(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 49 - Watching You From The Stage)
"What's up with your face?" Louis asks the minute he walks into our backstage prep area at the arena in Sheffield.
I lean forward to peer at myself in the mirror, and then catch his reflection's eye. "Nothing. What do you mean?"
He comes to stand next to me, and pretends to inspect me closely. "Hmm. Bright eyes. Dopey grin. Smug expression. You back together with Jess?"
I shove his arm as Niall cracks up laughing. "Fuck off. No I'm not. Not yet."
"But...?" he grins, waving his hand to encourage me to elaborate.
"But... things are improving by the day," I can't help grinning, and he grins back and high-fives me.
"I knew it! Nice one, mate. Made up for you."
"Thanks," I beam. "But it's not cut and dried yet. We've talked a lot of stuff through, but we haven't talked about where we want this to go yet. That's still sort of up in the air."
Louis snorts and rolls his eyes at Niall. "Talk," he scoffs. "You need to fuck, boy. Jesus Christ. She must be gagging for it by now."
I ignore this comment, and Niall's wicked laughter, and try to stop my mouth from grinning stupidly every time I think about Jess. I catch my reflection a couple of times in the mirror again, and Louis is right - I am wearing a dopey grin. And it's plain embarrassing.
The boys' abuse continues right up until the moment we walk into the backstage lounge where Mum, Robin, Gemma and Jess are waiting for us. I watch as Louis greets my entire family with a hug, and immediately strikes up a conversation with Jess about Briana and the baby. It's actually a relief to be relaxed about their friendship now, instead of watching them through narrowed eyes filled with jealousy.
I slip across the room and join Jess, poking her cheek a couple of times to remind her I am here, and she flirts back until Louis tells us bluntly to get a room and Liam joins the conversation.
People are arriving constantly, and I watch as Jess becomes more and more nervous, greeting Louis' family one by one and blushing a gentle of shade of pink. I know she is fangirling inside, and I love her even more for it. When my dad steps into the room, followed by my Uncle Mike, Auntie Dee and my cousins Matty, Ella and Ben, I see her reach for a glass of Prosecco and take a deep swig while Gemma says something in her ear.
"Don't be getting pissed before the show has even begun," I tease in her other ear.
"It's just a bit of Dutch courage," she murmurs back, and I can hear a tremor of nerves in her tone.
"What are you looking so uptight about?" Louis asks from next to Jess, as she bites her nails.
"Nothing," she replies, staring across the room at my family slowly approaching.
"Don't lie," he sasses. "You're so wound up you look ready to snap. What's up?"
"Meeting Harry's family," she mutters around the finger in her mouth.
"Oh. Is that all?" he teases, rolling his eyes. "Fucking hell, you're a right stressy one, aren't you? You need a good fuck to sort you out."
I watch Jess' gaze snap from my family to Louis' face, and before I can even think up a retort to shut him down, she comes back with her own: "You offering, Louis?"
He chuckles, and I grin to myself. She's got him so sussed. The best way to handle his cockiness is to call him out on it to his face. And he secretly loves it.
"I'm sure Harold's got it covered," he smiles mischievously, and as he turns away I shove him in the back and he laughs to himself as he disappears out of sight.
Jess is looking at me with her eyebrows raised, and I feel myself breaking into a guilty smile.
"What?" I ask, feigning innocence.
"'What?'" she mimics, adopting my facial expression far too well. "That comment from Louis?"
I clear my throat, deeply wishing I could wipe this idiotic smile from my face, but I have a nasty feeling it is here for the duration. I can only hope it disappears before the start of the show.
"He's just been his usual crude self about us these last few weeks," I explain, as she rolls her eyes tolerantly. "I'm sure you can imagine."
"Say no more," she declares, and over her shoulder I catch my dad's eye across the room. Looks like it's crunch time.
"So... do you want to come over and meet my dad?" I ask, a little awkwardly.
"Um, yeah OK," I says, a little too brightly, and I know she is bricking it. I remember the feeling only too well, when I turned up at her house in Cambridge after her entire family had been told I was sleeping with Taylor Swift behind her back. Good times.
She follows me through the crowd, and my dad beams as we approach, throwing his arms round me in a hug before turning to Jess and extending his hand.
"Jess! Lovely to meet you, finally!" he says, a little too loud, and I can tell he is a nervous too. I guess he wants to make a good impression on her, just as much as she wants to make a good impression on him.
