Renleigh Kensington
Who knew spaghetti could taste so fucking good with a shit ton of cheese and a little bit of ketchup on top? Oh, and a glass – well, three glasses – of wine on the side, of course.
I was stuffed. To the point where I felt like throwing up to ease the pain in my stomach. It kind of burned, too. Perhaps it was due to the fact that it had been quite a long time since I have had a proper home cooked meal. Ordering food from restaurants and the way Harry cooked was different. But nice different.
"Watching this is making me never wanna leave a club alone anymore," Harry mumbled next to me on the couch. Both of our legs were on my coffee table with blankets covering us, a glass of wine in our hands as we comfortably sat on the couch and watched this mystery video. It was about this lad who disappeared after he went to the club in Scotland and he was never found. "What if that happens to me?"
"Dunno," I shrugged. "Just don't leave the club alone."
"Tell that to my drunk arse," he scoffed and took a sip of his wine. I didn't reply to that just carried on paying attention to the video. I loved stuff like this and the fact that Harry was interested in this was kind of cool. "What do you mean they stopped searching?"
"Styles, shut the fuck up!" I groaned and turned up the volume. He chatted so much, I wanted to stuff his mouth with the blanket he gripped in anger. This shit really brought his emotions out, damn. Then his phone went off loud and clear. "I swear to god..." I mumbled as I drank some of my wine.
"It's work. Be right back," he told me as he stood up and left me on my own. It didn't matter, I was finally alone, in silence and could listen properly. I didn't even notice when he walked back in and sat down in his spot from before. The video was nearing its end, it was one of those YouTube videos, actually, and they were saying their goodbye or whatever. I wasn't arsed about that so I clicked out and went on to the next one. "So, turns out I need to go to Paris."
"Fun," I mumbled. It had been a few months since my last visit to the city which was obviously to do with work. My next visit was likely to be for work, too. When was it ever not for work?
"I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon."
"Nice."
"You're so annoying."
"Why do you attack me constantly?" I asked him with a dramatic sigh. "First you have a go at me for my tomatoes now you have a problem with what exactly?"
"Nothing," he rolled his eyes. "Point is, since I am your house nurse, you are coming with me."
"Hah, nice one," I smirked at him and he just stared at me with a serious facial expression. "I'm not going to fucking Paris with you."
"Why?" he questioned. "It's a free trip for you. Plus, you can't work anyway and I doubt there's much for you to do."
"I'm sure I'll find something to do."
"Yeah, well, you don't have to," he told me as a matter of fact. "I have found you something already. I'm flying private so you don't need no tickets to anything. Just your passport, a few outfits and you're settled."
"Why do I need to go?" I asked him, not excited at all. I did not want to go. Why did he act like we were such good mates all of a sudden?
"Did you not listen? I am your house nurse. I need to be where you are all the time to look after you."
"So, don't go to Paris."
"I wouldn't go if I didn't need to," he told me. "But I do. Out of everyone, you should know that the best."
"Right."
"Fab. I'm picking you up at one tomorrow. Plane leaves at half two."
"I'm not going," I fought.
"Quit being stubborn and let me take you to Paris."
"I've been to Paris before."
"Not for leisure," he stated which was correct. It was kind of easy to come to terms with that. He knew how much I worked. "Plus, I signed the contract in which you agreed I could take you on dates."
"Yes, dates. Not on trips to other countries."
"Then I guess you'll need to pretend that we're in England or some shit. Because you're coming with me."
"No, I'm not."
"Kensington. You are."
"Styles. I am not."
"Please?"
"No."
"Pretty please," he pouted at me and turned towards me. "Don't be difficult."
"Why? I thought you liked a chase and all," I smirked as I pulled one of my eyebrows up.
"Didn't I tell you it feels like a damn marathon with you?"
"Didn't I tell you I don't slack?"
He sighed. "Just agree to come with me, please. You can continue being difficult once we are there."
"Nah. I enjoy being difficult all the time," I grinned. "I love seeing men sweat."
