back to my mother.

"I'm Harry," he said, stepping towards me as he wrapped his arm around me.

I wasn't surprised by his actions, in fact I leaned into his touch as I wrapped my arm around his waist. I was, however, thrown in for a loop I never imagined when the words slipped through his heart shaped lips.

"Rowan's fiancé."

I think I may have blacked out, like genuinely blacked out because once those two words echoed through my ears I wasn't entirely sure what happened next. My mother's jaw dropped along with my father's as they looked at me with a shocked expression.

Harry just stood with a nervous smile on his face, as if he hadn't been completely sure what he had said either as the arm that was wrapped around me grew tighter.

"We're going to go put our bags in my room," I called out, leaving everyone completely dumbfounded as my hand trailed down Harry's body to lace our hands together.

He made no objection as he followed me aimlessly, his long legs walking up the stairs slowly as we walked down the hall and into my childhood bedroom. I closed the door behind us, finally able to catch my breath as I turned to look at him.

"Nothing more, nothing less," I mocked in his accent, before my voice called out in a whisper-yell. "What the fuck was that, Harry?!"

"I'm sorry okay," he said, running his fingers through his hair in a frantic manner. "The way your mum was looking at me freaked me the fuck out and I panicked. I didn't even know what I was saying until I saw everyone's reactions."

I sighed softly, watching as Harry took a step closer. He rested his hand onto my shoulder before the pads of his fingers trailed down my arm, goosebumps rising in place before he reached my hand and locked his fingers with mine. He stepped closer, his grip on my hand tightening as he whispered, "I'm really sorry, Ro."

"It's okay," I exhaled, seemingly being put under a spell as he looked at me longingly before I tried to joke. "It just might be a bit harder to make our break up more believable now you've put a ring on it."

He laughed softly, taking the hand that wasn't intertwined with his and tucked a piece of hair out of my face. He licked his lips before looking back into my eyes, the pair flickering between mine and my lips before he slowly leaned forward.

I couldn't stop myself from following his movements, his lips ghosting over mine, his minty breath fanning my face before a knock on the door along with the sound of someone walking in pulled us apart from each other quickly.

"Oh my god," she said quickly, standing in the doorway with wide eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't know someone was with you."

I stepped away from Harry, meeting eyes with Rebecca as I shook my head. "It's okay," I told her with a smile. "Becca, this is Harry, my fiancé".

Harry smiled widely, running his fingers through his hair as he reached his hand out to shake hers. But Rebecca simply stared at him for a moment before she shook her head. "Hand shakes are far too formal," she laughed, her southern accent bringing a smile to my face as she threw her arms around his shoulders. "I'm a hugger."

Harry laughed with her, hugging her back as he looked over at me. I sent him a small smile, one that he returned to me before the sound of light footsteps came to a halt at the door.

"An' Rowie!" Mae yelled, still barely able to say her R's as she came running towards me, making me bend down to pick her up. "Missed you."

"I've missed you more bug," I smiled, sending a kiss to her cheek as she giggled.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me impossibly closer as I turned to look at Harry and Rebecca. Rebecca had tears in her eyes, watching us with joy as Harry watched with a look of fondness. His eyes hooded over as though he was in a trance, a small smile on his face as he stepped closer to the two of us.

"Hello, little one," he smiled, sending a small wave as he tickled her tummy. "You look very pretty in your dress."

Mae wiggled in my arms, signaling that she wanted to be put down as she smiled widely at Harry. She made sure he was still watching her, before she twirled around, giggling once more as she craned her neck up to look at Harry.

"Wow," Harry smiled, kneeling down in front of her. "Best twirl I have ever seen!"

She stopped for a second, the smile on her face turning into one of concentration before she stepped towards him. Her small pudgy hand reached out in front of her, her fingers grabbing a small lock of his hair as she wrapped it around her fingers.

"Pwetty," she mumbled, smiling to herself when Harry laughed.

"Thank you, love," he smiled, poking her belly once more as she held her arms in the air.

Harry chuckled to himself before he stood up, bending down to pick Mae up and placing her on his waist. He turned to look at us, both of us shocked by the little girl's reaction to him.

"What," he asked, confusion in his voice as he narrowed his eyes slightly.

Mae was a very shy kid, she was not one to open to strangers easily, she had been that way ever since she was a baby. Rebecca and Mae had visited me a handful of times since I had been in California, and each time the small girl had spent the days in either mine or her mother's arms, barely speaking to anyone other than the two of us.

"Nothing," Becca said as she shook her head, smiling widely as he turned to her daughter. "Are you ready to see if Nanna needs our help?"

"Yes!" Mae giggled, throwing her arms in the air as Becca attacked her with kisses being peppered to her cheeks.

I watched with a smile on my face as Harry grabbed my hand again. When the mother daughter duo finally left, leaving just the two of us together, Harry turned back to me. With his eyes just as kind as his words he spoke, "I'm really sorry about the whole fiancé thing."

"It's okay," I told him honestly. "Let's just go eat, yeah?"

He nodded his head quickly, before he leaned forward to place a kiss on my cheek. "Mae is adorable," he cooed. "I just want to hold her all night."

"She is the sweetest thing," I smiled, instantly thinking about how much she reminded me of my brother. "She is a very shy kid though, I'm surprised she even talked to you."

"My mum always said I was great with kids," he said as he shrugged, almost like he was embarrassed about it. "But I'm glad because I like being around them."

