70.
●•Scarlett•●
I felt home, is the thing. Not the kind of home I shared with Tyler, but the kind of home I used to have when I was young and naïve and just not compared to every human being who owned my own blood type. It felt natural, calm, relaxed and stress-free, something unique; something I’d been lacking for a while.
And well, Harry seemed to be the only one to bring back that side of me, the one that allowed me to be myself and get rid of a bit of the weight I’ve been holding on my shoulders. With him I felt like I could be stupid, creepy even, just as immature as I’d like, and he wouldn’t judge me, wouldn’t ask me to be something else. He’d just accept whatever I had to give with a huge dimpled smile plastered to his face.
The problem is, even though he’s the one person that makes me feel like the me I buried in the past, he’s also the only one I ought to be careful with; I gave him information about me, therefore I also gave him space to hurt me and disappoint me more than anyone else in my life. Harry’s the only one who knows both sides of my life completely; he doesn’t only have glimpses, he knows exactly what I go through both as Scarlett and Kirsten.
There’s no way I could’ve exposed myself more.
And, honestly, I don’t trust anyone a hundred per cent. There’s no way I can do that, no matter how hard I try. Because I know I’m the rudest person to deal with and my personality is not the most pleasant one could ask for; everything is finite, people’s patience with me is no different.
Plus, no one is fully honest with me, either. Not even Curly, who always speaks his mind without thinking twice. And the reason why I know that is because he hides things I’ve just found out. Almost.
This morning when I woke up and decided to look for one of his jumpers to wear, I ended up finding one that absolutely wasn’t his; far too small and decorated with embroidery that I’d say boys don’t wear. In the kitchen, there was a mug with cute drawings and small hearts, and even though Harry does look like a puppy sometimes, all innocent and stuff, that is certainly not his.
Of course, it’s been through my mind that he might have a teenage sister or something, but then there was this picture at the back of his drawer, along with a ring. It was a picture of a young version of himself, all awkward and with a small tummy poking out of his shirt, kissing a girl that I assume is not his sister, since she’s nothing like him, and, well, they’re kissing. On the lips and everything.
A high school relationship? Most likely. But I hate the thought of maybe still existing something between them, because otherwise, why would he keep a picture of an ugly him from years ago? I don’t think I can deal with committed Harry Styles. The fact that one of us is already engaged into a relationship is just bad enough. It has nothing to do with jealously, from my part, honestly. Because if he’d fooled me all along, that would be the least of my problems.
And that’s basically why I’d mentioned the mug at first place, but his reaction was just indecipherable, so I decided to leave it like that for now. Probably throughout the weeks I would manage to bring the topic back again. I didn’t want to sound pushy or anything.
“What’re you thinking about?” he asked, poking my sides whilst propping his chin on my stomach, shaking his head underneath my fingers so that I could go back to messing with his hair. “You’ve been quiet for a while now.”
“Nothing much, to be honest. Do you have the constant need to hear voices?” I asked teasingly, ruffling his hair gently, being careful not to undo the braids.
Harry and I were both lying on the couch, me being slumped over the armrest meanwhile Harry was completely spread over, most part of his body between my legs, his own hanging off the couch because they’re so f–cking long. The TV was on playing some cheesy movie I quite liked, but was not paying any attention to whatsoever. Mostly because Harry kept making awning noises and right after burying his face on my belly, lifting the shirt so he could kiss it. Yes, he was odd.
He pouted “No. I don’t have any problems with silence, but you’re creepily staring at the wall it’s been a few minutes, and I doubt you even blinked. You sure you’re okay?”
Quietly, I dared to look back at him, the afternoon light making his green irises glow lighter than the usual, and I may or may not have sighed at the sight. How the hell I managed to make a gorgeous and friendly man full of talents fall in love with me, I have no idea. Seriously, I don’t think I deserve a quarter of what he is.
But then again, he might be fooling me around, so.
“I’m perfectly fine, Styles. Just philosophizing about life, I suppose.”
Harry was about to protest – or maybe ask something, I’m not quite sure –, but then the doorbell rang, and he seemed to absolutely freeze. His eyes widened, his hands tightened on my waist and he glanced carefully at me, apparently trying to decipher my reaction. What?
“Um, Scar?” he whispered.
