I buttoned up Harry's flannel over my body and tugged on the leggings Harry claimed belonged to his older sister, Gemma. He said she had accidentally left them during her last visit a few months ago and he'd never had the chance to return them. It was sweet of Harry to pack a bag for me. It was filled with essentials, most of which I figured he'd bought once I found the box of tampons. I had blushed and quickly thrown them back in the bag.
Once I was dressed and my wet hair was braided to the side I ventured downstairs to find all of the boys standing in the living room near the front door. Louis caught my eye and gave me a warm smile as I entered.
"Alice! We were just talking about you!" he called before pulling a ridiculous face. Harry rolled his eyes at Louis before catching my hand and pulling me toward him. "Ready to go?"
I took a deep breath and nodded, but inside I was screaming at myself that this was a horrible idea. How could I possibly take Harry to visit my mother when she was six feet under?
I hadn't expected Harry to insist that we go today. In fact, I couldn't fully understand it. He was dead set on my protection, but then he wanted to go and meet my mum the day after Zayn and I saved him from something that could have gone horribly wrong if not for our appearance. I didn't question him though.
Harry helped me into his Range Rover after a quick word with the boys alone and then we were headed back towards Bradford. I wasn't sure how to go about this. I knew once we entered town, Harry would want directions on where to go, but I couldn't quite figure out where I was directing him.
I could only think of one way to go about this in which I might be able to evade the topic of my mother's death. It would involve lying though, and that wasn't something I was particularly fond of, especially with Harry. His words still rang clear in my mind.
What's the point in lying?
He looked at me expectantly after about a mile into town.
"Turn right," I mumbled, suddenly feeling cold and empty. He frowned but did as I instructed.
"Where are we going?" he asked after a moment.
"My mum's house," I replied. "She... should be home."
I quietly directed him through the busy morning streets of Bradford until we were turning into a neighborhood.
I couldn't help but look back at the cemetery that sat just around the corner from my old home. It was one of the reasons I refused to go back, but there was also the sadness of seeing all of my mother's old stuff in it's previous places.
The house had never been sold. I wasn't sure what happened with it, really, but I knew it was abandoned, all of the furniture inside slowly withering away.
"There," I whispered, pointing out the little house. It seemed as if this whole street had become abandoned after my mother's death. It was a place frozen in time.
Harry pulled up on the side of the road and waited patiently as I stared out the window at the house. The pale walls and the dark roof looked just the same as before, but the grass was dead, the flowers withered. It had an air of abandonment... an air of sadness. "Let's go," I said weakly.
Harry remained mute as I slowly led him up to the front door. I had barely placed my hand on the old wood when it creaked open at my touch. I didn't look at Harry as I pushed it open farther and walked inside. He trailed behind me.
It was the same as before, but the color and life had faded away from everything and it was obvious that someone had been in here based on the odd sheets covering the couches and chairs and the white paint that now covered every picture frame.
"Alice?" I looked over to Harry to see him sliding a picture out from beneath the tainted frame. My teeth immediately clicked together in an attempt to keep my tears at bay as I took in my mother's familiar face.
"You look a lot alike," Harry murmured, his fingers brushing the layer of dust away from my mother's photo. Now that I looked at it, we did look very similar. The same dark hair, the same blue eyes, the same smile. I felt a pang in my chest that seemed almost electrical as I stared at the one person who had tried to keep me safe in this world of darkness... the one person aside from Harry.
"Beautiful," he whispered before he replaced the photo back in it's frame and turned to look at me. His expression was somber. "Baby?"
I just looked at him. He let out a breath and walked over to me, close enough so that he could entwine our fingers.
"Why did you lie to me?" There were too many conflicting emotions in his voice. The forced calm, the subsiding anger, the poorly disguised pain and hurt at the fact that I wouldn't share the truth with him. I looked down at our hands: his slightly tanner ones that were covered in barely noticeable scars, and my pale in contrast smooth ones.
"I don't know," I admitted with a small shake of my head. "I wasn't sure how to do this. My mom... I..." I shook my head again, unable to speak straight. Harry pulled me gently against his chest, and I was short enough that he was able to easily place his chin on the top of my head. His fingers stroked through my hair comfortingly.