"Do you want kids, then?" I found myself asking.

No matter his answer it wouldn't change anything. After tonight we were going to be exactly the way we were before, where he had his life... and I had mine. Even from our conversations on the flight I knew he had a life that was going to lead him in a direction much different than mine. He was going to move back to England. That was his plan. And simply trying to survive was mine.

"Yeah I always wanted kids," he said, his eyes growing wide with excitement as he spoke. "I want a lot of them, more than three because someone is always left out in odd numbers. I would be happy with two, hell even one child, but I want a big family because I never really had that. I want to give my children everything I didn't have and then some."

"I think you would be a really great father," I told him honestly.

Because he would be. Even with our little conversations I could see how golden his heart was. The way he spoke about his mother, how he would do everything he could for his siblings even as young as he was.

"What about you," he wondered. "Do you want to have children?"

I nodded my head, "I do. I would want them to be pretty close in age because it would be nice for them to always have someone."

"Were you close with your brother," he asked me softly.

I could tell that he truly wanted to know, that he wasn't just asking me to make conversation. The honesty he held in his eyes and the compassion in his voice made me realize that he only wanted me to answer if I was ready, if I was comfortable. That alone was reason enough for me to want to tell him everything.

"We were twelve years apart," I said fondly, thinking about all of our memories together. "But he was everything to me. After what happened with my mother's case and the danger I was unwillingly thrown into, my brother did everything in his power to protect me. Even when I grew up, and he had a wife of his own, he never once made me believe that he was too busy for me. We would talk almost every day, he was the first person to ever read anything I had written. He was my best friend and he died knowing how grateful I was for everything he did for me growing up."

"I would have loved to meet him," he told me, nodding his head slightly.

"He would've really liked you," I promised, finding myself wishing more than ever before that he was here.

He was about to speak when the sound of my father's voice carried through the house, telling us that it was time to eat. So with a small smile on my face I led us down the stairs and into the kitchen, where my own personal hell was waiting for me.

~

At first the dinner was fine, the only thing to be heard was the sound of our forks scraping against my mother's "good china" along with small conversations between Harry and Mae.

Mae had found a seat next to Harry, placing her little booster besides his chair with a smile on her face. He helped her with everything, explaining to Becca that it was no problem. The two were seemingly off in their own little world. She had asked him to color with her after dinner, which of course he had accepted without hesitation.

Throughout the night, Mae had found her way moving closer and closer to Harry before she finally stood from her seat in the middle of dinner to sit on Harry's lap. Instead of being annoyed with the toddler being attached to his hip, he just simply laughed as he picked her up. He cut his food into smaller bits, grabbing her children's fork from her plate and giving her little pieces of the ham.

"Mae, let Harry eat honey," Becca said, sending Harry an apologetic look.

"Oh no, don't worry about it," he reassured, simply smiling throughout the entire interaction. "Enjoy your meal Becca, I've got her."

That earned a look of gratefulness from Rebecca, and a look of satisfaction from Mae as she cuddled her body closer to his. He wrapped one arm around her waist, helping her eat the mash potatoes on his plate as they continued their pointless conversations. Once she had finished with her meal, Harry had wiped the food off of her face with a wet wipe, as she leaned into his chest and closed her eyes.

It was obvious that he melted at the sight, a small aww escaping his lips as he smiled for a picture that Becca had taken of the two. That was where she stayed for the remainder of the dinner, head laying on Harry's chest as she slept soundly.

"Just like her father," Rebecca mused, shaking her head as she looked at her daughter. "The man could fall asleep anywhere."

My chest tightened at her words, but a smile made its way onto my face thinking just how true it really was. My brother Patrick could fall asleep literally anytime, anywhere. Long car rides, train rides, in the middle of dinner, across any piece of furniture, hell he would sleep in the middle of the floor if he was tired enough.

I sat to the right of Harry, my father next to me on the end of the table as my mother sat across from him. Becca was in front of me, kicking me slightly as she winked whenever Harry did something adorable with Mae. My grandmother was beside her, watching Harry in the same manner as she smiled at him.

Throughout the dinner my grandma had been asking Harry questions whenever she got the chance, not that there were many with Mae keeping him busy. But nevertheless he would smile whenever she spoke, nodding his head politely as he talked about his life back in England.

My aunt Brigid and uncle John were fascinated with him as well. My aunt Brigid more so because every time he spoke she would light up at his accent. When she asked him how we met, he told her almost the same story he had told me on the train ride over here, never missing a beat as Brigid, Becca and my grandmother cooed over his sweet words.

My mother had yet to say a word to me, only giving me a few side glances before my father finally turned his attention away from his granddaughter to look at me.

"How is the new book coming along, Ro?"

Since the theme of the night was lying... that seemed to be the only reasonable response to his question.

"Great," I grinned, placing my knife onto the table as the lies poured out of me. "Fixing just a few rough patches on the draft and hopefully I'll send it to my editor soon."

"That's great honey," he beamed, genuine happiness on his face as he smiled at me. "Have you seen any of it yet, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, "No. Not yet. But Rowan is incredibly talented, so when she's ready I already know it's going to be great."

I turned to my left to look at him, seeing his one hand slip from around Mae's waist as he found my hand from under the table to lace our fingers together. It was comforting, having him there with me for some reason as my mother let out a scoff.