“Yeah?”
“D’you want me to answer the door?” Harry seriously seemed to be having a whole dilemma about the thing.
“I guess that’s what people do. When the doorbell rings, you know?” I mocked him, petting his hair and pushing him forward so he could leave me and go for whoever was waiting to see him. “C’mon, go. Unless you don’t want to see anyone but me,” I suggested then, winking, and he rolled his eyes.
“Although it’s quite true, that’s not what I meant. It’s probably one of my friends at the door, and, I don’t know, maybe you don’t want to see them? Maybe you don’t want to let people know- you know. About us.”
It was my turn to roll eyes, motioning for him to keep going. Hesitating, he did, still looking at me carefully as if I was going to change my decision anytime. It’s not like it was a big deal, anyway. Sure, I don’t want him to go around claiming me as his girlfriend – because I’m not – but it’s not like I need to hide from everyone, either. Lana and Angel? Well, I must be careful about them, ‘cause I don’t want to let them down. But Harry’s friends?
I don’t really mind.
If all of his friends are as stupid as the ones I met decades ago, then I don’t think I’ll really have a problem with them. Their kind is certainly not the kind Tyler would hang out with, or even know, so I wasn’t worried about having my boyfriend finding out about my cheating through one of those twats.
I was snapped out of my thoughts once a voice sounded from the door, nearly screaming: “Why the hell do you have braids in your hair, mate? Decided to come out yet?”
Watching as Harry shook his head, I muffled a laugh, turning to the TV this time and really trying to pay attention. Not that I had to, though, because I was sure I’d watched that movie at least ten times before, when Tyler spent the whole night out and I had nothing better to do if not lie on my carpet and pity my own life.
“F–ck off, Mark,” Harry snapped, resting his weight on the door and staring at the guy outside. “What are you doing here today? Thought you were going out with Dave and the girls?”
“Savanna’s got somewhere to be and I’m not willing to be the third wheel again. But now, seriously, what happened to your hair? It looks awful.”
“Respect!” I yelled from the couch before I could think much further about doing so. Now sh–t was done, so. “It took me a while to get this done with and his hair looks a thousand times better.”
Afterwards, I heard the two of them whispering, Harry struggling to keep the door nearly closed, and a quiffy head peaking through it, staring curiously at me until one of his eyes widened, his mouth hanging open in sheer shock, a glance of disbelief being thrown between me and Harry.
“Wait. That’s-?” he asked Harry, who simply sighed and nodded hesitantly. “Oh my God!” by now, the guy – I recognized as the prat who’d been to the club months before – was already inside the flat, heading toward me and still holding the stupid expression on his face. “Wait, I know you! Harry- this is- oh my God!”
I didn’t even bother to sit straight, just looking at him and grinning as wide as I could.
“So apparently you’ve developed nothing, yeah? Can’t even properly talk, Gez,” I said in a mocking tone, satisfied with the way his eyes widened a bit more, soon fading, being replaced by a grin of his own. He sat down next to me on the couch, feet going straight to the coffee table.
“You know each other?” Harry finally said from the door, closing it abruptly and joining us.
“From the office,” Mark pointed out.
“The club,” I added with a roll of my shoulders, leaning down to grab the bowl with popcorn. “I really can’t understand why you’re still friends with such a pathetic guy, but.”
Pathetic-guy rolled his eyes, breathing out annoyingly. “Seriously, Harry? With so many people in the world you had to choose the most arrogant stripper? I thought you were the smart one of the group, honestly. You set the bar so down for yourself, now.”
“She’s not a stripper!” Harry yelled instead, smacking Mark in the head. “She’s a waitress, you d–ck. And she’s not that arrogant; she just doesn’t like you. I don’t blame her, really. You’re a complete idiot, anyway.”
I actually laughed at that, shoving a handful of popcorn into my mouth and watching amusedly as Mark pointed a threatening finger to Harry, who just batted it off. After that, curly threw himself down on the couch between me and his friend, seeming a lot more relaxed now as he lay back on my lap.
“So, okay. You probably know it already, but… Mark this is Scarlett; Scarlett, Mark.”
Excuse me?!