"Hi, Mr Styles," she says shyly, and he shakes her hand enthusiastically.
"Call me Des!" he insists, and she giggles nervously and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "So, last show of the tour, H! You excited? Relieved? Sad?"
"Excited, tired, nostalgic, proud... too many emotions," I answer, smiling at Jess as she looks up at me with those beautiful eyes that sparkle under the lights. "I've still got commitments for another few weeks. I'm looking forward to Christmas, to be honest. I can't wait to relax properly."
I have a sudden image of sitting on the sofa at my mum's house, the fire blazing, the Christmas lights on and a glass of red wine in my hand and Jess snuggled in the crook of my arm. I feel a stab of longing and wonder if this will ever happen, and if we will be back together by Christmas. I daren't hope too much, so I push the thought to the back of my mind while we chat to my dad until it is time for everyone to take their seats in the arena and for us to go on stage.
I lean to Jess for a hug and turn my head to sneak a quick peck on her cheek, but I misjudge her position and my lips land half on her mouth. My stomach performs a slow roll and my dick tingles as I pull away nervously and look down at her, unsure how she will react to this genuine accident. Her eyes blaze into mine as a current of electricity flows between us. It's a good job we're in a crowded room, because I swear to fucking god if she had given me that look while we were alone I would have pushed her against the wall and fucked her into next week. A sultry smile plays at the corners of her mouth, and I return the look, letting my gaze linger as I follow the others out of the room.
"Do you need glasses, Harold?" Louis asks once we are out of earshot of our families.
"What - no, why?"
"You seemed to be squinting back there."
He is side-eyeing me, and next to him Niall throws his head back and laughs.
"He was giving Jess a sultry look - or trying to," Niall explains.
"Sultry? More like short-sighted," Louis retorts.
"Fuck off," I smile tolerantly.
"Yeah come on, did you see the look she was giving him?" Niall counters. "They were fuck-me eyes, if ever I saw them."
"Do you think?" I ask Niall seriously, and it is Louis' turn to laugh.
"Harry - have some fucking chill."
"I haven't heard that one in a while," Niall chuckles as we get our earpieces fitted by the sound crew and grab our microphones.
"Remember when Zayn has no chill was trending on Twitter?" Louis grins. "I might start a new hashtag: Harry has no chill."
"Don't you fucking dare," I hiss as we huddle up for the last time ever on this tour.
"Lads," Liam says softly, and we all shut up and glance at each other soberly.
For a few seconds we say nothing, bowing our heads with our arms around each other as we always do in our usual pre-show ritual.
"It's been a journey," Liam begins, breaking the silence between us, amidst the noise that can be heard from the fans less than twenty feet away, the other side of the stage. "And I'm really honoured I got to share it with the four of you."
I wait for Louis to correct him pointedly from 'four' to 'three', but he doesn't. I lift my head and look at the others who are nodding their assent. "I second that," I reply. "It's been a crazy year. Thanks for always having my back, even when I didn't always deserve it."
"We're in this together," Louis interjects. "We'll always have each other's backs. That will never change."
"We're family," Niall adds, putting his fist in the middle of the circle where it is joined by mine, Louis' and Liam's.
"One, two, three, go!" we all chant together, raising our hands into the air (Niall slings his guitar over his head), taking our positions behind the screen and waiting for the lights to cut; plunging the arena into darkness as the intro plays and we prepare to burst forth onto the stage to the beginning notes of Clouds.
I have never heard noise like this before - even from a stadium show. I can barely hear myself think over the screaming in the arena, and I have to concentrate hard not to miss my cue as I fling myself around the stage hyping the crowd up further and blowing kisses with both hands. I scan the VIP section and it takes me mere seconds to locate Jess. She is jumping up and down next to Gemma, her hair (and other parts of her) bouncing joyfully, screaming her head off. I give a tiny wave and a smile and she beams at me, sunshine radiating from her entire being and almost knocking the breath out of me right before I have to sing my first line.
The entire show is one long adrenaline rush. I am high on life, drunk on anticipation and tripping on the intensity of my own feelings. I waver between revelling in the moment; standing still every so often to take stock of everything I have achieved and staring around me in wonder, and watching Jess intently as she enjoys our last concert, simply as a One Direction fan. I feed off her enthusiasm and her energy, and every time I see her singing along or screaming in excitement, or hugging Mum or Gemma, I feel a wave of euphoria and elation. Our songs somehow sound even better when I know she is enjoying them too.