"Is that so," she asked, glaring at me from across the table. "Tell me Harry, what is it that you do again for a living?"

"Like I said," he answered, his voice breaking a bit as he took a sip of his water. "I work at a publishing company."

My mother chuckled dryly through her nose as she shook her head, "Makes sense now."

"I'm sorry," I finally asked, finding the courage to speak up as she turned to look at me completely.

"The reason for your book's success in the first place," she said in disgust. "If you would have just told me that you were sleeping with your boss it would have saved me the trouble of trying to get through your writing in the first place."

I was shocked, completely shocked as my jaw dropped open. I was about to speak when Harry tightened his grip around my hand.

"Absolutely not," he announced, his voice stern for the first time all night as he spoke. "You will not sit here and discredit your daughter's success in such a disgraceful way, especially in front of her family."

"Excuse you," my mother spoke, but she was cut off by his deep accent in the air.

"I'm not finished," he said. "The reason for her success was because she worked hard. Her talent speaks for itself, she had my boss fighting for her for months before her book was even published because he wanted something that was real and vulnerable to be with him and no one else. Rowan's book is one of the most honest, beautiful and heartbreaking things I have ever read. So I'm sorry, but no. You do not get to say that to your daughter, especially if you are going to accuse her of being successful in that nature."

Silence.

The entire table sat in silence as my mother's jaw dropped along with everyone else in the room... including mine. My aunt Brigid stopped her movements entirely, her wine glass at her lips as she fought back a smile. Except my father wasn't hiding his, he had the most smug look on his face as he looked at Harry as if he was God himself.

My mother stood from the table, giving Harry a look of disappointment before she picked her plate up from the table and walked towards the kitchen. The room was still silent for a moment before Becca finally let out a loud cackle as she smacked her hand against her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she said, tears in her eyes as she tried to hide her giggles.

Before anyone could respond, my father shook his head. His laughter suddenly echoed through the room, causing everyone to laugh harder than we had in years.

I turned to Harry with a smile on my face, a look of gratitude that I prayed he noticed as I mouthed a small 'thank you' to him.

Mae woke up at the outburst of laughter, rubbing her tired eyes as she looked up at him, "Ha-wy."

"Yes, love?" He asked, his voice in complete contrast to the one he had with my mother as he spoke to her gently.

"D-waw now?"

"Of course, darling," he smiled kindly, kissing her cheek as he stood from the table. "Let's go draw now."

"Yay!" She cheered as she threw her arms in the air, causing everyone in the room to laugh once more as she smiled, loving the fact that she was able to make us happy.

"Yay!" Harry mocked, smiling widely as he led the two out of the room with Mae in his arms.

~

Everyone had moved from the dining room table to the living room, watching a Christmas Story like we had done every year since I was a kid. My mother was in her room, clearly too embarrassed by Harry's actions towards her at dinner. But I didn't care, for the first time I was enjoying myself with my family, sitting next to my father as I laid my head on his shoulder.

"I'm happy you're here bug," he smiled, kissing the top of my head as he wrapped his arm around me. "It's not the same without you here."

"I'm happy too," I told him. "Really, really happy actually."

"He's a good one," my father said, causing me to look at Harry who was sat on the floor with Mae.

He was laying on his stomach, his feet kicked in the air as he colored in the coloring books that the four year old had brought. He was currently coloring a unicorn, using all of the colors that Mae wanted him to use as he listened to her without complaints.

Becca and I had tried to join them as my father walked into the kitchen, only to be shooed away by her daughter who wrapped her arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Mine," she told her mother, making Harry laugh loudly along with Becca.

"He's not yours, baby," Becca laughed, shaking her head as she sent me a wink. "He's here with Aunt Rowie. You're going to make her sad if she can't color with you, too."

The little girl paused for a second, staring between myself and Harry as he tried to hide the smile playing on his lips. She gave me a dangerous look, before she moved closer to Harry who simply laughed as he rolled onto his back before he picked Mae up and held her into the air.

She laughed loudly as she threw her arms to her sides, holding them out as if she was flying as she looked at her mother. Becca smiled widely, reaching to grab her phone as she took a picture of the two.

"Get over there Ro," she said, signaling for me to join the two as I chuckled. "Let me get a picture of you and Harry."

Harry placed Mae back onto the ground, causing the girl to pout for a minute before Harry said, "How about you make me a picture, love? That way I'll always have it."

"Kay," she smiled, hurrying back onto her stomach as she flipped open a new page.

She stopped at a picture of the stars in the sky, looking at Harry for his approval as he nodded his head. "That's the one," he promised, looking over at the picture she had started to color. "That's perfect, darling!"

Becca still had her phone out, nodding her head towards Harry as I rolled my eyes playfully. As I went to go stand to walk over to him, Harry simply grabbed my hand and pulled me down, causing me to fall on top of him as I laughed.

"Harry," I smiled, trying to get out of his grasp as he held me tightly in his arms. "Let me go!"

"Nope," he chuckled, popping the P as he sat up with me in his arms.

He crossed his legs together, turning me to the side as he wrapped his arms around my waist. Holding me still as he placed his hand under my leg, allowing me to sit in his lap with my side tucked into his chest. He kissed the side of my head, pinching my side playfully as he turned to look back at Becca.

"Smile, baby!"

My heart leaped out of my chest at his words. A blush creeped onto my cheeks as I placed my face in my hands, turning slightly as I hid my now crimson red face in his chest.

