I'm always missing you.
*****
"Look at you, the Yoko Ono of this generation." He pats me on the shoulder in a congratulatory fashion, and I literally cringe at the thought.
"Shut up!" I say between gritted teeth as I smack his hand away, looking over my shoulder towards the kitchen door. "What if he hears you? I don't want him to know that I tell you these things."
"Well, is not like I don't expect you to do that."
His voice comes from the very same spot I looked at seconds ago and I can hear my neck cracking when I turn my head around. He stands under the threshold, hair dripping tiny beads of water and his eyes glimmering with amused cheekiness.
I try to open my mouth to say something redeeming about my behavior, but there is something about the way his black T-shirt clings to his damped skin, showing off the muscles of his chest and stomach, that simply leaves me speechless.
"Besides..." He continues, as he rakes his fingers through his hair and walks over to the table. "It wasn't Yoko's fault, really."
He pulls a chair to take a seat after planting a chaste kiss on the tip of my nose, suddenly shy at the fact that both Jasper and I can't seem to tear our eyes from his glorious, wet self.
"Really?" I say, covertly elbowing my roommate to snap him out of his fascination. "Tell that to the millions of fans that are still crying about the break up."
A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he reaches for the cup of coffee Jasper hands over to him.
"No, thank you." He says, shaking his head. "I prefer my arms and legs attached to my body."
"Good. So do I."
And with that, I manage to maneuver my graceful way out of a situation I still don't know how I got myself into.
I mean, can you imagine the hell that would befall upon my head if he would ever leave the band because of me? I would have to flee the planet if I want to keep breathing.
"Okay, I'm off." Jasper announces, loudly putting the breakfast dishes on the sink without even bothering to at least pour some hot water on them. "See you guys later?"
"Actually, I'm leaving tonight." Harry says in response, although his eyes are on me as he talks, and the air suddenly feels thick and impossible to draw in.
How is it possible to be so aware of how little time you have, and yet feel so blindsided by it? Deep in the back corner of my mind I knew today was his last day in the city, but it took him actually saying the words for me to really grasp it.
"Oh, okay..." Jasper mutters with his gaze also directed at me, and I quickly look away to stare at my half finished plate. "Well, have a good trip then. And I hope to see you again soon."
I look at them again when I hear Harry standing up and meeting Jasper for a short hug and a few slaps on the back.
The goodbye is awkward, to say the least. Like they want to do it properly and heartfelt but they can't seem to get it over with fast enough.
And before my mind begins to wander towards how our goodbye will be like, we are left in silence and alone.
"What now?" He pierces through my thoughts, and I look up at him.
"Now we brace ourselves for impact."
*****
Ground rules for the Lea Matheson - Harry Styles long distance relationahip as it follows:
First, and foremost, we are absolutely and indisputably exclusive to each other; no fooling around, no loopholes. We are fully commited to one another and no indiscretions of any kind are allowed.
Second, and I couldn't emphasized more about this, his commitments to the band and mine with my recovery have to be put in the highest place of priorities, and to overlook those commitments, unless absolutely necessary, is strictly prohibited.
And third, never let anything unsaid. If either of us should ever have a change of heart or mind, give the other the chance to make it right. There is no walking out of this one without trying our best first.
Basically, putting all those rules into just a few, more simple words, we make the pledge to give our all to make it work.
Are those the keys to have a perfect, lasting long distance relationship? Come talk to me in a few months and I will have the answer.
"I have one last question, though."
Harry looks up from the paper he thought it would be funny to write all of those things in. He was visibly anxious about the conversation we were about to have, so I decided to amuse his idea and rolled with it.
"What's that?" I giggle at the sight of him chewing the glitter pen he has been using.
"It's about our... situation." He says, and I have to snatch the thing out of his mouth before he destroys it and Jasper kills me. "I was... wondering, if you're okay with it, if I can openly be... you know... your boyfriend?"
In that moment my mind takes a leap five years into the past; sending me back to the time where he was just a small town boy standing at the other side of a counter that might as well be an entire ocean because of how unreachable I thought he was.
The boy who never laid eyes in my direction, or said a single word to me other than those that fall out of your mouth almost reflexively in a mundane situation such as selling pastries.
That boy is now a man. And he is not just laying his eyes on me, or talking to me. He is staring right into my soul, piercing through it, and saying the last thing you would ever consider ordinary.