"I cooked for you, I sweated enough through that," he fought back.
"You moved around my kitchen smoothly and you didn't even seem tired," I kept going. I wondered when he would give up. I knew I wasn't going to.
"Kensington, just fucking agree before I tie your hands and legs together and kidnap you."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Oh, trust me, I would," he smirked. "It would be quite amusing, actually. Seeing you all tied up for me."
"That sounded very sexual," I looked at him with squinted eyes and he winked at me. "Oh my god. You kinky fuck," a laughter escaped my lips and he just sipped on his wine. "Are you into handcuffs and shit then?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he asked me smugly. Yes, I would, actually.
"No, I'm fine, actually," I told him. "I don't want to be one of the many."
"Shut up," he scoffed. "I haven't been with as many women as you think I have."
"I'm finding it hard to believe."
"Why is that?" he questioned. "I don't take you as someone who falls for rumours."
"It would be stupid to deny you look hot. Which automatically means women are all over you when you go out clubbing and whatnot. Business events? Definitely. I know this industry. CEOs fuck left, right and centre, anyone they can get off with."
"Oh, yeah?" he replied. "Have you experienced it or something?"
"Kind of. Declined most of them, though," I shrugged. Another sip of my wine and the beverage was gone. "At the start, it was... interesting. Then I realised how fucking vile people are."
"Who did you get with?" he asked me curiously, a laugh erupted from his throat. He was so curious. And I couldn't believe how much that reminded me of myself.
"Hold on," I mumbled as I pulled my phone up and clicked on my notes app. I had a list of names. "Right. So. James Allford. Theo O'Neil. Sebastian Reyes. Lucas Capra."
"Alright, stop," he laughed. "So, you have had your fair share of males, huh?"
"No. I've only had five. The last one is Zayn Malik."
"You fucked Malik?" he asked me, his mouth hung open and facial expression completely stunned. "That man is gorgeous."
"Yeah... I guess," I shrugged. "It's kind of weird. Working with him after what happened."
"When did you two get together?"
"Way before he started working with me," I said as I locked my phone. "I was like, six months into my company."
"I never knew that," he said, shocked. "Wow. You and him together would be hot."
"Ew, stop," I looked at him with a disgusted look. "His personality fucks up his good looks. I have no idea how he has a girlfriend."
"Your personality fucks up your good looks sometimes."
"Fuck you, Styles," I kicked his feet with mine then crossed my ankles again. "Who have you fucked?"
"Celia, mostly," he shrugged. "But before and during her, there was like... three women and one man."
"Who?" I asked. "I spilled the names, now you have to as well."
"Celia, Amanda-,"
"That's such a basic name for someone who gets fucked. Anyway, continue."
"Then there was this Swedish chick... Maja, I think, I don't know. That's three, um the fourth one was... I don't fucking know. She was American, though. Then the man was Aaron."
"You don't know their last names?"
"I don't keep track of them like you do," he scoffed and I sighed, disappointed. Kind of wanted to look them up to see how they looked. "It was all a one-time thing. Apart from Celia. We fucked more than once."
"She's stunning. I would have if I were you."
"She's obsessed with your work," he told me and it made me feel excited. I loved hearing stuff like that. It also made me proud. "She tried to make me buy her stuff for her birthday from your line but she's not my girl or anything so I told her to fuck off. Hasn't come around since."
"You're rude."
"Maybe that's why we get on so well."
"What makes you say we get on well? We just fight all the time."
"That's true. But we can also talk about real stuff, you know."
"Like what?"
"Like how fucking lazy you are. Who the hell keeps rotten tomatoes in their fridge other than a lazy piece of shit like you?"
"Literally fuck off coming at me for that! I told you I'm never home."
"That's right. And you won't be home from tomorrow for like, a few days. I can't believe we just filled your fridge and you won't even be able to eat it all."
"I told you I'm not going Paris with you."
"Can you speak properly?" he asked me as he changed the subject. I rolled my eyes. So, maybe I missed a few 'to' and 'the' sometimes but it was whatever. "And you're coming with me. Please. I've never been there with a girl before."