I catch her watching Niall's crotch grab in Better Than Words, and I note that her gaze flits between me and Louis during No Control which I know to be one of her all time favourites. Little White Lies is always fun for me, but with Jess in the room it is even more sexually charged than usual. As I am prancing around on the B Stage I let my mind wander back to the night we met, and the awkward cup of tea back at my house when I really wanted to make a move on her but wasn't sure if she was up for it. Looking back now I really don't know how or why she agreed even to leave the house party with me, when I was clearly a bumbling idiot with no idea how to chat up girls. I am officially the luckiest bloke in the whole world to have this beautiful, funny, strong, clever girl at my side. And I will never forget that, as long as I live. I watch her watching me, unable to hide my smirk as I know she is thinking of that night too, and of course Louis is onto our silent communication and throws a few of his own smirks our way.
I am nervous to sing Perfect, as it will be the only time Jess hears live the song that was written and released for her, and as Louis takes his place at the mic and sings his lines, I sing along away from my own mic but looking at Jess every few seconds, smiling to myself as the lyrics tell the story of our relationship, from Calvin's mocking comments to the moment I first laid eyes on the girl of my dreams; the love of my life.
I'm sure my voice trembles as I sing the chorus - the force of my heart pounding in my chest is enough to make my whole body shake, and when I open my eyes to look at Jess for the millionth time tonight she is gazing up at me, her expression open and pure, her eyes never leaving mine. I give her a shy smile as I sing the last line So let's start right now, I deliver it with as much meaning and conviction as I can. Because I want more than anything to start over and prove I can be the Harry she first fell in love with, and more and more I am daring to hope that she might finally be ready to trust me again.
She is here, among the people I love most in the world, cheering for me and supporting me, and doing the conga and dancing to Act My Age four times, and enveloped in my mum's arms as part of my family, with tears pouring down her cheeks as we take our final bow of the tour and run backstage to exit the arena before the fans.
"Let me know how it goes," Louis mutters as we have a hurried group hug by the crew entrance and then scatter to our individual cars that will take us home.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and send Jess a text.
Did you enjoy the show? xx
It is a short while before it is delivered, but then less than a minute later a reply arrives with a satisfying beep.
I LOVED IT. It was amazing. Thank you for inviting me xxx
Three kisses. This is amazing.
Wouldn't have let you miss it for the world xxxx, I type back. And then I quickly send another one straight after: I can't wait to see you when we get back xxxx
Yes, I know, no fucking chill.
I can't wait to see you either xxxx
Well would you look at that - four kisses! It's a good job I'm on my own in the back of this car so no one can take the piss out of me for the dopey grin that is back on my face.
As soon as I arrive home (I am the first one there) I run straight upstairs, pull my sweaty clothes off and jump into the shower. I contemplate knocking one off at the fantasy of a possible reconciliation with Jess tonight, and then decide it is too risky as they could arrive back at any moment, and ignore the hard-on that will not go away no matter how much I try to think of non-sexual things. I towel myself off and blast my hair with a hairdryer, and just as I am pulling on a clean black shirt I hear the sound of a car in the driveway and doors slamming. I hastily pull on a pair of black skinny jeans and shove my feet back into my gold boots and make my way down the stairs just as Jess and Gemma are coming in the front door.
"Hey," I grin. "You timed that well. I just got out of the shower."
Gemma pulls a face and walks straight through to the kitchen as Jess replies, "Or I timed it badly, depending on which way you look at it."
I raise one eyebrow theatrically at her, and notice a blush creeping up her cheeks.
"Are you flirting with me, Miss Bradshaw?" I murmur in delight.
"Not me, Mr Styles," she says, with a trace of innocence that instantly wakes up my dick again.
"Are you coming through?" Mum interrupts, and we look over to see her standing in the kitchen doorway holding out a drink for each of us. I really want to finish our discussion from earlier, and get to the bottom of Jess's motive for moving on (my meeting with Georgia?), but even as I am forming this thought the doorbell rings, signalling the arrival of some of my family and the start of the end of tour party. I resign myself to the fact I will be sleeping alone tonight, and grin at Jess as my Aunt and Uncle and cousins clatter noisily into the kitchen.
Mum introduces Jess to them all, and my cousin Matty introduces Jess to his girlfriend who also happens to be a One Direction fan. I watch the two of them chatting animatedly, trying to stop the dopey grin from creeping across my face again, and can't help myself from shifting my position ever so slightly, so that my hand accidentally on purpose brushes against hers. She doesn't pull away but her cheeks turn pink and she is suddenly very engrossed in what my Uncle Mike is now saying to her.
