sam

Ava texted Harry to let him know she made it to the restaurant. She even apologized about the thing with her keys. There was even a heart emoji. Harry was spending the time she was out, face down on the sofa, trying not to scream. But it felt like he needed to. In fact, it felt like he needed to lay face down in traffic but obviously he couldn’t actually do that.

Harry’s conscience decided now was the time to give up on him. Maybe the little voice thought Harry was just simply too stupid to deal with right now. What was he even supposed to do? The voice in his head all but told him exactly what would happen. It tried to warn him. It was completely, totally Harry’s fault for fucking up so. Very. Badly.

Harry sat up about ten minutes before Ava was set to be home. He made a list on his phone of things he needed to do; there was no order to the list as the last item was probably most important…but his already broken, stupid mind didn’t have it in him to put it first, out in the open like that.

-Work portfolio -Gemma b-day present -Laundry -Tell Ava -Tell...

He didn’t want to finish the last sentence.

What were his options? 

He could tell Ava. But that ensured a blowout fight. They would probably break up. Would Ava leave? Technically Harry found this place. Naturally, she complained how her fifteen-minute commute to work was brutal every couple months (usually around holidays when the traffic would amplify to thirty minutes—not that she ever left a moment earlier to account for the time differential) and made sure to tell Harry that she didn’t like living here. 

But…Harry didn’t like the idea of breaking up. It felt like he was losing. Everyone had sympathetic eyes for him when Ava made him mad–especially in public. There goes the poor sap that can’t get out of a bad relationship. But it wasn’t bad. At least…it wasn’t always bad. Harry had to stay for a reason right?

What are those reasons? The voice of Harry’s heart was turning into his second conscience but almost entirely for the benefit of Harry’s happiness.

The sympathetic eyes would soon become I-told-you-so-eyes. That was the last thing Harry wanted. 

Maybe he needed to call Gemma. Gemma was like a compass. She always knew what to do to help her little brother and this might be the stupidest thing he had ever done. But he didn’t need to call her. He knew exactly what she would say. It’s not fair to you or Ava to be in a relationship that makes you both so unhappy. Gemma would be kind. She probably wouldn’t even say I told you so just to be nice.

But he would know.

He cheated. Plain as day. There was no if ands or buts. There was no way to deny it. No taking it back. He messed up.

But the little voice in charge of his heart wasn’t going down without a fight. This is a good thing. It insisted. You want to break up with Ava. You haven’t been happy in a while! Sunshine. You need Sunshine.

But Harry, now taking over for his conscience that abandoned him on the elevator ride back to their place, knew that it was easier said than done. It was way more complicated. Perhaps most importantly, it was so irreconcilably stupid on his part that despite how much he needed some sunshine in his life, he did it the very worst way possible.

Because even though what he did to Ava was despicable, the thought of hurting that sweet girl in the laundry room hurt his fragile heart even more.

*

Harry could hardly sleep beside Ava. He tossed and turned for the better part of the night. By the time six in the morning rolled around he was completely exhausted and restless. If he got four hours’ worth of sleep, he was lucky. It was Saturday. He wanted to sleep in. If he slept in, he wouldn’t have to deal with the shitty situation he got himself into for a while longer.

But instead, his restless mind was punishing his stupid behavior by making him wallow in it. Making him wake up at six in the morning on a Saturday so he could recognize his stupid, stupid mistake.

“Harry?” Ava sounded sleepy of course. “Y’okay, baby?” She asked.

Harry felt the warmth of her kind voice seeping through his whole body. Especially with the name baby on her lips.

Shit.

“M’fine, love,” he lied.

“S’early,” she slurred tiredly.

“Can’t sleep,” he shrugged, starting to roll out of bed. “I’ll go to the other room,” he mumbled. She frowned and Harry couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked when she wasn’t at his throat for every little thing. Her concern made him warm over a little more. The guilt he felt ached a little more.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Hope you feel better,” she murmured. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. It was like he was on autopilot. As if he had done it thousands of times before. It was moments like this, the quiet, gentle ones, that made him believe in the reasoning behind staying in a relationship that drove him crazy most days.