"Take your mother."
"I'd rather down a bottle of bleach," he scoffed. I looked at him with my mouth wide open. I usually said stuff like that and now he did, too, probably without even knowing. But also, the way he said that about his mother was just... bold. "What?"
"Why do you dislike her so much?"
"Because she's not a good mother. She's judgemental and rude, always thinks of her work before her family yet she had no problem getting knocked up and bringing three kids into the world. She thinks just because she's loaded, she can hire nannies and ask her parents to look after her kids so she can spend her precious time in America or wherever the fuck she goes all the time with her other stuck up friends," he ranted in literally one breath. It was difficult to understand what he said because his words mushed together quite a bit, his accent caused them to sound like he cut them off more than needed.
"Damn."
"I'm glad you didn't have to spend more time around her than it was necessary. My dad is bad, too, but nowhere near as horrible as my mother."
"That's pretty fucked up."
"Yeah... what about you? How are your parents?"
"They're... chill, for the most part. They're good parents, probably a little more supportive than others but that's nice."
For some weird reason, we always got back to the parents topic. I didn't mind, I guess that was what people did when they tried to get to know someone, right? Dig in their life from every angle.
Later, he decided to leave because he had to pack for his trip. I told him I wasn't going and then we ended up fighting over it for another half an hour. Still on my couch. Meaning he didn't actually leave. He just kept on fighting me as if he thought I would agree eventually.
"Kensington!" he dragged my name out as he leaned on my thighs with his forehead. His back looked so broad and his arms were under my leg. He whimpered like he was crying and I had to laugh. But I kept it in. Instead, I rolled my eyes and decided to move my legs so his head would bounce up and down too. "Stop. My brain is jiggling in the juice in my head."
"Maybe I want it to mess up."
"You cruel bitch," he groaned and suddenly moved. His hands attacked my sides and I almost kicked his head off because I was crazy ticklish.
"Fuck off! Styles, fuck off!" I moved all around the couch, my breathing loud and fast as he kept tickling me and I almost pissed myself. I hated being tickled. I almost choked on my laughter as I tried to kick him off of me and then I heard something breaking.
We both quieted the fuck down.
He looked at me with his hair on his forehead and messed up, cheeks a little red and eyes wide. I knew I couldn't have looked any better than him. Especially because I was the one getting attacked.
"That was you," he blamed me right away. I opened my mouth, ready to get defensive as he got off of me. He pushed his body away from mine and sat on his knees, feet under his bum.
I followed him up as I pushed my hair behind my ears and looked down at the broken wine glass. It was mine and thankfully, it was empty.
"This is your fault," I told him once I set my eyes back on him. I pushed him a little and he was quick to grab my wrists.
"Oh, yeah?" he smirked at me.
"If you wouldn't have attacked me like a hungry beast who just found its prey, I wouldn't have tried to escape and in the process kick down the glass."
"But did you hear what you said?" he asked. "You kicked it off."
"Because of you, you absolute fucking twat!"
"Fuck off calling me names!"
"Then clean up your mess."
"Excuse you?!" he looked at me with an offended expression. "That's your mess."
"Which I made because of you! Clean it up."
"Fuck you, I'm leaving," he said as he got up. "I was meant to be home an hour ago."
He stood up and carefully stepped around the glass. Since he was still close to the couch, I stood up and jumped on his back. He groaned loudly and almost fell facing the floor which made me scream. Thankfully, he gained his balance back pretty quick and grabbed my thighs from under with his hands.
"You are fucking crazy," he scolded me. "Stop moving or we'll-," and then we fucking fell. I fell on him which was soft but he groaned because he came in contact with the floor directly. "What the fuck did I-, your fucking slipper. I swear to god!"
I just laughed with my legs over his waist, my head on the floor, arms over my stomach. I had no idea if this was the wine acting out or I just genuinely found us falling over funny. It was just me being loud for a while before Styles joined me too. His laughter mushed with mine and because his sounded so much deeper, I found myself giggling about it.
