song: Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison
play when you see the *
Harry left about 30 minutes after Jenny left. He made me some eggs (after I had to teach him how to use the stove). It's a bit weird how sweet he's being, I am so used to him being closed off and a bit passive aggressive, but he's been being very nice.
My mind still can't wrap around everything that happened with Dylan. Three weeks ago we were fine, and then the second Harry walked into my life everything flipped. As much stress and pain Dylan made me go through, I don't regret it. I'm glad Harry came into my life, I haven't exactly figured out what we are yet, but I want to. Although he can be an arrogant son of a bitch sometimes, he's made me happy.
The week that I spent with him on that road trip is the most alive I've felt without anyone's input.
I base my happiness on how much others approve of me. I've been doing it since I was a little girl. If someone doesn't like something about me, I will work my ass off to change it. I've always lived to please other people, it's part of the reason I love being a singer. When a whole stadium of people is cheering for you, it gives me that satisfaction that makes me happy.
But— I've learned over time I can't base all my joy from other people. And Harry showed me it's possible to find happiness without having to sing a song about a broken heart. That night on the roof when I smoked his cigarette for the first time, or when we sang together in the car, when we went swimming in the middle of the night, all of those times proved to me that I don't need others approval to be happy.
Harry showed me that without even trying, and I adore him for it.
I didn't mean to find myself attached to Harry, it just happened. He has this magnetic force to him that just pulls you and pulls you closer until you're stuck.
Harry and I are going to pick up Jenny's nephews from school at 2:00, so I should probably get dressed. I pick myself up off the couch that I've been on for the past hour, and make my way towards my bedroom.
I decide to take a shower, I probably need to wash my hair. I walk into my bathroom and look at my reflection in the mirror. I look like shit. The bruises on my jaw and neck were turning purple, and my lip was a little swollen. My hair was tangled and almost matted, and I had very prominent bags under my eyes. I'm fucking exhausted, and it definitely shows.
I walk over to my shower and turn it on, letting the water adjust to the right temperature. I strip of my clothes and stick my hand under the water to check the temperature before stepping in. The water runs down my scalp and down my back, immediately easing my muscles. I grab the shampoo and run it through my hair, repeating the same steps with the conditioner. I then wash my body and my face, being very gentle around my bruises. I finish by shaving my legs and turning the water off. I wrap a towel around my self before stepping out into the foggy bathroom.
I dry myself off, wrapping my hair up into the towel and grabbing a different one to wrap my body. I decide to put on some light makeup, going with the usual concealer and mascara. Except this time I get some extra foundation and concealer, and cake it on to all my bruises, trying my best to cover it.
I let my hair down from the towel and blow dry it. I brush it though, and decide not to really do much with it, leaving it just flow down my back.
I walk into my room and to my dresser to pick out an outfit. I find some denim shorts and a white silk tank top, tucking it into the shorts and matching it with a fashionable brown blazer. I slip on Doc. Martins, finishing my outfit.
Usually I don't like to go through social media. I don't like seeing pictures of myself or seeing articles about me and my dating life. Most of the time the articles are just bullshit and don't even make sense. But— was that picture of Harry and I at the hotel all over the internet?
How did Dylan get it? I haven't seen anything about it— and usually when something like that is released about me James will contact me, and let me know. But I haven't heard anything about it.
I open up my computer and go to Twitter, my least favorite social media app to look at. It's probably the most toxic platform there is, but it's also a good place to find rumors about yourself. I go to my hashtag and scroll through the pictures.
As soon as I look at them, my whole feed is covered with pictures of Harry and I. Not just of pictures of us at the hotel— they were everywhere.
Pictures of us walking down the street, pictures of us in the diner we went to, us walking into the recording studio. They were everywhere.
When were these pictures taken? I swear I didn't see anyone taking in photos.
Usually celebrities have this sixth sense kinda thing, where they can tell if someone is taking their photo. I know it sound silly, but it's true. Someone could be a mile away and I would know that my photo was being taken. How did I not notice someone taking these photos? And why did James not call me about it?
I shut my computer out of anger and stress and throw it onto the couch cushion next to me. I don't even want to bother looking at all the headlines right now. People are already probably fucking planning Harry and I's wedding. It sucks.
Being as 'famous' as I am, it's hard to be in a relationship. Everyone is constantly watching everything you do, and always trying to figure out who your dating, or who your crushing on. It's exhausting— I can barely even go out to eat with someone without people assuming we are dating. It was hard enough dating Dylan, so I can't imagine how complicated things might be with Harry.
Harry and I aren't dating— no, he's made it clear he doesn't date. In fact, I have no idea what we are. We kissed what? Like twice? Who knows, it could mean nothing.
But, I can't help but wonder what Harry was talking about last night. I honestly didn't even mean to ask him if he had been in love, it just kinda slipped out. And I definitely wasn't expecting him to answer it. I honestly thought he was going to get all defensive and leave. But, he admitted it, he told me he has been in love. And whoever it was broke him.
It clearly couldn't have been recent, because if you look on basically any Hollywood Topic website, Harry is with a different girl every week. So if he was in love with this girl I wouldn't assume he was going out with another girl all the time.
