Soundtrack: Peter Frampton - Do You Feel Like We Do
Dedication: sarah (@1DLittleWhiteLies) simple but beautiful, you're the best for leaving the comments you do and adding tangerine to your reading list and being into it more than i could ask for and basically thank you for everything :)
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The birds begin chirping at seven in the morning. I try to go back to sleep to finish the dream I was having, but it's impossible just listening to the cars pass by outside every now and again.
Harry is already gone and the rustled sheets to my side emphasize that fact. I want to lay with him again. I already miss him next to me. I'm so fucking drawn to him lately, it's the weirdest thing ever.
There's a note on the top of Harry's otherwise spotless dresser. I notice it as I'm changing out of my sleep attire. I read it with a smile plastered across my face, whether I realise it or not.
Morning, Scar ‒
Meet me in the kitchen when you're up.
‒ H .xx
The crosses at the end of Harry's note make my stomach flutter. His handwriting is so personal; so delicate. And it gets me thinking. While any other person would have chosen to text me or something similar, Harry chose to leave me a handwritten note.
As if that's not the most precious thing ever.
I skip down the staircase once I'm dressed in a loose-fitting Jim Morrison t-shirt and high-waisted jean shorts. I find Harry in his kitchen, just like he said, preparing some fruit for breakfast.
"Good morning," I voice, bumping into him playfully.
"Good morning," he mimics, bumping back into me, making me laugh. "Did you have a good sleep?"
"Really good, actually," I smile, picking out a piece from the fruit he's chopping. "How about you?"
"Same," Harry draws out the word endearingly. "I usually sleep naked at home, but I couldn't spoil everything on our first date," he winks.
First date.
"Right," I smirk, ignoring my accelerating pulse. "Wouldn't wanna get injured."
"What?" Harry furrows his brows in a chuckle.
"Louis said you've hit him round the head with your willy while he was sleeping a couple times-"
"Oh my god."
"-said it wrapped around his whole face," I go on, not even bothering to stifle my massive grin. "I'm surprised he didn't get whiplash."
Harry gapes at me comically, "Louis told you that, did he?"
"Oh, yeah," I gaze back at him, smirking through my closed lips.
Harry flashes me his gleaming smile, dazing me momentarily. The expression he gives me doesn't allow for any words to leave my mouth. His eyes are so perfectly green and fuck, if I didn't have a crush on him before, I definitely do now.
"Oh," Harry pipes up, going back to chopping his strawberries, "I almost forgot!"
"What's up?"
"You were still asleep when I got out of bed today but I looked at you for a second and- I dunno, it just came to me," Harry smirks, setting his knife down momentarily. "This one's pretty good. I think I'm gonna tell it on stage in Mexico," he raises his eyebrows, awaiting my anticipation.
"Go on, then," I amusingly resist rolling my eyes, despite how much I know I'm gonna want to after hearing this one.
"Alright," Harry clears his throat, rolling up his sleeves a bit more. "I'm so good at sleep, I can do it with my eyes closed."
I crack up laughing, shaking my head at how hilariously lame it is, but I can't just not praise him. It's Harry.
"So good," I beam fondly.
"Yes!" Harry raises a little victory fist. "Another one for the bank."
We share a spontaneous high five, giggling and way too giddy for this kind of early hour. Harry gives me another look before tossing all of his chopped fruit into one bowl.
Every time he touches me, even in the most casual way, my heart seems to swell. I hate the distance between our hands, our mouths, my body that could be against his, if only I would just go for it. I hate wanting to touch him and kiss him. I hate wanting to hold him and feel his breath against mine. I hate wanting his attention. His lips. His skin.
I hate wanting Harry.
I miss Louis, that's what it is. I can't stand the infinite thoughts in my mind drowning me in Louis' voice, Louis' touch, Louis' scent. I miss him enough that whenever I think of him my heart breaks, and whenever I'm not thinking of him I'm walking through life with an indistinguishable void, wondering why my heart feels so broken.