"I've already got it," Becca laughed, but continued to take more pictures as Harry held a cheesy grin on his face.

I tried to release myself from his hold, slightly wiggling my body to the side. Only Harry shook his head, tightening his grip around my waist as he leaned down to my ear and whispered, "I really need you to stop moving like that, Ro."

It was then I finally understood what he meant, because as I went to shift my hips once more... my backside was met with his hardening dick.

"Jesus," I gasped, turning to look at him quickly. "Really, right now?"

He simply shrugged his shoulders, a small smirk forming on his lips as he whispered, "It's not my fault, I mean look at you. Can't blame a man for becoming weak around you."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my chest tightening as I looked into his eyes. I was pulled away when I heard a giggle from beside me, looking over to see that Mae was now standing beside us. At first I paid no attention, before I noticed that her hand was stretched out in the air, almost as if she was holding something us.

You're shitting me... the kid was holding a fucking mistletoe over our heads.

She giggled loudly again, clapping her hand over her mouth as she smiled down at me and Harry. Becca had been watching with a smug look on her, letting me know what she was one who gave the stupid plant to Mae.

Harry finally looked up at Mae, shaking his head with a smile on his face as he asked, "Cheeky little thing aren't you?"

Mae once again only giggled, nodding her head as she said, "Kiss!"

"Go on Harry," Becca mused, eyes lighting up as she looked at the both of us. "Go on now, don't make the poor girl wait."

I looked at Harry who had a small grin on his face, already leaning down to kiss me. I paused at the action, suddenly realizing how real it all was. But before I had time to react, his lips were on mine.

I was broken out of my trance with his warm lips kissing mine, and I couldn't help myself from getting lost in this kiss. His hands that were around my waist pulled me closer, his lips causing a small shiver to send down my spine as I pulled him even closer to me.

The kiss was innocent, but enough for my head to go spinning as he pulled apart from me. He smiled down at me, before sending one final kiss to my lips and then his lips met my cheek.

Becca was smiling at us, Mae finding her way back into her lap as she laughed when her mother tickled her sides.

I could feel the blush falling back on to my face, causing a deep chuckle from Harry whose chest vibrated against my back. He kissed the top of my head, snuggling me closer to him as my father walked back into the room.

He had a tray in his hands, mugs full of hot chocolate with whipped cream on top. He looked down at me sat on Harry's lap, a small smile forming into his face before he set the tray down onto the table.

Mae's eyes lit up when she was her own cup on the tray, standing from her mother's lap as she walked over to my father.

"C'mon princess," he smiled, picking her up and placing her on his hip as he kissed her cheek. "You've got extra marshmallows in yours."

She cheered as my father handed her the cup, drinking it instantly as she placed her head on his shoulder. She yawned softly, taking one of her hands off of the cup to rub her tired little eyes.

"Ready for bed baby," Becca asked, standing up from her spot on the floor to walk over to her daughter.

"Yeah," she hummed, closing her eyes as my father smiled.

"Are you staying the night here?" He asked kindly.

"We're sleeping in his room tonight," she said softly. "I've got Mae's bed ready for her."

Her words made me wonder if this would be their first time being in that room since Patrick died. When they would visit for holidays or weekends, the two would always sleep in his childhood room. Becca would tease him about the spider-man action figures still sat on his dresser, or laugh at the pictures of us from when we were kids. Pat would simply smile at her, telling him how much he loved her even when she would tease him.

When Becca first came around, I instantly loved her. She was studying at the University of Chicago, where she met Patrick on the first day of their first year. He would always say that he knew he was going to marry her the first time he ever saw her. He said that he never believed in love at first sight until he saw her curls and heard her southern accent.

"I was a goner before I even knew her name."

He would say, the smile wide on his face each time he would talk about her. That was when I knew that a love like that could be real. That it wasn't just in the books I would read or the movies I would watch. Because I got to experience that kind of love first hand. The kind that everyone could feel the minute they walked into the room, the one that all were envious of because they longed for what the two had. They were soul mates... and he promised that she would be his until the day he died.

Becca was there with him through everything. The diagnosis, the treatment, the rapid decline in health. She stood by him every single day, being there to remind him how much she loved him... how much their daughter would love him for the rest of her life.

He had made it his mission to make sure that Mae knew how much he loved her. He wrote her letters for her birthday that she would open each year until she turned twenty one, he bought her a necklace that would be given to her on her eighteenth birthday, and made her a video. One with her sleeping in his arms and he promised her that he was going to be there with her every step of her life. But more importantly, promising that no matter how far apart they were... she would never be alone in the world.

Becca first showed the video to Mae a few months ago, the little girl wondering why all of the kids in her class had a mommy and daddy while she only had one. Becca had called me crying, saying she had failed her as a mother when Mae cried for hours saying that she wanted her daddy. It was then I remembered the video, and I sat on facetime with them while Mae talked to her father for the first time.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Harry's voice asking me if I was okay.

"Yeah," I said. "Just thinking."

"You're pretty," he suddenly said, looking into my eyes as I blushed.

He leaned down to kiss my cheek once more, something inside of me telling myself that I was going to miss that most after tonight was over. Then suddenly I found myself never wanting this night to end, because while before I had wished for nothing more than for this day to be over... now it meant that he would be leaving too.

"Night Paw," Mae said, hugging my father's neck as he kissed her cheek.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered.