Moments like that made him understand he had to tell his laundry partner the bad news.

*

Ava wasn’t stupid.

She had a degree, a job, and two eyes that told her Harry was happy. Happier than he had seemed in a really long time.

Of course, his happiness didn’t involve her.

And that made her mad.

She wasn’t quite sure what had changed about Harry specifically; why he got so happy so suddenly. As far as she knew he went to work and came home. But with the way they argued and how irritated she felt just looking at Harry some days, she knew something was off in his demeanor.

It wasn’t that she wanted Harry to be unhappy. It was more of the fact that she was unhappy. Ava knew very well that misery loved company. Seeing him happy set off some kind of switch in her head that Harry was in fact her boyfriend and they were supposed to be happy. Seeing him get joy from something else, especially when she wasn’t part of it, irked her more than the way Harry snapped his gum while they watched TV or how he left socks outside the laundry basket and forgot to put the toilet seat down (consistently) late at night.

Harry was a wonderful boyfriend. He always had been from the moment they started dating. Her mom even teased him saying he was too good for Ava. Ava didn’t see it that way. Ava enjoyed her personality and herself and didn’t think anything needed to change. She didn’t see anything wrong with the way she behaved or acted—as her mom put it. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, and how she wanted.

Right now, she wanted Harry right where he was.

“Do you feel better now?” She asked him as she entered the sitting room.

“Yeah, a bit,” he nodded. “I’ll try t’nap later,” he shrugged as he continued reading the book in his hands without looking up.

She pressed a hand to his forehead. He wasn’t warm. He seemed fine. For a moment she gazed in his eyes and noted how green they looked. There was no denying Harry was beautiful—even though the constant fighting made her irritable with him. It was a face she fell in love with because he was so pretty. Soft skin, gentle smile, deep dimples. He was simply dreamy. Someone would have to be blind not to fall in love with him.

Part of her thought someone had fallen in love with him because of the way he looked so happy after the many months of the mutual feeling of misery that flooded their apartment. That simply wouldn’t do. 

It wouldn’t take much, she knew it. Harry was a romantic. A few gentle smiles, a bat of her eyelashes, and some light touches and Harry would be putty in her hands again.

His lips parted slightly like this was the first time he had seen her in ages. He didn’t know how to speak. It was so unlike her to worry about him even a little these days. In fact, it was so shocking, he thought he was transported to the laundry room and the gentle touch was coming from the girl that made his heart skip a beat and had the little voice in his head shouting to be heard.

“You don’t feel feverish or look very sick.”

Harry knew he wasn’t feverish. He knew he wasn’t sick either. Maybe lovesick. But that wasn’t something he could tell Ava.

Or maybe it should have been the exact time he told her.

“I can get you medicine if you want while I’m out,” she said softly.

“Oh...uh...thanks, love. That would be good, thank you,” the words felt weird in his mouth, he hadn’t thanked Ava for anything in ages. What was there to thank her for? Hours of worrying and fighting? “You’re going out?”

“Yeah...laundry at mom’s,” she reminded him.

“I could do your laundry y’know,” he offered quietly. He noted the way the slopes of Ava’s face curved so beautifully when she wasn’t scowling at him for the littlest of things. She was a beautiful girl. No question about it.

“I don’t like the way the washers make the clothes smell,” she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

It was as if a shadow cast over her at the very moment she spoke. A backhanded comment for sure—whether she meant it or not, knowing full-well that Harry washed all his clothes in the apartment washers. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Right,” he murmured. “Well, tell her I said hello,” he returned to his book.

She nodded silently. 

Returning down the hall, Harry thought it was awfully mature of her to ignore the eyeroll. It was an instinct and he knew he shouldn’t have, but it was hard to feel—

“The eye roll was unnecessary.”