"You swear a lot," I said suddenly.
"So do you."
"Why do you really want me to go to Paris? I know it's not to look after me or whatever."
"To spend time with you... sometimes, I feel limited here when it comes to dates. I mean, there is only so many places you haven't been to in London. Plus, don't they say Paris is the city of love? Maybe that will do us some good, being there I mean."
"You really do want me, huh?" a light chuckle took away the seriousness of my question. It just seemed unreal to me that he was so persistent.
"I'm not answering that."
"Why?"
"Because you'll just say shit about yourself and how I'm stupid or something. Can't be arsed listening to you being mean to yourself. Especially when that's not how I see you and you know which is why you do it. You are trying to make me dislike you but it's not going to happen," he told me honestly. "There is no way you could ever get rid of me. Unless you broke my heart."
"I probably will," I said right away. "I was not made for relationships. Or for someone to love me."
"How do you know that?" he questioned me softly. He turned towards me as he propped his elbow up and leaned his head in the palm of his hand. His other arm rested on my legs that were over his side. I couldn't believe we were just chilling on my floor. Thank god for floor heating. "How many relationships have you had that you think this?"
"One. It ended bad though. It just put me off of wanting to get close to anyone ever again. In that sense, especially. The fact that people have the power to make you feel so happy one minute then completely crush you the next is terrifying and I don't want to go through that again."
"Talk to me about this... what happened?"
"He just said I wasn't it for him anymore... he cheated, too. Well, I didn't know until we broke up."
"Are you serious?"
"Why would I lie about that?" I scoffed.
"No... I just- that's not what I assumed... I just can't believe someone would cheat on you."
"Why?" I asked. "It happens to so many people. Guess I was lucky enough to be in that selection."
"It's just... you're pretty cool, you know? And like... whoever you were with before had the chance to know you. A version of you that's not so closed off and so work focused. I mean I'm not trying to offend you... I just- well, I'm just trying to say that they are crazy for treating you like that. I know I wouldn't- I mean... they are just stupid. You're better off without them."
"I guess... I don't know. I thought I loved him and he would be there to watch me build my company," I sighed as my thoughts got the best of me. Styles listened to me and didn't interrupt, even though he could have. "Is it... is it bad that I miss him sometimes?"
His face fell a little at my confession and not going to lie, it did make me feel a little uncomfortable. I never said this out loud before. Now it seemed so... real. But in my heart, I didn't feel it. I thought I did. Then again, it might have been the thought of him.
"Suppose it's understandable... I mean, isn't he the only one you've been with? His affection might be something you miss. Or the times you've spent together."
"It's been ages, though... that's what makes me think I'm pathetic. He is probably so over me by now. I don't even think he was ever like... into me, I guess. Maybe I was the only one who was into him and that's why I thought he felt the same. Because I made myself believe he was. Like, fuck, he so easily went and fucked someone else. That just shows how little he cared for me."
"How did you find out he fucked someone else?" he asked me quietly. I kept my eyes on the ceiling as I played with my fingers. Through this, I felt his run up and down my shin softly. Even though it was through my leggings, it burned my skin in a nice way.
"I really don't know... I just heard? No one told me directly. It kind of slipped. I reckon I wasn't supposed to find out because we were all drunk and at a club. It was actually the night of my last exam for my master's. We all went out to celebrate that and I was so happy... and then it felt like my whole world came crashing down on me. One second, I thought this was going to be it. These people around me... they will be my life-long friends and all. God, how could I be so fucking stupid?" my voice sounded a bit rough, definitely quieter than before. I cleared my throat to get rid of the knot in the middle and closed my eyes when I felt it burn a little.
I wasn't about to cry over those people.
"Those people... were your friends, yeah?"
"I thought they were but they all kind of lied, you know? I have always had trouble making my own friends so they were all his friends. Of course, they covered for him and his sloppy seconds and thirds and fourths and god knows how many people he slept with," I told Styles as we continued to lay on the floor. This was very different. But I kind of liked it.