He put Mae back down on the ground, watching her as she held her sippy cup of hot chocolate in her hands and made her way over to Harry. I got off of his lap, now sitting next to him as his arm draped over my crossed legs.

"Night, night Ha-wy," she said, holding her arms out for him to cuddle her.

He smiled instantly, taking his arm off of my leg and bringing her into his lap. Her eyes were closed as she mumbled something that could have been passed off as a good night to me, causing me to chuckle lightly as I leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Goodnight, love." Harry said, running his fingers through her hair as he kissed the top of her head.

She sighed softly, leaning into his touch as she rested her head onto his chest. My heart warmed at the sight, but only to be replaced with a tightness in my chest of knowing that she will never see him again. A part of me had felt guilty, because she clearly loved Harry and he adored just as much, but after tonight they would probably never see each other again.

I kept having to remind myself that Harry was doing all of this to be nice, to simply fill his time as he waited for his flight. Because he made it clear to me how excited he was to go back home, how much he had missed it. How by this time next year he had been hoping to already be settled back in his roots, living happily in England.

Becca came to gather Mae from his arms, only for Harry to stand up with the sleeping girl still cuddled into his chest.

"Thank you Harry," she said in relief. "I'm sorry she was so attached to you, but thank you for being so kind to her."

"I promise it's not a problem at all," he said, taking one of his arms off of Mae to give her a hug. "She's darling, it was wonderful to meet you both."

"Still," she said, her eyes tired as she tried to fight back the tears. "Mae isn't normally like this, it takes her a while to warm up to new people. And you welcomed her with open arms. These past few years have been tough on her so, just thank you. It really means a lot."

Harry gave her another hug, sending a kiss to her cheek as he smiled. "I loved every minute of it, she is an amazing kid. You did a wonderful job."

"Stop being so sweet," she teased, wiping the tears away from her face. "You're making me cry."

Harry simply laughed as he shook his head, the sound leaving his lips sending a smile to my face as I walked over towards my father who was already watching the two. He looked over at me, picking up the one mug on the tray with a cinnamon straw.

"You remembered," I said smiling, my face lighting up as I looked up at my father.

"Of course I did," he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "It was only your one request since you were a child."

I turned back to look over at Harry and Becca, both of them in a deep conversation with Mae still sound asleep in Harry's arms. He was running his arm up and down her back, nodding his head at something Becca had told him as he smiled.

"Is he staying here tonight," my dad asked.

"No," I told him, trying to hide the pain in my voice. "He is going back to England tonight, spending the rest of the holidays with his family."

"You're not going with him," he questioned, unwrapping his arm from my shoulder as I shook my head.

"Maybe next time," I lied, because apparently that is all I do now.

~

Harry and I were the only ones left in the living room at 1:32 that morning. Both of us lying on the couch, seeming as though neither of us wanted to be first to let go.

I told him I would stay awake until it was time for him to leave, and now was that time. But still, with his arm wrapped around my shoulder with my head laying on his chest... I found myself desperately wanting him to stay.

We had been watching Friends, the network on the tv doing a marathon of all their Christmas episodes. The hot chocolate my father had given us long gone along with him. Claiming that he needed to work in the morning, so once Mae was asleep and he said goodnight to Becca, he was on his way. Our goodbye was a simple one because we would see each other again before I left back to California.

Harry had fallen asleep beside me, but the alarm on his phone going off signaled to us that it was time for him to leave. And it seemed as though my heart was breaking as he opened his tired eyes.

"Hey," he mumbled, tightening his grip around my body as he pulled me close.

"Morning," I laughed, finding myself melting into his touch that I knew I would be missing.

"I should probably go," he whispered, running his fingers through my hair as I nodded.

"Yeah," I said, finding my hand placed onto his chest as I sat up. "You're going to miss your flight."

I stood from the couch slowly, feeling his hand slip into mine as he followed my actions. He had taken his shoes off before dinner, placing them by the front door along with his bags he had taken from my room when he carried Mae to bed.

He put on his coat, tugging his boots onto his feet as waited for me to put on my jacket. I turned the handle of the door slowly, standing on the front porch as he gathered his luggage before stepping out beside me and closing the door behind him. His eyes met mine, a part of me wondering if he was going to think of me the way I knew I was going to think of him.

Whether I wanted to or not, I was never going to forget Harry Styles. But then again I don't think anyone ever could because it was impossible to forget the greenest eyes known to man or the prettiest curls that never suited anyone better than him. They couldn't forget about his smile. His two front teeth slightly bigger than the ones around them, his heart shaped lips that turned upward when he grinned or the dimples engraved in his cheeks that made me weak. No one could forget Harry Styles... because perfection is never forgotten.

He went to say something but before he got the chance, I thanked him for everything he did for me today.

"You don't have to thank me, pretty girl," he said, a lopsided smile falling onto his face as he stepped towards me. "If anything I should be thanking you."

"For what?" I asked, finding my eyes dart to his lips.

"Because this is one of the best days I've ever had, and it's all because of you."

For some reason, hearing those words almost brought tears to my eyes. He shouldn't be saying those things. He was going to go off and become the greatest force to be reckoned with. He was going to do everything he ever wanted and forget all about me. While I fall far behind and try to feel alive again.