Here we go. “Ava, y’know I do m’laundry down there. Y’basically said I smell.”

She returned the very same eye roll dropping the laundry bag at her feet. “Harry, I didn’t say that.”

“Y’may as well have,” he grumbled.

“It’s too early to argue.”

“M-hmm.”

She would be better later. It would take a lot of active reminders to not fight with him. Sighing, she headed out the door.

For a fleeting moment, she was Ava, the girl he loved and had dated for so long. The little bit of kindness she showed didn’t deserve Harry’s infidelity. It was all his fault and Ava wasn’t that bad.

So, Harry made his way to the laundry room, knowing he would find her there because it was Saturday morning, and it was her favorite time to do laundry—before anyone else was there.

Except Harry. She seemed to make every exception for Harry.

He hoped she would make one this time too.

*

“Hey munchkin,” she smiled sweetly as Harry got down to the laundry room. He didn’t tell Ava. He knew he should have. Of course, he should have. But there was something about the sunshine that lived in the laundry room that made his brain short circuit. There was something in the air that made him lose all train of thought. All rationality escaped him when he thought about this girl obsessed with The Wizard of Oz.

But it was a mistake on his part. He didn’t tell Ava. Especially after her kindness this morning. The kind of kindness that made him love her—like when they first started dating. Why didn’t he go after her?

“I have t’tell y’something,” Harry said. He looked exhausted. His eyes were red rimmed. His face paled as he spoke.

She frowned. “Uh...okay?”

They weren’t a couple. They weren’t even...anything. Maybe she could say they were friends. Harry owed her no explanations for anything. Maybe kissing was a bad idea. It would ruin their friendship. Or maybe it was worse…

He closed his eyes. “I have t’jus’ say it, Sunshine. But y’have t’let me explain.”

She felt totally rattled. It was obviously a mistake. Completely. Thank God they didn’t have sex in her apartment. Thank God he asked about the picture frame; that they spent nearly an hour talking about music, books, and recipes.

Thank God, they stopped. It was so obvious he regretted it. Was she a bad kisser? Maybe she could convince Niall to help her out. Niall had a lot more practice than she did. No, there was no way Niall would help her with something like that. He would get all grossed out. He would probably lie and tease her and say she was a terrible kisser regardless. Or maybe he–

“I have a girlfriend,” he whispered.

The words hung in the air for a moment in suspended animation. It was like the clocks had stopped ticking, the world stopped turning, the washing machines stopped spinning.

If she was attached to a machine, her brain would show zero activity.

No.

She felt her stomach turn violently and felt her whole body tingle with heat. Part of her thought she was going to throw up.

No, no, no, the voice in her head shouted. No. He’s supposed to be mine!

But there was no reason for her to think like that. Harry wasn’t hers. This was just proof of what she already knew back when she felt that connection to him so instantaneously. She knew he was too good to be true. Her voice stopped working. She wanted to cry but she didn’t want to do that in front of Harry. If she was going to have a breakdown, she couldn’t do it here. She left all her stuff and bolted past Harry, taking the steps two at a time to get away from him without even a word.

He hurried after her. “Kitten,” he cooed gently. She shook her head and continued running for the elevator, grateful it was there, open, when she got there. She rapidly pressed the button to shut the door, but Harry had much longer legs and trapped himself inside the small space before it closed the pair of them in. She turned to the back of the lift and pressed her forehead to the cool metal. “Kitten,” he tried again.

“No,” she sniffled. “No, you can’t call me that.”

“Sunshine, y’supposed t’let me explain.”

“Explain what exactly, Harry?”

He grabbed her arm. Immediately, she yanked it away from him with a shake of her head. “No, you can’t touch me.”

He ran a hand over his face, and she exited quickly as soon as the door was barely open enough to fit her through the space. Naturally, he followed her. “Please let me explain.”

