It took drinking a gallon of water, some ice, and a facial but the swelling in my eyes from crying is finally gone. Well, mostly. Last night was a restless night even though I was exhausted. My mind kept contemplating what is true, and what the right thing to do is. There's a knot in my stomach that has existed for months now, but at this moment it feels all consuming.
As I sit in my New York hotel room starting to get ready it makes me nostalgic for my last trip here. The last time I was in the city I was at Harry's apartment, but now I'm sheltered in a standard hotel room, overlooking the bustling west side.
"You're quiet today," Mario remarks, clicking off the hair dryer. He sets it on the countertop and begins brushing it through my hair gently. Sometimes when he stands behind me, massaging my scalp with the bristles, it feels like he's my fairy godmother. I'd say godfather but I'm pretty sure he'd prefer mother.
"Just tired it all... I didn't sleep well last night," that's most of the truth at least. Mario inspects my face through my reflection in the mirror before going back to my hair.
"It has to do with that Styles boy, doesn't it?"
"Does everything have to be about him?" I ask. It feels like that's all anyone has to talk to me about anymore. I'm half tempted to call Harper, suddenly preferring the company of four year olds. I'd much rather talk about Peppa Pig or a princess dress right now.
"I never liked him anyways," Mario states while sectioning off a piece of my hair. He has a serious expression on his face, and it makes a smile creep to mine.
"That's a bold faced lie, Mario! You were gushing all over him. I'm pretty sure if he proposed to you right now you would say yes," I tease. Mario gets a goofy grin on his face, trying to hide his face shyly.
"Do you think I have a chance with him now that he's single?" He asks eagerly. It actually gets a laugh out of me. Everyone always feels like they have to tiptoe around the subject, but being able to joke about it feels good.
"Mario! Stop it, no you don't." He looks offended for a moment, pulling the curling iron away from my head.
"Remember who's holding the hot tools before you insult me," he challenges before going back to work, "at least I know he must be bad in bed. There's no way the boy is good at everything."
I don't respond, but I can feel my cheeks reddening. Mario stops what he's doing, his mouth agape. He lets out a dramatic gasp, setting the curling iron back on the counter and gripping my arms tightly. "He is not! Ohmygod, you lucky bitch! Have you thought about having breakup sex? I'm sure that would just add something to it."
I chuckle before answering him, "No and I'm not going to. I don't need all that stuff clouding my judgment."
"Oh, so his dick is that good? I think that means you have to, I would die for something like that. Just absolutely knock your pussy out like fight night."
"Mario! Get it together my man. It's not happening," I laugh, unable to make myself be serious, "but sometimes I wish it would happen," I smirk. Mario screams and jumps up and down once, tugging my hair. It only makes me laugh harder.
"You dirty bitch! If you do you have to give me all the details. I need to live vicariously through you, it's been a dry season over here honey I'll tell you that." Mario's mind clearly drifts to another place for a moment while he finishes curling the underlayer of my hair. I feel exponentially better, finding myself engaging in conversation willingly. I need to start taking Mario with me everywhere.
"How heavy is this dress?" I ask Annabelle, holding the top against my chest while she literally sews me into it. Just holding up the top is an arm workout, the rest of the fabric pooling around my legs. Annabelle takes the pin out of her mouth, narrowing her eyes on a spot near my ribcage.
"Heavy," she says simply, eliciting an eye roll from me, "but you're going to be grateful. It's winter in New York and you're about to be outside in a strapless dress." She makes a point. I stand as still as possible while she continues working on keeping the dress up. Once the dress is secure and definitely not going anywhere, she steps back assessing her work.
"Scoop your boobs," she tells me, hands on her waist, head cocked.
"What?"
"Pull your boobs up so your cleavage is better," she explains, watching me as I reach my hand down the navy dress pulling everything upwards. It's actually pretty impressive how full it makes me look.
"Always outdoing yourself Annabelle," I compliment doing a spin in the mirror.
I put in the pair of earrings as Josh touches up my lipstick, the last five minutes a rush as always. Robbie comes in to grab me, waving me out of the room while I jump into my heels. Annabelle trails behind me, holding my dress up so it doesn't get dirty dragging across the floor. When we get to the hotel lobby I notice Harry with his own team of people surrounding him, waiting for a car.
"Harry's staying here?" I ask in confusion, looking to Robbie for an answer.
"Of course, you guys have to show up together," he puts his hand on my back, guiding forward, "don't forget, chin up shoulders back, hon."
Harry and I awkwardly wave hello before we're ushered into a black SUV to take us to the event. The car hardly moves, the New York traffic as hectic as always. I really just want to get the night over with, and the feeling of being stuck makes me anxious. I stare out the window, focusing on my breathing while the rest of the team chats excitedly.
Instinctively, Harry grabs my hand that sits in my lap, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles like he always does when he can tell I'm nervous. When I look down at his ring clad fingers, he pulls his hand back clearing his throat.