I brush my pinkie against hers again, relishing the goosebumps that race up my arm, and if I shift slightly closer again I can smell her shampoo. Damn I want to kiss this girl.
"So are you Harry's girlfriend then?" Mike asks loudly, and Jess clears her throat, pulling her arm away from mine.
"Uhmmm..."
She is floundering, so I step in as smoothly as I can.
"No," I answer, my stupid grin giving me away and no doubt inviting Mike's next question:
"Oh really? Why's that then?"
He is grinning knowingly, as Jess flounders further, and I offer a noncommittal, "It's complicated."
"Doesn't look complicated to me," he winks as my Aunty Dee arrives at his side and he puts his arm around her.
"I hope you're not telling your ridiculous jokes," Dee scolds him, and he chuckles innocently.
"Harry appreciates what I'm saying, I'm sure," he smiles, and Jess takes a large sip of her wine, her hand trembling slightly.
I try to give her a bit of space over the next half hour or so, but I can feel her eyes on me as I'm chatting with my family and I start to feel nervous. I can sense a shift in the atmosphere, and the previous sexual tension seems to have dissipated, replaced by... just tension. Eventually Jess excuses herself to the bathroom and Mum appears next to me and enlists my help in carrying a couple of boxes of white wine from the garage to the kitchen. When I return Jess is nowhere to be seen, and after a quick circuit of the downstairs I head outside to find her standing on the patio alone, staring into the velvety black night.
She turns and smiles at me, hunching her shoulders in a nervous gesture as I close the back door on the noise from the kitchen, so the only sound to be heard is a dim hum of laughter and the wind in the trees surrounding the lawn.
"You OK?" I ask softly.
"Yeah, just taking a breather. I was getting a bit hot in there."
I nod, shoving my hands into my pockets to stop myself from reaching out to touch her. I watch her gazing into the distance, and her stance reminds me of the night we met, when I came outside to find her behind the trellis with her back to the house, thinking.
"This reminds me of the night we met," I smile, and she turns and beams at me.
"I was just thinking the exact same thing!"
"Really?" The dopey grin is back. Again. Perhaps it never left.
"Good thing I wasn't holding a drink," she chuckles, and I smirk at the memory of the ruined shirt thanks to the two drinks she tipped over me. Then a thought occurs to me.
"Was it really an accident?" I ask. "All those times you spilt your drink on me?"
She pulls a look of utter disblief.
"Of course it was! You don't think I am that obvious, do you? This isn't a fanfiction."
A-HA! A fanfiction! I have been waiting for the opportunity to bring this up ever since she threw the insult about not being my Tessa and never taking me back. (For the record, I have never read the book that was written about me that became famous, but you do hear about these things on the grapevine.)
Her face is slowly turning tomato-red, and I give her an exaggeratedly confused look before asking, "What's a fanfiction, Jess?"
She refuses to meet my gaze, but swallows hard. "No idea."
"Hmm," I nod, fighting my grin but of course losing. "What does the name 'Anna Todd' mean to you?" I ask, oh-so-casually, and her eye twitches.
"I have no idea what you are even talking about," she says loudly and robotically, still staring across the garden, and I laugh at her discomfort and embarrassment. I sort of wish I could push this topic further, because it would be such fun to torment her, but I know there is the more important matter of us to resolve first.
"OK. If you say so," I concede. "Come on, let's walk up to the seat at the end of the garden and back. Your face looks a bit flushed," I can't help adding. "The fresh air will help cool you down."
I laugh silently as she flusters behind me, following me across the lawn to the back fence, overlooking the fields and hedgerows behind.
"This really is a lovely place," she says wistfully. "You're so lucky to live somewhere so beautiful."
"Thanks," I smile softly. "It means everything to me that you're here too."
She looks up at me, smiling affectionately, and I pull her into the crook of one arm, inhaling discreetly as my nose comes close to her hair. The familiarity of the embrace is almost painful. I can't express how much I want things back to the way they were. But I have to make sure she is doing this for the right reasons before I go jumping back in feet first.
"Jess..," I begin nervously, "I really need to ask you something."
"OK," she says slowly, looking up at me with uncertainty. "Is this what you were going to say earlier, before you left for Sheffield?"
"Yeah."
I pause, pulling my thoughts together.
"I need you to answer me honestly," I implore her. "No matter how you think I will react. I need you to be honest."