He stepped impossibly closer to me, his hand reaching out to touch my cheek as he dragged his thumb against the skin. I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch as I tried my hardest not to break. His hand stayed there for what felt like forever, neither of us moving, the only thing to be heard was the sound of scattered breathing as we both put off saying goodbye.

When I finally opened my eyes again, I was met with the green that instantly pulled me in. Even at the airport, I couldn't pull away from his capturing stare as he looked into mine longingly. He stepped towards me once more, slowly leaning down with his hand still on my cheek.

His lips were inches away from mine, ghosting over my mouth before I turned away.

"We can't, Harry," I whispered, knowing in my heart this was going to hurt more than anything.

"Why?" He begged, placing his forehead on mine.

"Because this wasn't a part of the plan," I said, stepping away from him as I tried not to cry. "I shouldn't be feeling like this, we shouldn't be feeling like this."

"Don't do this Rowan," he said, taking his hand away from my face and locking his fingers with mine. "Fuck the plan, okay?"

"You're going back to England," I explained, not wanting to hold him back from all of the things he was destined to do. "It isn't fair of you to throw it all away for me. We've known each other for one day, Harry. Don't let our lies keep you from everything you want."

"It was never a lie," he said, dropping our hands as he shook his head. "Every single word I have said since the moment I met you has been the truth. The way I feel about you isn't a lie, Ro. It never will be."

"It doesn't matter," I told him, tears rushing to my eyes. "You're going to go to England, you're going to meet someone and have a family of your own. You will forget all about me and our little game we played tonight. And that's okay, because that's exactly how it was supposed to go. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Is that what you want," he asked, his voice sounding of hurt as he parted his lips. "To let me walk away without even giving us a chance?"

"It's not that simple Harry," I tried to explain but his voice cut me off.

"But it can be," he said. "Tell me to stay and I will."

"You can't Harry," I sighed. "It's not fair to you, your family needs you right now. It's selfish of me to want you to stay."

"I'm the selfish one Rowan," he told me, stepping closer as he placed his hand back onto my cheek. "I selfishly wanted to come here today because I didn't want to say goodbye to you. And I selfishly want you to tell me to stay, because I can't do it if you don't."

Hours ago we stood in this same way. My hand reaching for the handle as Harry stood beside me. Hours ago I was giving him an out, telling him that he didn't have to do this. But really it was for me, because I knew that having him walk away then would have been much easier than watching him walk away now.

"Goodbye, Harry," I said, pulling my face away from his hands as I walked towards the door.

"Then you were right," he said, causing me to turn around as tears fell down my cheeks. "I should have just walked away and pretended none of this ever happened... it would've been a hell of a lot easier than this."

And with that he turned his body on the porch, grabbed his luggage as I watched him walk away for this last time.

I rushed inside of the house, my knees giving out from underneath me. I pushed my back against the door, falling to the ground as I tucked my knees to my chest and cried harder than I had in years.

Knowing that there wasn't a doubt in my mind I should have begged him to stay... that I was going to regret it for the rest of my life.

~

I couldn't sleep, no matter how hard I tried or how tired I was, every time I closed my eyes all I saw was the hurt I had caused him.

But I told myself it was better this way, because now there was nothing holding him back from becoming everything he was bound to be. He was going to do great things, and maybe one day I'll be sitting at my desk, trying to write my book and I'll see his name on my computer.

He would be this great publisher, editor and chief of his own company. He would change the lives of so many people, giving them the opportunity of a lifetime. Allowing them to pour their heart and soul on to sheets of paper the way I had.

But he would do it all in England.

Maybe one day he'll be out with his family, standing in the bookstore supporting someone's publishing. Maybe his eyes will scan the shelves and stop when they see my name. Maybe he'll smile, knowing that he believed in me. That he knew I could do it.

He should be on his flight by now, going home for the first time in years. He was probably asleep, tired from spending the night entertaining Mae.

Or maybe he was awake... staring longingly in the seat besides his... wishing I had begged him to stay too.

But it didn't matter.

Because he was better off without me. I still haven't grieved the loss of my brother, I was kidding myself for even pretending that I was okay. I couldn't do that Harry. I couldn't drag him down just before he is about to be great.

So, with tired eyes I sat up on my bed. I threw on my slippers, making my way to the door as I walked down the stairs and to the kitchen. I grabbed myself a glass of wine and sat on the couch, taking in everything that happened that night.

I was about to start crying again, until I heard the sound of someone coming down the stairs. I turned my head to the right, seeing Becca standing at the bottom step.

"Hey," she said softly. "Why are you still awake?"

The same way that my brother had a protective instinct over me... so did Becca. When Pat died my mother's behavior towards me got worse, our relationship taking a turn that I never saw coming. But Becca was there for me. She let me stay in their home, sleep in their guest room, and eat their food. She was the first person to visit me out in California. My father watched Mae for three days and I had never been so happy. Becca was my best friend, the one person that knew everything about me.

"Did Harry leave, already?"

His name was what sent me into a puddle of tears, Becca's face changed into one of concern as she wrapped her arms around me. She rocked us back and forth slightly, letting my tears soak her shirt as I cried. She held me until I was ready to speak, wiping the tears from my eyes as I spoke.

"He's gone," I whispered. "He's gone forever and he's never coming back. All because of me."

"What happened, Ro?" She asked softly. "Of course he's coming back, the boy is crazy about you."