I decide to push my thoughts aside— not wanting to stress myself out. I still have several hours until Harry comes by so we can pick up Jenny's nephews, so I decide to just flip through the tv channels.
I go through about twenty different channels until I finally see Gossip Girl playing on one of them, and just leave it on that.
Hours later I hear a loud knock on my door, immediately making me jump up out of my spot. I hesitantly walk over to the door, considering what happened last night I wanted to be careful.
I look through fish eye lens peaking hole to see Harry on the other side of the door, looking down at the ground. I quickly unlock the door and swing it open, causing Harry to shoot his head up.
"Hi." I smile up at him.
"Hi." He greets me, his lips curling up into a smile as he walks into my apartment. I step to the side, letting him walk through the door frame.
"Long time no see." I joke, closing the door behind him and locking it. He walks over to my kitchen, opening the fridge and scanning his eyes through it.
"Do you uh... do you need something?" I ask, confused as to why he was going through my fridge.
"You got any alcohol?" He asks, turning his head around to look at me.
"Oh wow—" I say surprised by his question, "I'm good how are you Harry? You're thirsty? Oh sure you can have something to drink." I joke, making him chuckle a little before turning his attention back to the fridge.
"Sorry I just—" he starts, closing the fridge door and the rummaging through all my cabinets. Does he think he owns the place or something?
"Ah!" He says, opening the liquor cabinet to reveal a bottle of vodka. A large smile creeps up on his face he starts untwisting the top.
"Harry you can't drink right now! It's 1:30 in the afternoon and we are about to go pick up Jenny's newphews." I say, walking over to him and snatching the bottle from his hands, making him pout.
"That's the point—" he says, reaching to my hand and taking the bottle back. He quickly unscrews the top and takes a big swig of the vodka. I scrunch my face up at the sight, his throat must be on fire.
"If we are going to have to be around kids I need something to ease my mind. I fucking hate kids." He says before taking another shot of the alcohol.
I quickly take the bottle from him and walk over to the sink, flipping the bottle upside down and letting the liquid poor down, turning to face Harry as I do so. He had annoyed look on his face watching me waste away all this liquid.
"What the hell!" He says, making me smile a little.
"I'm not letting you get drunk before we go pick up kids from school." I laugh, shaking the last bit of the liquid out of the bottle before tossing it in the trash.
"That was perfectly fine Vodka. You could've saved it." He says, shaking his head.
"God— it's probably twenty years old. I stole it from my parents place when I moved out." I say, walking into my room to gather all my things.
"Oh shit— am I gonna die?" Harry says, making me let out a loud laugh.
"Probably." I joke, grabbing a small black backpack off of my dresser and stuffing my things into it.
I throw my phone, wallet, hair brush, and a couple hair ties into the small bag before sipping it up and flipping it over my shoulder.
"Now c'mon, we don't want to be late." I tell Harry, walking past him and towards the door. He follows behind me, making sure to keep his head down as we walk out of my apartment.
My apartment actually had a decent amount of other celebrities living in it, it's like that one complex in New York that all the famous people stay in. Half the time they aren't even here, but they do stay here when they're visiting New York.
We walk through my apartment complex and into the lobby, making our way to the parking garage. We caught a couple of glances from people, probably recognizing us, but luckily nobody stopped us and asked for a picture. Harry and I hurriedly make our way through the parking garage, and I eventually spot my familiar yellow Volkswagen bug. I run towards, it and lean over the hood of the car, hugging it.
I haven't seen it since I left for the road trip.
"This your car?" Harry says, walking over to me and smirking. I look up at him, but keeping my grip on the hood of the car.
"This is my baby. My prized possession. The love of my life." I say, closing my eyes and kissing the top of the car before stepping away and unlocking it. I hear Harry chuckle beside me before walking over to the passenger side and climbing in.
"It's nice— but not as nice as mine." He teases, feeling the leather of the seat and taking in the interior.
"Yeah, yeah whatever." I roll my eyes in a joking manner before starting the car and driving out of the parking garage.
The car ride to the school was pretty quiet. We didn't talk much. I think we were both avoiding the elephant in the room, which was the discussion of— us.
Neither of us dared to bring up the big question, which was what we were. I think it's because neither of us know. I just got out of a relationship, and one that ended on very bad terms. And Harry has made it clear he doesn't date. And hell, maybe that kiss meant nothing to him.
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a knock on the car window and see little Sam and John waiting outside with their backpacks strapped on them. I unlock the back doors and watch them crawl in, smiling in awe.
"Sam! John!" I exclaim, watching them get in the backseat and buckling in.
"Hi Olivia!" Sam smiles up at me, showing off one his front teeth missing.
"Oh my gosh! You lost a tooth!" I smile, making him laugh.
"He got a dollar from the tooth fairy." John chimes in.
"Impressive." I say before turning back around and starting to drive out of the school parking lot.
"Who are you?" Sam asks Harry, tapping on his shoulder from the backseat. Harry immediately tenses up and scoots forward so Sam couldn't reach his shoulder.