"It's okay," he assured me. "If you're not comfortable with a proper introduction, it's understandable. I'm not exactly the kind of person a girl would want to bring home to meet their mother."
I pulled away from him so quickly that his fingers that were twisting in my hair pulled harshly against it, causing slight pain in my head, but I ignored my own stupidity and stared at him. He looked at me in confusion.
"How could you possibly believe that?" I gaped.
"You don't have to feel bad, Alice," Harry shook his curls. "It makes sense. I'm not offended."
"That's not the problem," I muttered, looking down again. He caught hold of my chin and forced me to look into his dark eyes. No green was present now. "Then what is?"
I closed my eyes, the only way I could escape his intense gaze, and took a deep breath. "I'll take you to her," I whispered. I slowly opened my eyes again, one-by-one, to find him frowning.
"I don't want you to feel like you have to--"
"I want to," I interrupted him. "I do."
He seemed uncertain but slowly allowed me to lead him back outside to where his car waited. He attempted to open the passenger door for me but I shook my head. "I'd rather walk," I told him. He seemed surprised but nodded in response and took my hand in his own.
We walked in silence, and I wondered what was going through Harry's mind right now. He seemed to be wondering the same.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly.
I looked up at him to find him already watching me, his expression neutral. I shrugged. "I was thinking about how I wish I knew what you were thinking." A smile lit up his features, those perfect dimples indenting his cheeks.
"Well, I was thinking about how perfectly imperfect we are," he answered. I frowned.
"Perfectly imperfect?"
He nodded, looking at me intently. "I'd like to say that this"--he held up our hands together before letting them fall back between us--"is perfect, but it's not. Everything is flawed and we're no different. So I'd like to think then, that we're perfectly imperfect. If we were to have a contest about it though, I'd have to disagree with the statement that nobody's perfect, because they obviously hadn't met you."
His short speech left my mind reeling, attempting to keep up with the unexpected words flowing from Harry's mouth. He was patiently waiting for my response, but I couldn't seem to formulate one, as per usual. I finally managed something plausible after ten excruciatingly long seconds.
"I disagree," I said slowly. "I know you've done a lot of things... and I know you have a lot of scars." I glanced at his knuckles. They were lined with faded marks from what could only be caused by lots of fighting. "But you're perfect. I'm the one who throws off the balance."
A small smile graced Harry's features. "I've never been perfect, and I never will be. I'm tainted by the past, and probably the future. I always manage to fuck everything up." He stopped abruptly to face me, his eyes dark but passionate and his expression serious. "But I promise I won't fuck this up. I'll try my hardest to be perfect for you, baby."
Before I could answer, Harry crushed his lips to mine feverishly. My hands tangled in his curls immediately, tugging his face closer to mine and deepening the kiss. Meanwhile, his hands roamed my sides, coming at a rest on my hips.
We broke apart only when I heard hooting and whistling behind us. I turned to see an old truck full of men. They were much older than Harry and I--maybe in their late thirties to early forties--and covered with dark tattoos. The vehicle screeched to a stop on the road beside us. I looked back at Harry to find him smirking. That was a good sign. His eyes weren't full of hatred like I knew they could be at this moment.
"Eh, Styles you look like you're doing good for yourself," the driver grinned at Harry.
"I am, Felix," he answered. His hand wound around my waist, pulling me protectively back against him. Even if Harry knew these guys and felt that they weren't a threat, I knew he would be cautious like this. He couldn't afford not to be.
Felix nodded, that sloppy grin still on his face. "I saw your Rover back there and knew you must be around. There're not many who have that sticker on the back." He let out a throaty guffaw and Harry joined him. I frowned, trying to place what sticker he spoke about in my mind, but couldn't. I had never noticed it, and suddenly it was piquing my interest.
"What's your name, princess?" Felix called to me. I tensed. Only Harry had ever called me princess, and it was something I preferred only him to call me. He had alternated between that and 'baby' but princess was the one that Harry had used first, and it made me feel strange to hear someone else call me it.
Harry's fingers rubbed light circles into my hips and I knew what he was trying to get across. Just go with it.