I have had countless fantasies about this very moment, an although the variety of scenarios never included one where he would be sitting in my kitchen, freshly out of the shower and sipping coffee, my answer would always be the same.
"Okay. You can do that."
The hesitant smirk that was curling his lips breaks into a wide smile with my answer, and as soon as it does, I respond in the same way.
His lips trap mine into a deep, eager kiss. And his arms try to pull me as close as he can.
"Good... That's really good." He breathes into my mouth before he leans away. "Now, I'm gonna need you to sign this."
"You are a piece of work, did you know that." I laugh, scrabbling my name at the bottom of the paper sheet, right next to where his signature is.
"Yes, I do." He replies as he takes back the now signed document and folds it neatly before sliding it in the back pocket of his jeans. "But admit that is just the way you like it."
The rest of the morning we spend it just lounging around the house and actively avoiding all contact with the outside world, which for Harry, is starting to get utterly complicated as his phone is at the verge of bursting into flames.
"You should at least text him. Maybe that would get him off you back." I say, absentmindedly twisting the rings on his fingers as his phone begins to ring for the fourth time in the last five minutes.
"Nah! What is he going to do, anyway? All he ever does is threaten and give us these speeches we all know are only that."
He drops his phone next to him, and he stands up in a jolt. The way he begins to pace around the room is a clear evidence of a growing anxiety.
I noticed it a couple of minutes ago, when he grabbed the phone to reject yet another call and he stared at the screen for a few seconds.
With a quick, furtive glance at it, I realized he was just looking at the clock in the blocked screen just as it changed from 4:59 pm to 5.
Time, no matter how still it seemed to be for us, was surely and inexorably running out.
"Hey, come here." I beckon him tenderly, reaching my arms towards him. "We still have a few more hours."
"Not enough, though." He huffs, ignoring my calling and turning his back on me.
I softly mutter his name a few times but he doesn't move. And with a huge effort I find myself standing on my crutches and moving my way towards him.
When I reach his side I see that he has his eyes fixed on his hands and there's a thin, silver chain tangled around his fingers.
"I saw this around your neck that night, when you went out with him." He murmurs almost to himself. "Where did you get it?"
I look at the necklace for half a second before I see my paper airplane shaped pendant dangling in the air. I frown at it, wondering what was it doing laying around when I'm always careful to put my things away in their proper places.
"I bought it ages ago at this small shop back home, why?" I ask him, remembering that unusually hot summer day I walked into that store just to get a few minutes of air conditioner.
I wasn't really expecting to buy anything but as I was pretending to look around the merchandise so I wouldn't get the bad eye from the owner, I came across that shiny little cheap thing and I loved it.
"That sneaky liar... She told me she had it made for me." His lips twist into a half smile, while still staring at the necklace. "Gemma, my sister."
I let out a soft giggle, telling myself how stupid it was of me to feel jealous for half a second.
"You own rings and watches that cost more than a year's rent of this place, and yet you couldn't tell it was just trinket?"
I look up at him and I run my hand down his back, feeling how his muscles tense and relax at the touch. That faint smile he was sporting suddenly becomes a full grin amd he shrugs.
"I guess I should've known better." He chuckles. "But then again, I loved it."
"What happened to it? Did you lose it?" I ask him.
He keeps fidgeting with the peice of jewelry, looking at it attentively like he is trying to find a difference between the one in his hands and the one his sister gave to him.
"No. I gave it away." He tells me with a low tone that resembles a lot like regret.
I want to ask more. I want to know who he gave the necklace to, but I figure that if he doesn't tell me on his own command, then probably is not something that I actually want to know. After all, it is rather pointless.
"You can have it." I say almost without thinking but never regreting the words.
His eyes meet mine for the first time since I stood next to him, and when his lips part open to probably say he can't accept it, I rush to kiss them shut.
"Remind me again... why am I doing this?" He says when I pull myself away. "Why am I leaving?"
The crutches that were keeping me on my feet are no longer when he wraps his arms around my waist and I do the same.
"Because there is a perfectly legal document binding you to do just that." I tell him as my hand slides into his pocket and stays there. "Remember?"
"Keep touching my arse this way and you'll leave me no choice but to tear that stupid paper to shreds."