It makes my thoughts seem almost pointless, having Louis constantly here even when he's not. It's a mind-numbing sort of feeling. A feeling that puts me out of place, even at my strongest.
"Hey, Scar, you okay?" Harry senses my ill demeanour and pauses what he's doing to caress my arm comfortingly. "What's the matter?"
"I, uh-," I chuckle, briefly running over my nagging thoughts once more. "I'm an idiot. It's nothing."
"First, you're not an idiot. I don't want to hear you calling yourself names like that. You're worth more than you know," Harry's eyebrows raise intently. "And second... is it about Louis?"
I blink my eyes, annoyed only at myself, and nod plainly, "I'm trying not to think about him. I really am. It's just not working out. At all. I'm feeling a bit blue, I guess."
"Whenever I'm feeling blue, I start breathing again," Harry utters softly, lightly breaking his contact from my skin. "Why don't you have a wash upstairs and come back for some breakfast when you're done? Might help you feel better."
I nod, rounding back out of the kitchen and heading upstairs.
It's not that I'd rather be staying with Louis over Harry. I just don't like the idea of having to choose between two perfectly good things.
I don't understand it, is what it is.
I can hear Anne talking with Louis' mum, Johannah, as I pass her and Robin's bedroom. They've been on the phone together since I woke up, making me feel closer and farther away from Louis than ever.
I consider texting him but I wouldn't know what to say.
It would probably come out like, "Hey, I'm at Harry's and he's being fucking sweet and I really like him and oh hey guess what we're sleeping in the same bed and did I mention he sleeps naked lol but I guess you already knew that."
Yeah, I'm definitely not texting Louis with a mindset like this.
At least, not yet.
I feel like I take my time in the shower but it's a quick wash overall. I draw little pictures on the steamy mirror once I'm done and the water is off. I figure Harry will probably be taking a shower after me and mirror doodles are something I know he'll have a good laugh at.
I exit the bathroom with a smile.
And I'm not sure how it happened but somehow Anne and I end up watching telly together in the living room while Robin works out in the garden. We've got a large bowl of Harry's fruit salad in front of us and we're watching old reruns of Happy Days. My hair is still damp but the towel over my shoulders is pleasantly comforting.
"He's been in there for a while, hasn't he?" I feel my face flush at my accidental comment about Harry in the shower but Anne just laughs.
"He's known to take the longest showers of all the boys."
"Really?" I chuckle. "How do you know?"
"Mums know things," she winks wittingly. "Besides, all the boys have spent enough time in all of our homes that I'm sure the other parents know what I'm talking about."
"Oh, yeah, I never really thought of it like that."
Aside from Anne's long phone conversation with Johannah this morning, I almost forgot the boys' parents are all connected and very close with each other. Especially Anne and Jo.
That's the fucked up thing about having feelings for both Louis and Harry. They're best friends. Obviously, I had to get involved with the two best friends of the group. But what's even more fucked up is so are their mums. It's like I can't escape them. Whenever I'm with Harry we'll refer to Louis and whenever I'm with Louis we'll mention Harry and it just goes on like that.
It's shitty because now that I'm here in Cheshire, I have this weird feeling that Anne knows more about me than she's letting on. The lads are all incredibly close with their families ‒ closer than I could ever understand ‒ so Louis has most likely told his mum about me, considering all the time we've spent together. And if Johannah has heard from Louis, Anne has definitely heard from Harry.
So if Louis told his mum and Harry told his mum...
And both of those mums are best friends just like their sons are...
I don't even want to start to think about what could've possibly been said about me in those circumstances. My stomach turns in guilt at the thought of it. Anne's been nothing but fucking lovely to me and she probably thinks I'm using her son or something foul like that. I can't even look at the woman, imagining what she might know or believe.
I'm a terrible person.
I can't pretend like what I'm doing is right.
"How has your stay been so far, dear?" Anne's voice cascades into my thoughts.
My breath hitches and my face heats up, "Really, really-" I can feel my eyes lightly glazing over. "It's been... fantastic."