"Alice," I answered with a shy smile.
"Beautiful name," he complimented me. "How long you two been together?"
Again, I froze. I wasn't even sure of what Harry and I were, and I had been too afraid to ask. I felt foolish now for not clearing it up, because here someone was asking about it.
"Together implies a lot," Harry answered, avoiding the question. Felix smirked and shook his head before revving the engine. "We're on our way outta here for now. Got some stuff to figure out. But we'll talk soon, eh, Styles?"
Harry simply nodded before the truck sped away and out of sight. We immediately resumed walking, our moment stolen by Felix.
"Alice."
I ignored Harry beside me. I had dropped his hand when we'd started walking again and he had obviously noticed. He repeated my name twice, but still I didn't answer.
Finally he stopped and grabbed my wrist, whirling me around to face him. "Don't fucking ignore me," he growled. The look of anger on his face mixed with the dark eyes and his tight hold on my arm caused me to let out a whimper of fear. Immediately he released me and took a step back. His voice softened considerably. "I'm sorry."
It was strange to see his automatic change as soon as he realized that I was scared. I could tell in his features how much he regretted allowing himself to become so frustrated, but I couldn't will myself to accept his apology.
"Alice, really, I'm sorry," he repeated. His voice dripped with agony at my frozen expression and he stepped forward. I still didn't respond.
"Please," he whispered. His arms wound around my waist and he leaned his head on my shoulder, nuzzling his face into my neck. His curls tickled my cheek but even that didn't gain a reaction out of me. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice slightly muffled.
He pulled away after a few more silent moments, his eyes narrowed curiously before he left a peck on my lips. My eyes narrowed in response as I realized that he was teasing me. He did it again, just a peck, but on the corner of my mouth instead.
He continued with his teasing game until I finally pulled his lips to mine. When I pulled away again we were both breathless.
"I'm sorry," he said for the fourth time as he leaned his forehead against mine.
"For what?" I asked quietly. His eyes darkened subtly at the double meaning he knew could apply to his words. Was he sorry for losing his temper or for avoiding Felix's question?
"Both," he said after a moment. "I didn't mean to get angry. You know that. As for the other thing... I figured that Felix shouldn't know until we've decided that for ourselves. It's not about him. It's about us."
I hadn't expected his answer. "Later," he promised me after a moment of more silence. I nodded and we resumed walking.
I began to feel nervous as the cemetery came within view. I hadn't visited my mother's grave in a long time, and after revisiting my old home, I felt nauseous and unsure. Harry remained silent as we finally entered.
Row after row we walked. The place seemed endless--an endless land of gravestones and sadness--but finally after what felt like hours I stopped. I always knew exactly where my mother's gravestone was based on the fact that it resided in the shadow of a big tree. I stopped in front of it and released Harry's hand before turning to look at him.
"Harry... meet my mother... Evelyn Maddox."
Harry stared at the gravestone for a long time, as did I. Time did not change it.
It surprised me slightly when I noticed Harry sit down on the ground in front of it. I hesitantly followed suit and Harry offered me his hand to hold, though he didn't look away from the engraved words on the gravestone. Suddenly, a delicate smile crossed his features.
"Hello Mrs. Maddox," he spoke in a sweet, charming tone. "I'm Harry Styles."
He paused, as if waiting for her response before another smile appeared on his face. "Your daughter is the most precious thing to me. I don't know how you raised her, but you did it well. She's impeccable. And gorgeous. She looks a lot like you, you know..."
Harry continued on, speaking to the silent gravestone for a long time. He would pause now and then, and I realized that those would be the moments where my mother would reply and brush her hair to the side like she always did when she spoke happily to people.
For half an hour we sat there, Harry speaking to my mother about the recent events and how 'perfect' I was. I remained quiet until he had said his goodbyes and stood. He didn't pull me up with him.
I stared at the gravestone and felt a tear roll down my cheek.
"I love you," I whispered, my fingers brushing the dirt in front of where I sat, before I stood too. I looked at Harry and shook my head, mesmerized by what he had just done.
I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed his lips gently before pulling away and staring into his strangely bright green eyes.
"You're the perfect one here."