I sighed softly, feeling even more like an idiot than ever before as a dry chuckle left my lips. "He couldn't be crazy about me, Bec. I met him at the fucking airport this morning."

"What?" She asked, her jaw dropped before she stopped me. "Okay, no. Hang on. I'm gonna need alcohol for this."

She stood up quickly, going to the kitchen to pour herself her glass of wine. She moved fast, rushing towards the couch as she took a long sip out of her glass. "Okay," she assured. "Now what the hell do you just say?"

She looked at me with confusion and for the first time I told someone the world wind of events that happened today. From seeing Harry at the terminal, to standing on our front porch just hours ago and everything in between.

She listened with wide eyes, holding in her laughter when I told her about how he rushed out of the airport to find me. She held me when I told her about what happened on the porch, shushing me softly as I began to cry again. She pulled apart from me, placing her hands on my shoulders as she shook her head at me.

"You know I love you, right?" She asked, causing me to laugh softly as I nod my head. "Then you know I mean this in the kindest way when I say that you are an idiot, Rowan Kelly."

"No I'm not," I defended, rolling my eyes playfully. "You heard what I told you right? Harry is moving back to England, Becca. It was stupid of us to ever think that something could happen."

"He cares about you, Rowan. He made it pretty obvious tonight," she said.

"But it was all an act," I told her. "He was doing it because we had a deal. He would pretend to be my boyfriend for the night and that was that. He wouldn't act like he hated me in front of you guys, would he?"

Her phone had been sitting beside us on the couch, so she picked it up, scrolled through for a moment before she turned back to me. "This isn't an act."

She placed the phone in front of my face to show a picture of the two of us. It was the one from when I was sitting in his lap, a smile on his face as he stared down at me with my head in his chest. His arm was wrapped around me, the other on the side of my head. We looked happy. I was genuinely happy for the first time in years.

"Do you like him," she asked, giving me a pointed look as I nodded my head. "And we both know he likes you," she said, another look thrown my way. "Then the rest shouldn't matter. Everything will be alright in the end if you guys have each other."

"But—"

"No buts," she laughed. "Rowan, that boy came with you tonight to meet your family because he liked you. He was man enough to go after what he wanted and nothing was going to stop him. Hell, he stuck up to your mother, no one ever does that. He cares about you honey, and I know for a fact he isn't happy with how everything went down."

"It was pretty nice to see the look on her face," I smiled, thinking about Harry at dinner.

"I would pay for that kind of entertainment again," she laughed quietly.

"But it doesn't matter anyway," I sighed, taking a sip of my wine as I shrugged my shoulders. "He's gone."

She looked at me with sadness, I know she hated to see me like this. So I decided to change the subject, "What's going on with you, we didn't even get much of a chance to talk tonight. I've missed you!"

"There is something that I've been meaning to tell you," she trailed off, almost as if she was scared of what I was going to say.

"What is it," I asked, wanting her to know that I was going to be there for whatever she wanted to tell me.

"I met someone."

I was definitely not expecting that.

I was taken aback by her confession, because although it did occur to me that Becca would move on one day, I didn't think that it would be so hard to hear. That my brother was simply going to be a memory for her. But then I remembered how hard it was for her to lose him. He was her everything and she loved him more than I have ever seen someone love another. Before Patrick got sick, it was hard to even picture them not together. They have been attached at the hip since they were 18 years old. He changed when she came into his life, he was more caring than ever before, he was overall a better man because of her. She was the angel Patrick never knew he needed, and now he was going to hers. Smiling down at her knowing that she was okay.

"But I'm so fucking scared, Rowan," she confessed, my heart breaking as I saw the tears in her eyes.

"Why?" I asked, reaching out to grab her hand in reassurance.

She wiped away the tears that were in her eyes, "Because I feel like I'm betraying him. He was the love of my life, and I'm scared that if I let someone else in then it's like he was never there at all. I can't do that to him."

"Listen to me Bec," I said softly. "He wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, you can't hate yourself for moving on. For trying to be happy after everything you've been through."

"I don't want him to think that I've forgotten him," the pain in her voice made my chest tighten.

"You haven't," I promised. "And you never will. You have the most beautiful little girl that is half of him. You have 10 years of memories together that will last you a lifetime. You're not forgetting him, Becca. Moving on is a good thing, that doesn't mean he wasn't there at all. Because he's still with you, he's in Mae. And that little girl is every bit of her father. She has his eyes, his hair, his eyes but most of all... she has his heart of gold. And we both know he would be mad if you didn't give yourself a chance to love again."

"I'll never love anyone the way I loved Patrick," she said, squeezing my hand. "He was my soul mate."

"I know," I told her. "And he knew it too. Do you have any idea how many times he would call me just to tell me how much he loved you? That he was sure he was dreaming because there was no way someone like you could ever be with someone like him? He would want you to be happy, no matter what."

"I miss him," she whispered. "Every day I wake up and still expect him to be asleep next to me. Or that when I come home from work he is going to be in the living room watching tv. Or in the kitchen making that god awful meatloaf that he just couldn't get right."

We laughed at the last part because while my brother was many things... a good cook was definitely not one of them.

"I miss him too, but we have the good times to remember," I told her. "And we have each other. No matter what, you've always got me."

"And you'll always have me," she smiled, pulling me in for a hug as I wiped the tears from my eyes.

She pulled apart from me, resting her hands onto my shoulders as she said, "I'm sorry about Harry."

"Me too," I whispered.