"Who are you?" Harry says. I immediately nudge him with my elbow and mouth a 'be nice' to him.
"Sam. This is my brother John." He says, not phased at all by Harry's attitude.
"Ok." Harry says, keeping the conversation short and glueing his eyes to the road.
"What's your name?" Jon asks, making Harry roll his eyes before turning back around to look at them.
"Harry, my names Harry." He says, clearly annoyed. God this man is horrible with kids.
"Oh like hairy. Like I have a hairy head." Sam jokes making John let out a loud laugh. I smirk to myself as I notice Harry's annoyed facial expression.
"No. Like the name Harry." Harry corrects them, folding his arms to his chest. I can't help but laugh a little, making Harry's head shoot to me.
"Ok, sure hairy." John laughs, making Harry roll his eyes.
The rest of the car ride went by smoothly. It mainly consisted of the boys talking in the back and Harry trying his best not to be in a pissy mood. When we get back the apartment, the boys run inside but Harry and I stay in the doorway.
"I should probably go..." Harry says, scratching the back of his head. I frown in disapproval.
"Oh c'mon— stay. It'll be fun. We can cook and watch a movie. They won't be here long." I say, referring to the kids.
"Are you sure? I'm just not very good with kids." He says, looking down at his feet. I smile a little before punching him playfully in the shoulder.
"Just don't let them get into the liquor cabinet and we'll be fine." I smile before walking into the apartment. Harry follows behind me and closes the door behind him.
"You guys want to watch something on tv?" I ask the boys who were both sitting on the couch.
"Why does your boyfriend talk weird?" Sam asks, making both Harry and I's eyes go wide.
"He's umm— he's not my boyfriend." I correct the seven year old.
"Ok... but why does he talk weird?" Sam continues, making Harry fold his arms across his chest and tilt his head to the side.
"What do you mean I talk weird?" Harry asks, getting defensive.
"You say stuff different." John says, folding his arms across his chest too, mocking Harry's stance. I laugh to myself a little as I watch the seven year old and the grown man bicker.
"No I don't." Harry says.
"Yes you do." Sam mocks Harry in a British accent, making me let out a loud laugh. Immediately Harry's face shoots to mine and gives me a 'really?' look. I quickly change my facial expression to a more serious one and bring my hand up to my mouth to hide my small smile.
"Whatever." Harry scoffs before plopping himself down on the opposite side of the couch from the boys, trying his best to stay as far away as possible.
"What's this shit show anyways?" Harry says, looking at the tv.
"This shit show is Mickey Mouse." John says, making me gasp and try to hold back my laughter.
"Shit— don't say that ." Harry says.
I chuckle to myself before shaking my head and turning around towards the kitchen. "I'm going to make some pasta." I tell the boys, walking into the kitchen.
They all yell back ok, and I smile to myself before starting to make the food. It's nice having Harry here. I know he probably didn't really want to be here, but it's nice.
I start to make the food, boiling the pasta and sitting on the kitchen counter as I wait for it to cook. After several minutes Harry comes barging in, walking straight up to me and standing in between my legs, a serious look on his face.
"Is something wrong?" I ask, staring at him with a confused face.
"Those kids—" he says, pointing his hand to the kitchen door that he just barged into, "those kids won't stop asking questions." He says, making me laugh a little.
"Just turn something good on tv." I say, shaking my head. It was kinda funny to see Harry so annoyed by seven years olds.
"I've tried! They keep saying 'oh that's boring.' or 'oh i've seen this already.'" Harry says, clearly stressed about this.
"I don't know what to tell you. Just find something entertaining to do. Like— a card game or something." I say, hopping down from the counter and walking over to the stove that had the boiling noodles on it.
**PLAY SONG**
Harry groans before stomping out of the kitchen and back into the living room, making me laugh.
It goes quiet for a couple minutes, and I begin to think they finally found something on tv until I hear a guitar strumming.
I immediately stop my movements and turn my head to the kitchen door in shock. Harry was playing the guitar for the kids.
"Hey where did we go? Days when the rain came. Down in the hollow, playing a new game." Harry sings out, making me widen my eyes. I mean— I know he's a singer but I would've never expected to hear him singing to seven year old boys.
Not to mention, he was singing Brown Eyed Girl.
"Our hearts are thumping and her, my brown eyed girl." He sings out. I feel my heart flutter at the words, and I quietly walk over the kitchen door, cracking it open a little.
I smile at the sight in front of me. Harry was sitting on the edge of the couch, strumming on my guitar as the kids sat on the floor and watched him in awe.
"Standing in the sunlight laughing. Hiding behind a rainbows wall. Slipping and a sliding, all along the waterfall with you, my brown eyed girl." He sings the last line, looking up at me in the door way, the biggest smile on his face.
CUTEEE.
just wanted to let you all know, i started another harry fanfic called Stuck Together. i am going to try to post the first chapter either tonight or tomorrow, so make sure to stay updated.
also, stuck together is going to be much more 'dark' with heavier topics. so read at your own risk.
(i'll still be updating rising stars much more often the stuck together, just for yall who were afraid i was going to forget about rising stars :)
vote and comment! <3