"What?"
Aubry stood at the end of Harry's bed, staring at him as she awaited him to tell her he was joking. Harry wasn't joking. His shoulder brushed against hers as he passed by, "I need to go downstairs."
"Well what am I supposed to do? Just stay locked up here by myself?"
With his hand resting on the door handle, he muttered, "I'll find a way to get you out." He was unsure if he was telling the truth or not, but he had to believe he was. The alternative was not something he even wanted to think about. "It's Saturday, she'll be gone by six to meet with the book club anyway."
"I need to be home before my dad."
"When?"
"Five."
Harry turned the knob, the latch releasing to allow him to swing the door open. "You will be, I promise."
Aubry flopped back on the bed with a huff after Harry left, finding herself with nothing better to do than stare at the ceiling and wait. Harry had been so sure no one would be home for the day when he offered her to stay over for a while, but as she laid there and thought about the repercussions, she wished she'd declined.
The sound of a car door closing outside perked her interest enough to have her moving toward the window to look out, taking a step back when she saw it was Harry's mother in the driveway. Very carefully, she kept watch through the tiniest slit between the blinds to keep herself from being seen, Harry venturing outside to greet her. He had no shoes on as he crossed the pavement, opening up the trunk of the car to grab bags of groceries. Unable to hear the voices, Aubry watched them talk easily as they gathered the bags to bring inside.
Soon they disappeared inside the house and Aubry sat back down on the edge of the bed, feet dangling over the side. Harry's room, she realized, was rather impersonal. He had no pictures of friends, nothing hung on the walls, not even a slight mess on the floor that made the room look lived in. He had nothing more than his bed, a bureau, and a desk. It looks similar to a hotel room, where no one ever stayed more than a few nights. The only sign of life was the rope toy of Winnie's she'd left in the corner.
Bored with nothing else to do, Aubry leaned to Harry's bedside table and pulled open the drawer to see what he had stashed inside. A pen, a bible, and a set of spare earbuds that looked brand new. She found the box his phone came in, a pad of sticky notes, and most interestingly, his journal.
Brown leather bound, much less worn than her own, her fingers brushed the smooth surface. She remembered how livid she was when he took hers. She could've killed him, and she thought she might've if it hadn't been so obvious he was too chicken to read it. Bravery took over when she snatched it up out of the drawer to take a closer look, not nearly as mindful of privacy and trust as Harry was when she flipped open the cover to peek inside.
He'd written his name on the back of the cover in his unique way of writing, printed letters connected and mushed together to make it hardly legible.
Harry E. Styles
E. She wondered what it could stand for.
The following page was a list, nothing more than tasks he needed to complete. A list of assignments, and another list of chores. The next page was the same thing, and the following one after that. Several pages later, Aubry quickly flipped through the pages to see that there were no real journal entries in the book. Just lists, upon lists, upon lists. Some scattered doodles showed the closer to the end she got, hearts, stars, planets and smiley faces. Scribbled out words, bubble letters, and then she saw her name. Written across the top of a single page, he'd spelled her first name out in bold lettering. She was the subject of that page.
What followed was something she did not expect to see.
It was dated back to when he'd first managed to weasel himself into her life, when he would sit and admire her from afar. She'd known the whole time he spent each minute watching everything she'd done, but what she wasn't aware of was all the things he thought in his head, he wrote down.
Day by day, he added more to the list of the wonderful things he saw in her, starting from back then, to even more recently.
The first page was obviously written when he had an infatuation with her, the list he'd accumulated nothing more than what he could see.
She twirls her hair around her finger when he thinks.
The way she chews on her bottom lip absentmindedly is endearing.
She always uses blue pen here.
She hardly ever looks at me.
Her eyes look blue when she wears blue.
She still doesn't hate me.
She's still beautiful.
As time went on, the words he wrote about her were far more personal. From her fondness of Welches Grape Jelly, to his own fondness of the sound of her laughter. He went from calling her beautiful, to repeatedly assuring himself that he did not deserve her. She was too good, and he was not enough. It was a list of all the reasons he felt how he did about her, and that was too much for her to know.
She closed the journal, leaving the remainder of what it contained a mystery. Aubry's mind ran wild as she placed the journal back where she found it, sliding the drawer shut and glancing around the room. She felt as if she'd crossed a line, one that kept her at a safe enough distance from him to let her run free whenever she chose. Now she held more knowledge about his thoughts and feelings than she'd ever wanted to know, and she regretted it.
Feeling trapped inside his room helped in no way and without a care in the world, she strolled out into the hallway toward the stairs. The familiar voice of Harry echoed off the walls from the first floor, "I promise it won't happen again."
There was a short pause of silence only being broken up by Winnie's paws on the wood flooring as she walked. "I want you to call and talk to Sophie. She's upset and you need to apologize."