She stood from the couch, telling me that it was time for her to head back to sleep because Mae was going to be up early that morning to open her presents. She asked me if I was going to go upstairs with her, but I simply shook my head, telling her that I would be up there soon.

I was alone on the couch again, my thoughts running through my head. But then I smiled, because I knew in my heart that it was time for Becca to move on. She deserved to be happy.

I was suddenly pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on the door.

It had been around three in the morning, so the fact that someone was out and about at that hour was weird. At first I thought it was just my tired mind playing tricks on me, that there wasn't anyone at the door until I heard it again. I stood from my spot on the couch slowly, feeling a bit frightened as I headed towards the door. The person on the other side stopped knocking completely, making an uneasy feeling flood through my veins as I looked out through the peephole.

My movements stopped entirely and I thought I was going to faint.

His hands were in his pockets, nose red from the cold Chicago air around him. His hair was wild, like he had been running as he let out a shaky breath. He sighed for a moment, before turning around to walk down the stairs.

Only this time I stopped him.

I threw on my shoes as fast as I could, not even bothering to put a jacket on as I opened the door quicker than ever before, watching as he turned from the sidewalk and his green eyes met mine.

"Harry," I whispered, stepping out onto the porch. "What are you— "

"I couldn't leave," he said, making his way up the stairs as he stood in front of me. "Not without doing this."

I was about to open my mouth to speak, but once again I was cut off.

Only this time... with his lips locked on mine.

I pulled him as close as I could, responding to the kiss immediately as he wrapped his arms around my waist. My hands laced around his neck, my fingers finding a home in his hair as he hummed into my mouth. He placed his hand on my cheek, running his tongue along my bottom lip as I granted him access right away. He deepened the kiss slowly, the two of us savoring every moment as he pulled me closer to his chest.

My smile broke the kiss before either of us wanted to pull away. So he simply pecked my lips once more before his forehead fell onto mine.

"I don't want to be just a stranger you sat next to on a flight," he whispered. "I want you, Rowan Kelly. I want you to be mine."

"You do," I said, my voice just as quiet as his.

"More than anything, pretty girl."

"But what about—"

He cut me off again by placing his lips on mine, telling me to shut up in the best way possible.

"We will figure it out," he promised. "But I couldn't get on that plane knowing that there was doubt in your mind about how I feel about you. Because fuck, Rowan. I have never felt this way about anyone before. And it scares me."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, reaching my hand up to his curls. "For not asking you to stay."

"Ask me," he spoke. "Ask me to stay, baby. Please."

"Stay," I whispered so softly, I was almost afraid he didn't hear me.

But he did. The smile on his face was the only indication I needed as he picked me up. He hugged me so tight I was afraid I was going to break, but he held his face into my neck, the small stubble on his chin tickling me as I laughed.

"What about England, your father," I asked, needing to know that he was still going to go... even if we were an us.

"I'm going to go," he said into my neck. "But only if you come with me."

"Tonight?" I asked, pulling away from him as he placed me back onto the ground.

"Not tonight, pretty girl," he laughed as he pecked my lips. "But one day, just promise me one day you'll come with me. And that's all I need to hear."

"Okay," I told him, nodding my head as he smiled. "I will. But come inside, stay with me tonight and we will figure it out in the morning."

"We'll figure it out," he promised me. "But no matter what I'm not going anywhere. I finally have you, and I'm not planning on letting you go anytime soon."

I smiled widely, my cheeks hurting as I joked, "Nothing more, nothing less."

"No," he said, shaking his head as he placed his hands onto my face. "Nothing less, but I want everything with you and more, baby."

I kissed his cheek out of pure happiness, about to walk into the house before he pulled me back by my hand. I spun around quickly, goosebumps rising in my arm when he leaned in, his lips ghosting over mine as he whispered.

"Merry Christmas, pretty girl."

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

With that he placed his lips back onto mine, kissing me with such passion as he opened the door from behind me and led us into the warm air. My arms still wrapped around his neck as he closed the door, placing his hands onto my waist as he smiled into the kiss.

"If I'm dreaming," he whispered against my lips. "Then I never want to wake up."

"Was being just a stranger next to me on a flight really that bad," I joked, arms still wrapped around his neck as he nodded.

"Probably worse than hell," he mused, pecking my lips once more.

"It's not a dream Harry," I promised, watching as he smiled widely.

He took off his coat, running outside to grab his luggage before he pulled me into another hug. His hand held onto mine tightly as we walked up the stairs and into my room, the two of us stumbling to the bed as my head rested on his chest.

He was now sound asleep, the sound of his slight snores echoing through my ears as my head moved with each breath he took. And I couldn't think of anything better. Because now I have the one person who makes me safe, loved and heard back again.

And I would be damned if I ever let him go. 

About the author: Hi everyone! My name is Lizzy and I'm so excited to hear your thoughts on "Nothing More, Nothing Less". I started writing fanfics last year, my most popular one being Strawberries and Cigarettes that is completed with a sequel out called Shades of Blue, but since then I have written a handful of small short stories, along with new full length fics that are still being updated and on my wattpad account now including Some Kind of Wonderful, Headlights on the Highway, and Beating Heart. If you liked my writing style or want to get to know some of my new favorite characters from my other fics, follow my twitter @findyourboatxx for updates on everything regarding my wattpad. I hope to see you all soon, happy reading lovelies