My eyes widened a whole lot, discretely pulling at Harry’s curls, making him look at me. He raised his eyebrows as if asking what was wrong, and I just stared at him silently, trying to understand why the f–ck he’d done that. He seemed to understand after a moment, blinking quickly, unsure.
“I’d like to say nice to meet you, but you’re not exactly nice, so.” Mark winked at me, his own hands moving to the bowl without asking for permission, trying to act all badass like I’d expected him to. Before I could reply to him, though, Harry intervened.
“Mark, shut it. Um, you, come with me,” and then my hand was being tugged between his huge ones, my body flying off the couch as he dragged me to the kitchen, looking absolutely nervous. His friend was left behind with a frown, but honestly, Harry didn’t seem to care. “Okay. I’m sorry. But you need to understand there was no way I could’ve told him you’re Kirsten.”
My blood started to boil.
“And why not?”
“Because the last time the boys asked me about you, they wanted a name, and I was afraid that if I’d said Kirsten they’d recognize your or something, and try to talk me out of it,” he blurted out, holding my hand tightly, his own starting to sweat with fear.
“Harry, why would they even talk about me if they don’t know me?! You have no right to tell people my name! God, I thought that was obvious when I told you everything?” I pulled my hands away, running them through my hair instead. “Argh, you’re a bloody idiot! I knew I shouldn’t’ve talked to you.”
“Hey! Look at me!” I didn’t. “Look at me, Scarlett!” he ordered this time, grabbing my elbow and forcing me to turn around. “Don’t say that, okay? I’m not exposing your life or anything. I was afraid they were going to link you to Tyler somehow, say sh–t about you, and, mostly, say sh–t to me for falling for you. Seriously, you don’t know my friends, I’m done of having to deal with their bullsh–t. Didn’t want you to have to do it, too.”
“It doesn’t make sense!” I protested again, glaring at him. “They didn’t know my name! And what if they linked me to Tyler somehow? You could’ve easily said we’d broken up or something.”
“Back then, no I couldn’t. You kept running away from me, finding excuses to not to stay with me. And you still do. What would I tell them if they found you snogging with Tyler? You don’t understand what I would have to go through, okay? Just,” he sighed, getting closer to me, thumbing a spot under my eye “please, Scar. Don’t get mad at me. Nothing’s going to happen, I promise you.”
And, honestly, f–ck those green glowing eyes. I wanted to punch Styles right now, for being such a douche, for sharing something I didn’t give him the right to, but also for looking absolutely innocent and guilty and just f–ck!
“Fine. Okay. But I swear, if anything happens-”
“It won’t. Why would it?” I glared at him again, but gave up. “Now c’mon, Mark is probably destroying my living room by now.”
I muttered a “you deserve it, though” through gritted teeth, but followed him anyway, finding myself calming down as his hand squeezed mine, until the moment I realized Mark was holding the ring I’d been staring at by the morning. Oh, sh–t. I hadn’t put it back into the drawer? Damn. Damn. Damn.
“Jesus, Styles. You still didn’t get rid of this?” Mark raised the ring, seeming about to throw it at Harry’s face.
“Mark, where’d you-” he ran towards him, struggling to get it from Mark’s hand. “Give it to me!” Harry growled, literally jumping on Mark.
I frowned.
“What is it?” I asked then, not being able to bear the curiousness. If Harry had a girlfriend, fiancé, wife, special best friend or whatever, I needed to know.
“Oooh, you haven’t told Mrs. Bad Mood yet?”
Harry slapped his own face before slapping Mark. Hard. His hands nervously moved from his features to his pocket, throwing the ring there and looking back at me cautiously, opening his mouth and closing it without letting a single word come out.
So there was something.
“Didn’t tell me what, Styles?”
●•Author's Note•●
dedication goes to: @TushieHushie thank you, love! I'm glad you appreciate this. And, well, I do try to make their relationship as real as possible, because honestly, the whole 'I love you thing' is just way too cheesy for them. Ahaha. I'm glad you can see it ;)
note: 1. Not much of an exciting chapter, but. Mark got to properly meet Scarlett. Andddd, she found some of Harry's things, which I assume, you already have an idea of whom they belong to. Can't wait for you to finally read about Harry's past! I was going crazy.
next update: Tuesday (November 19th)
900 votes for early update. Best comment gets a dedication :) Love you lots, really. - Dani xx