"I will," Harry agreed. "It was stupid, she shouldn't have gotten in trouble."
"Well, Harry, you should've thought about that last night. You can't come home with a hickey and expect me not to tell her parents what you two were up to."
Aubry's eyebrows raised as the topic caught her interest. She slid down with her back against the wall to sit at the top of the stairs just out od sight, listening in on the conversation with bated breath. "But dad said -"
"Never mind what he says, it's still not right." The remainder of her point, Aubry had to strain to hear through the running water of the kitchen sink. "I raised you to be a gentleman and I expect you to act like one."
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "Does this mean I can't see her anymore?" Aubry chewed on her lip as she awaited a response, one that didn't come as quickly as she'd hoped. There was clinking of dishes together and a long, drawn out pause as Harry's mother failed to reply. So long, in fact, Harry was unsure if she'd ever answer. "Mom?"
The sound of running water ceased, plunging the home in silence. Aubry subconsciously held her breath, fearing the risk of being heard. "I don't know, Harry. That's something you'd have to speak with her parents about."
She could almost sense the frown on his face without ever having to see it. The tone in his voice as he spoke several moments later gave enough for her to figure out his expression on her own. "Are they mad at me?"
"I'm sure they're not particularly pleased," she answered. "And I know for a fact you'll have to earn your right to take her out for a second time."
Harry didn't speak again after that. Aubry's bare feet slid across the carpet as she stretched her legs out from being held to her chest. The time on the clock hung on the wall was ticking by second by second, nearing closer and closer the time she was expected to be home with each one that passed.
Harry sat staring at the countertop, heart feeling heavy in his chest. Sophie was in trouble for something she had nothing to do with, and it was all his fault. Not only had he hurt her the night before, he'd ruined his chances of getting to apologize too. A simple phone call couldn't make up for all he'd done. She'd never forgive him, that he was sure about.
"Oh, don't make that face," his mother teased. "You look like a lovesick puppy."
"I'm not a lovesick puppy, I just feel bad," he mumbled, finger running over the smooth surface of the granite countertop. A fleck of mica caught the light, shining until his fingertip covered it.
"You'll get to see her again, we have the dinner at the William's this week. She'll be there."
Harry perked up, "What, what? When?"
"Monday night," she replied, disinterested. "How have you forgotten already? I told you yesterday."
"There's no way you told me. I definitely would've remembered that." Dinner at the William's meant dinner with Aubry and Sophie. Oh boy.
With her back turned toward him as she grabbed a bottled water from the fridge, she spoke. "I did tell you, you just never listen to a word I say."
She did not tell him, he was sure she hadn't. Still, he resigned. "I guess so."
"I want you on your best behavior," she reminded. "No fooling around or goofing off, I want you to set a good example to them how a young person should behave. I think they need the reminder."
The jab at Aubry did not go unnoticed, but it wasn't one he commented on. He simply agreed he would behave. "Is dad going?"
"Hopefully." She fiddled with the bottle in her hands, the water sloshing around inside. "Never know for sure with his schedule, but he'll try to be."
Harry nodded, his lips pursed in sadness. "I wish he didn't work so much."
"It's part of the job," she justified. "While he's not here with us, he's at work saving lives. It's meaningful. Plus, that'll be you someday too."
She had a point, but that made him feel even sadder. He wanted a family someday, but he also didn't want to miss out on their lives because he'd be busy working. "Yeah, but don't you ever feel like he doesn't get to be part of the family as much? Like, he misses birthdays and Christmas and he stays overnight a lot. Don't you ever wish he could come home more?"
"Of course." She leaned against the counter to make eye contact with her son. "Like I said, he's needed more there than he is here. We'll be okay while he's gone, there are other people who won't be."
Maybe he was selfish, but he just couldn't bring himself to see it that way. That thought diminished when he heard the front door close, startling him. He immediately thought it to be his father returning from work, but when his mother called out, "Hello?" and there was no reply, he thought not.
Her eyebrows pinched together, "What was that?"
Harry shrugged. "Wind?"
She shook her head, "No, that was the door."
She stepped around the counter to peek her head out of the threshold into the kitchen, apparently seeing nothing as she headed through toward the foyer where the noise came from. Harry promptly slid off the stool at which he sat to follow, stepping in front of her to beat her to the door. He was very much aware of Aubry's presence in the home, and wanted no chance in her being caught there. That is, of course, until he looked out the window and saw her halfway down the street, walking in the direction of home. She had left.
"Anything?" his mother asked from the doorframe.
With a shake of his head, he denied. "No, nothing."
Note to self: Being a doctor is more important than being a dad.
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News update: I got a job so finding time to write is going to be 10x more difficult. Fuck.
I finally updated in a timely manner, are you proud of me????????
Thanks for reading, though, of course. I love you. Marry me.