"That's terrible."
"Yeah... I, like, never shame people. Like, if my ex got with some other girl, I wouldn't be mean to her, you know? I wouldn't tell her how shit he is in bed or how annoying he is or what he did to me or whatever. Like, he is no longer my problem to deal with. So, when I said sloppy seconds and stuff, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I just... it feels weird, I guess. I mean those girls probably knew he was taken because we were-, I mean, he was always known. And these girls were around when I was and they had no shame when they showed their face. They just... smiled," I forced a quiet laugh as I shared even more of what was going through my head. Which was sort of nice.
Styles was the first person who I have opened up to about this. He was the only person who truly knew what happened.
I kept it from my parents and my brother. They never really asked, they just let me be and deal with my stuff. Not even my therapist could get much out of me and since it felt useless to go, I just told my parents it wasn't working for me and they stopped making me go.
"I didn't think you were judgemental. You definitely don't come across like that," he said as he gripped my leg a bit and then went back to gently caressing it. That was so strange. I really liked his touch. I didn't mind it. "As for those girls... what they have done is just wrong. If they really knew your ex was taken, they shouldn't have given in. Not that they are the only ones to blame because your ex should have controlled his dick and strange need to fuck someone else and instead went to you for sex."
"Maybe I'm not good enough when it comes to that kinda stuff? I mean he never really... I don't know. Maybe my body is just not for sex? I don't know."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well... there were a few times he told me it was way too hard to get me off? Like he said it was annoying how he couldn't just finger me for like two minutes and have me cum. And like, you know how I was during uni... always pissed and stuff... so like, I was down to have sex with him but he wasn't so happy about having to use condoms. I, um, I could never really down those pills, it messed a lot with my weight and mood swings and I, uh, I kind of went through a dark time with it whilst I was in secondary and college. At first, they worked for my period but then it just went downhill so I stopped taking them- sorry, you probably don't care..."
"No, I mean yes. I do," he interrupted me. "I do care. You can talk about anything, I'll listen."
"Oh," I replied quietly. "So, uh, because he had to be the one to be cautious and stuff, he sometimes turned me down. Which I was cool with because he could be really rough with me. And stuff happened by then so when he was a bit firmer with me... those times didn't really bring good memories back, either."
"You don't really make him sound good, you know," he chuckled to lighten the situation. It got deep real fast. I was kind of grateful he didn't ask about what I described as 'stuff happened' because I wasn't sure I would be able to talk about that too.
"No, I mean he was good. I thought he was amazing at the time. Now and towards the end, I did sense that he was off a bit but I couldn't quite work it out and then when I knew what was going on, he just became ugly as fuck. Both physically and like, overall."
"How long have you been with him then?"
"Five years. We literally passed the fifth mark and then a month later I found out he had been cheating for a year and a half."
"Fucking hell... were you having sex then still?"
"Oh, yeah," I laughed. "I didn't even notice anything. He never had any hickies, he never smelled of women, he never came around after he fucked them and never let me believe there was anyone else," I said. I really did not notice anything. He was kind of a pro.
"That's so fucked, oh my god. What about I love you's and stuff?"
"He told me loved me and like I don't know. He may have loved me once but definitely not during the last part of us being together."
"You deserve so much better, Renleigh. Jesus. He sounds like such a fucking wanker."
"Oh, he definitely wanked a lot," I laughed. "The amount of times I walked in on him with his dick all out... god, his reasoning was always to do with me. You're too tired. You're too busy studying. You're never in. When, in fact, I spent most of my time with him and on my knees. I guess he just wanted too much."
"Thank godness he's no longer in your life."
"Let's hope he never sways his hips back in, either," I mumbled with a sigh as the conversation regarding my ex ended.
• • •
a.n.
oof there we go. one little part of ren's past is out although obviously, there is more to the ex lover and we will get to that as the story goes on 🤝
also excuse me for any typos, i just skim read the chapter cos i'm sister sick n lowkey wanna end my shit lmfao
don't forget to vote & comment as always x