"OK," she says, her brow furrowed and her eyes worried.
"Why do you trust me again?" I murmur. "What made you decide you were ready to talk?"
She blinks in surprise. "I suppose it's the old cliché - time heals," she frowns. "I'm not really sure what you mean..?"
Ugh. I'm going to have to ask her outright. The last thing I want to do is bring Georgia's name up right now, but if we're going to try and start again, we have to get past this. Or rather, I have to get past it.
I shove my hands back in my pockets and incline my head for her to follow me as I begin walking slowly around the frosty lawn in the direction of the house.
"So it had nothing to do with Georgia Fowler?" I ask slowly.
"Georgia Fowler?" she repeats in confusion. "You've completely lost me, Harry."
"It just seemed like as soon as you thought I was off limits you wanted me again," I mutter, unable to meet her gaze as I reveal these innermost insecurities.
She stops in her tracks beside me and I turn to her to see her staring at me in utter disbelief.
"What?" she asks.
I shrug awkwardly, staring down at the leaves littering the cold, crunchy grass. "I dunno. I came back from Somerset the day it happened and all of a sudden you were ready to sort things out. It just made me think that it was only because you thought I had moved on, and you didn't like it... I dunno," I mutter again, aware of how petty this sounds, and reminding myself that I promised I would always be honest, and I am fulfilling that promise now, albeit at the expense of my pride, and my chill.
Actually, forget that. I can picture Louis' face already: What chill?!
I resume my pace again, uneasy at Jess's silence and wondering if she is about to admit that this was indeed her motive all along.
"Harry," she begins, catching my arm to stop me, and forcing me to turn and look into her eyes. I would do anything for those eyes.
She seems to be searching for the words to say - to let me down gently perhaps? I can't bear this thought.
"Harry," she begins again, a moment later. "I realised I wanted to sort things out last time we were here at your mum's, before the Manchester show. When we were on the sofa, and you were... you were kissing my stomach..." (My dick tingles again at the memory of her soft skin.) "And then when you left, and we were saying goodbye..." Her words are barely making sense; unfinished sentences that seem to be tumbling out of her mouth before they are fully formed. "I just wanted to grab you and kiss you and tell you I wanted you back," she continues. "But you seemed to cool off, suddenly-"
I remember. I remember panicking because I had crossed a line and I was terrified I had pushed her for more than she was ready to give, and that I had ruined things for good. I was afraid she was about to end things for the last time.
"I was afraid I'd pushed you too far, too quickly," I admit, meeting her gaze steadily. "I was so scared I'd messed things up. I tried to back off a bit, to let you have some space, like you said you wanted..."
"I know," she says, with a sigh. "I did want that, and I appreciated you listening to me, and doing as I asked."
Did? Did? Past tense?!
"But the truth was, being near you just made me want you," she continues. "But I chickened out of telling you at the time, and then I didn't want to have that conversation over the phone so I kept it to myself, thinking we could talk next time you were home, but then you said you had plans and I didn't want to pester you because I know how stressed you've been and I didn't want to add to the pressure..." She is rambling now, her eyes searching my face. I am struggling to concentrate on anything but her lips, and her confession that she wanted to kiss me, and that she wanted me back. "I should have said something sooner. But believe me, I wanted us to try again long before you met up with Georgia. And I was so upset that day, because I realised I'd left it too late, and you had moved on."
Moved on? Moved on?
I feel myself taking a step towards her, unable to stop my feet from moving, or my hands from trembling as I push my hair back nervously.
"I haven't moved on," I murmur.
"I haven't either," she whispers back.
"I tried." I take another step towards her.
"I tried too." We are inches apart now, and I can feel the heat emanating from her small body; my only light in the dark night. She is trembling. I am trembling. She wants me for me, not because of Georgia. I want her because... well because since the moment we met there has never been anyone else for me. There never has been, and there never will be.
Her hands gently cup my waist, her eyes find mine in the moonlight.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I love you too," she whispers back.
"Will you be mine again?" I murmur.
"Yes."
She answers before I have even finished asking.
She closes her eyes slowly as I lean down to kiss her. Her lips are soft, her taste familiar. She feels the same in my arms as she always did.
She is home. She is my home. And all is right in the world.
---***---
Hello again! It's been rather a while since I updated Trace and I've had this chapter half written for weeks. I do enjoy coming back to Harry and Jess with Harry's POV, and I hope you do too! Thanks for reading xx