"Sorry... um just a habit. I'll just- sorry." He says quietly, twisting his ring while he stares straight ahead. I lean away from him, resting my shoulder against the cold window until we get to the event.
Once the door is opened and I'm helped out of the car, I reach for Harry's hand and put my smile on. There are cameras flashing from every angle, all eyes on us. I'm sent ahead to take some on my own before Harry meets back with me in the middle, sliding his arm around my waist.
"Your teeth are chattering, love," he states, leaning into my ear. I'm sure the media will eat this up, thinking he's whispering sweet nothings to me.
"It's fine, we'll be inside soon," I say through my clenched jaw. My entire upper body is covered in goosebumps, and Annabelle was right, I am thankful that this dress is heavy enough to keep my lower body somewhat warm.
Once we reach the end of the carpet, Harry stands behind me rubbing my arms to warm them as we walk into the corridor outside of the theater. I almost brush his hands off but remember that we're supposed to be dating. Besides, I'm grateful for anything that will stop the hypothermia I'm pretty sure has struck me.
Stepping into the space a familiar face stops me in my tracks. I'm pretty sure I can feel my heart in my throat as Harry runs into me, not prepared for the sudden stop. My blood is boiling and I begin searching for the first person I can find who can possibly give me an explanation.
"Are you good, love? You look pale," Harry asks, pressing the back of his hand to my cheek. I ignore his question, marching straight up to Robbie. Harry hurries behind me, looking around confused.
"What the fuck is he doing here?" I ask Robbie through gritted teeth. He politely excuses himself from whoever he was talking to, leading me by the elbow away from the crowd of people.
"He did the soundtrack for the film. I'm going to need you to calm down, sweetie. Not a good look if you're angry," Robbie remarks, looking around to make sure nobody can hear us. Harry's green eyes dart between us, desperately trying to understand what's happening.
"Don't tell me what to do. Why wasn't I notified about this? Someone should have told me," I glare at Robbie.
"Quite frankly because I knew you'd behave like this, and we needed you to walk down that carpet," Robbie responds gruffly. I know this man is always just doing his job, but I wish that just once he could think of me as a person and not an investment.
"I filed a sexual assault complaint about him not even two years ago! And you thought I didn't deserve to know?" I ask bitterly. I keep my voice low, not wanting to cause a scene, but my tone tells Robbie everything he needs to know. Harry rests his hand on the center of my back, a clear sign of his support.
"Can someone please explain to me what's going on?" Harry asks from his place beside me. Before I can explain, a pair of dark eyes are piercing mine, a cocky grin on his face.
"Harry, meet Jesse."
Jesse leans forward for a hug but I tuck myself under Harry's arm, trying to get as far away from him as possible in this small space. Jesse recovers quickly, putting his hands in his pockets casually, "Lilian, always a pleasure. You look beautiful as always," he compliments.
"You look as douchey as ever," I say with a fake smile, trying to match his smirk. Jesse laughs it off, looking at Harry.
"Always been a spit fire, this one. I'm sure she's a thrill to have in bed," he leans into Harry as he says the words, like it's a secret between them, one that I'm not supposed to hear.
"Fuck off, Jesse," I roll my eyes as I say the words, taking a step so I can walk away. Harry stands firm though, one arm holding me to his side, the other clenching and unclenching into a fist. His face is even, but I can feel the way his breaths have deepened.
"You know this is pretty typical," Jesse says lightly, eyes shooting between Harry and I, "Lilian going from one singer to the next. It seems she has a type.. Or maybe you just can't get over me so you had to settle for this fag to play pretend." he winks.
Harry takes a step forward and I grab his arm to stop him, pulling him back next to me. He looks down at me, and even now we can still communicate without words. 'Are you sure?' he's asking me, and I nod my head once to show him that it's okay. This is Jesse's game, he lives to get a rise out of people.
"Well Jess, you're just as great as I remember you. Unfortunately I have to go literally anywhere else, but uh, if you're really that desperate to get your dick wet then I'd suggest checking the open bar," I grab Harry's hand, desperate to make my escape.
"It was nice to meet you, man," Jesse says to Harry as we begin to walk away. Harry looks back to him, waving over his shoulder, "wish I could say the same, mate."
"Bloody hell," Harry murmurs to me once we create a safe distance, "Are you okay?" Even with him out of vision I still feel tense. I have never despised anyone more than that man making his way back through the crowd, blissfully unaware of what a shitty human he is.
"I need a drink," I respond, rubbing my temple. Harry immediately tracks down a waiter, handing me a flute of champagne. I almost drink it all in one go, pretty sure it's the only thing to get me through this night.
Having to sit next to Harry for the whole movie is absolutely miserable. The editing is beautifully done, the story is well told, but all of it is just a constant reminder of how things once were, and what I lost. Tonight things almost feel normal, but they're not. And seeing what normal once was hurts. It all feels exhausting.