"I'm really glad you're here with us," the lively television programme comes second to Anne's attention on me. "So is everyone else. Gemma even mentioned you when we were seeing her off this morning."
"She did?" my breath hitches.
Anne simply nods, "She said you got on pretty well; that you've got a likeable personality."
"Wow, that's- I'm a little surprised."
"Why are you surprised?"
"Well, I just kind of showed up last minute. I wasn't really sure if I was allowed to come but..." I can feel small tears welling up in my eyes as I whisper the last bit, "you've all been so nice."
I don't cry often but once I start it's hell to stop. I'm trying to hold back as best I can but it's not really working out.
"Scarlet, you're one of Harry's best friends," Anne reaches out and rests her hand on my knee. "Of course you're allowed to be here. Anytime you need something, just ask. Don't be afraid to make this house your home, because that's what we're here for. Me, Robin and Gemma too."
"I just-" I cut myself off to sniff my stuffed nose as my tears quickly leave my eyes and roll down past my cheeks. "I never thought this life was possible."
Anne lets out a sentimental sigh and wraps me in a sudden, warm hug.
That's when I lose it.
I grip onto Anne's waist, holding her close without letting go. There's a throbbing ache in my chest as I bawl in her embrace.
"Everything's going to be okay," Anne whispers to me, gently rubbing along my back. "Maybe not today, but eventually."
My eyes burn.
I can barely see from the tears blurring my vision.
And for once I can feel.
"I didn't ask for any of this," I hitch in the tiniest breath.
Anne gently strokes my hair, openly letting me rest on her shoulder.
"Darling, you didn't need to."
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Anne steps out for groceries just as I can hear Harry finishing up in the shower.
I climb back upstairs and wait for Harry in his bedroom. I'm not the best at making myself at home and Harry's room is the most familiar area in the house for me so far. It's where most of my things are and it's the location I'm most naturally drawn to, so I'm perfectly comfortable just relaxing in here.
I lay on his bed, scrolling through my phone, and decide to follow a bunch of people online. I send a massive thank you to everyone who's been supporting me this far and has allowed me to experience as much as I have. If it wasn't for Mitch and countless determined fans, I'd still be that ignorant person who would scoff at the mere mention of One Direction without a further thought.
It's only been half a year since my life changed but it's always going to feel like a lifetime ago.
"You look comfy," a voice comes from the bedroom door as it clicks open.
I can feel myself stiffen up at the sight of him.
There's Harry Styles. Fresh from the shower with his curls settled around his forehead. Ringlets framing his face like a poignant work of art. Damp hair slicked back and pushed into itself despite his playful curls.
He's really fucking beautiful.
"Is this another silent treatment?" Harry jokes; a smirk playing on his lips.
I laugh suddenly. I'm aching to try and keep my vision on his face, although I know I've already checked him out a few more times than I would like to admit.
"Liam was right," I tell him, decidedly ignoring his cheeky comments, "you do look like baby Tarzan."
The closer he gets to me, the more I can smell the minty scent of his body wash.
"If I was really baby Tarzan I'd have to shake out this mess," Harry motions to his damp hair as he rests next to me on his bed.
"Yes, you would," I stirringly raise my eyebrows.
Harry chuckles at my expression, effortlessly smirking back at me and lowering his voice on command, "Wanna get wet?"
"Harry-!" I choke but it's already happening.
My screams are muted in Harry's chest as he shakes out his hair. Tiny droplets of water are sent cascading all over me, his blankets and his hard oak floor.
"You arsehole," I hiss against his collar bones.
"You like it," Harry whispers back, holding me close.
He's right.
I'd rather be here doing nothing with Harry. Watching his eyes as he looks at the world. Laughing together about stupid things. Feeling closer to him than ever. I'd rather be here, feeling his presence and understanding his thoughts. Here, in my best friend's childhood home with a real family and real love.
I'd rather be here than almost anywhere at all.
And as for Louis?
It's almost as if he's in another world.
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