When the credits finish rolling and we get back into the corridor, everyone decides to go to a bar down the block, including Jesse who's leading the pack. I straighten myself out, mentally preparing for the night still ahead.
"We can get out of here if you'd rather. We don't have to go out," Harry tells me. I shake my head no, knowing that going somewhere with him might be a bad idea.
"No, it's okay. We should go, I'll just ignore Jesse. It'll be fine," I smile up at him, but I know it's unconvincing. The thought of being stuck in another enclosed space with Jesse makes me cringe, and on top of all of that I'm exhausted from not sleeping the past two days.
"Lil, I can tell you checked out a long time ago. My apartment is right over there, we can make it look like we're going and then just go into a different building," I look at him skeptically, not sure if he's implying something. It's like he can read my mind, "Okay I realize how that might have sounded, but nothing like that. We just watch a movie or something. I don't want to be around that awful guy either."
As soon as I enter Harry's apartment I plop down on the couch, my dress taking up most of the space. Tilting my head back I let my eyes close, grateful for the reprieve. I can hear Harry walking around the apartment, wandering in and out of rooms, doors opening and closing.
"Um, I figured you might want out of that dress," he says shyly from the other end of the room, "I left some clothes on the guest bed if you'd like." He fidgets with his hands, and I offer him a small smile to let him know I appreciate it. His face instantly relaxes, my favorite dimples showing slightly.
After a lot of tugging, I finally manage to get myself out of the constricting dress and into the pair of gray sweats and black hoodie. Harry waits in the kitchen, a kettle on the stove. "Tea?" he asks me, raising a mug in the air. I nod my head and slide into one of the barstools as he slides the steaming glass towards me.
"I understand if you don't want to, but um... I was hoping that we could talk. And actually talk, not have a teary yelling match," he says the words lightly, but I can hear the pain behind his voice.
"Sure... I guess- I guess that's fair."
"What I did to you really wasn't fair. And I don't even deserve to have you treating me as well as you are right now... But- I learned a lot from what happened and I know that I can be a better person and a better partner. I don't deserve it, but I really want to give this another try." I try to think before I respond, wanting to articulate my feelings the best I can.
"Harry I'm not angry with you, but I still am hurt. And no matter what happens, I think I'll always have a soft spot for you, but how do I know that I can trust you? How can I be sure that everything is okay when you won't tell me if something isn't okay?" I know we said that this wouldn't be a teary yelling match, but I can't stop the wells forming in my eyes. I want it to be that easy, to just say okay and pretend that nothing ever happened, but it did happen.
"Just give me time... I can- I'll prove it to you. We can take things slow if you want, whatever you need. I love you, Lil... and I want to prove that to you everyday," Harry says the words with conviction, grabbing my hands from across the counter. The tears begin to spill, running down my cheeks.
"That's the thing Harry... I don't have time." Harry's brow furrows, his eyes scanning every inch of my face.
"What do you mean?" He asks worriedly. I take one of my hands back, wiping my nose with the sleeve and brushing the tears off of my face. It's no use, they just keep coming.
"Because," I croak, "I accepted a role with Marvel. I'm moving to Atlanta for the next two years."
Harry stands in a stunned silence, his hand slacking in mine. He rakes his hand through his hair, pacing the kitchen. I don't know what to say to him, so instead I just tuck my feet up on the chair, hugging my knees to my chest.
"What if we... we can make it work, people do long distance all the time. What if we... fuck, Lilian," he stops his pacing, planting his hands on the countertop in defeat, his head hanging low.
"We both know that long distance doesn't work like that," I whisper, "I can't... I can't give up this opportunity. And you're going to be touring before we know it. We can't sustain a relationship like that when things are already rough. I think... I think we just need the break."
Harry nods his head slowing, and when he finally looks up fresh tears are forming in his eyes, making them look greener than ever. "So what now? I don't know where to go from here," his hoarse voice sounds desperate, and it makes my heart hurt even more.
"I can leave if you want me too... But to be honest I'd really like a normal night with you. And we can pretend that none of this bullshit exists for a couple hours. And then... I think one day we'll learn to love each other from afar and be friends. Cause I could really use you as a friend right now," I can barely get the last sentence out before I begin crying harder, my whole body shaking.
Harry wraps his arms around me where I sit in my little ball, pulling me against him. He strokes my hair, and every once in a while I'll hear him sniffle. "How about we just lay in bed and watch a movie then, yeah?"
I follow him upstairs, crawling into the middle of his familiar bed. Laying my head on his chest, I don't even bother to pay attention to what movie he chose. Instead I just let myself pretend that my whole world isn't changing, but rather it's seven months earlier and we're back in New York for the very first time.
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A/N: AHHHHHH okay on a real note I just want to thank everyone for showing this story love :,) seeing the votes and the comments makes me so happy and so motivated to keep writing! You are all super amazing. There are still quite a few chapters left but I can see the end coming and it makes me a little sad
Much love and thank you for 12k!