She wheeled around so quickly Harry nearly bumped into her. “Explain what?” She whispered. If there was any more volume in her voice, she would lose complete control. She would cry. She would sob. She would lose any sense of herself because even though she was mad at Harry and how she had foolishly kissed him without knowing she was ruining some poor girl’s relationship because of their kiss...

She was selfishly thinking about how unfair it was that she couldn’t have him.

“Love.”

“Harry. Stop calling me names.”

Closing his eyes, Harry thought he might explode. This was so unfair. He was breaking her heart. All he wanted was to hold it in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?!” She gasped. “I...I don’t...I don’t even know what to say to you,” the tears were about to spill over her lash line. She couldn’t hold the emotions she was feeling much longer.

He dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn’t want to watch her cry. It felt private. Plus, it made him feel guilty that he was the cause. “If it means...anything. M’relationship isn't...good a lot of the time.”

She glared at him and his horrible betrayal. Of her trust. Of her belief in him. In hurting her reputation. “That’s not a reas—”

He put his hands up defensively. “I know, love. I know. S’not an excuse. M’jus’ trying t’give y’details. M’sorry. S’my fault. All my fault,” he promised. Harry felt like he would start crying if she did. “S’nothing...you didn’t do anything wrong,” he promised her. It was a little comforting that he seemed to know what she was feeling and maybe part of her was grateful that he knew she would feel so down on herself about it. “I lead you on. I made the mistake.”

It felt like Harry had taken a steak knife and stabbed it right through her heart with the word mistake coming from his mouth. She thought he would say it when he first entered the laundry room. But it felt so much worse hearing it out loud. Knowing truly why it was a mistake.

“I don’t think we should be around each other… for a while.”

Harry deflated, his face paling. “Love,” he whispered. “I know I messed up...I know...that...” he rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “I want to be friends.”

She wanted that too. She wanted more than that. “Sometimes we don’t get what we want, Harry,” she whispered quietly. “I’m sorry too.”

He deserved this. He didn’t even want to hear the I told you so his conscience was probably singing and dancing in the back of his mind. If he could focus on anything other than the terribly sad girl, and how his heart was breaking at the thought of not chatting with her over laundry. This hurt worse than any fight he had with Ava by a long shot.

That seemed like damning proof more than anything.

“Okay,” he murmured taking in her expression one more time. He wished it was happy. Somehow, some way. He wished he hadn’t broken her heart like this—even if her heart wasn’t his to break. He didn’t want the last time he saw her for a while, was her feeling sad and upset. But it was his fault. Completely. There was no question about it. “M’sorry, love,” he whispered.

She nodded. “Me too, Harry.”

God, he wanted her to call him munchkin. He wanted it to be okay. More than okay. He wanted it to be...different. If only he hadn’t fought with Ava. He would have told her. Telling Ava first meant that she would have screamed and yelled and left.

Harry could rationally explain the situation to the girl before him. Explain that it was bad. He wouldn’t get tongue tied. He wouldn’t get his ideas mixed up. He wouldn’t mess this up as well the way he messed up everything else.

“See you around...I guess...” he mumbled and backed toward the elevator.

“Bye, Harry,” she whispered as the elevator slid close.

*

She had to get her laundry but the idea of going down to that room made her nauseous. Once alone in the comfort of her apartment, she released the sobs she didn’t want Harry to see. There were so many things she needed to think about; she needed a list. A list of things to do. She typed them into her phone.

- Laundry - Pay bills - File paperwork - Harry’s…

It hurt to think about the end of that little chore. Taking deep breaths she closed her eyes and ignored the feeling of more tears that she wanted to fall.

Of course, he had a girlfriend. He was gorgeous, funny, sweet…why would he be single?

As much as she hated herself for hurting his relationship with someone else, she couldn’t help but think about how he mentioned his relationship was bad. The thought made her…sad. She couldn’t help it. The idea that someone as sweet as Harry was in a bad relationship wasn’t…fair. In school, she did rounds of different counseling methods and practices to see which ones she liked best. If she didn’t have her current job, she would strongly consider relationship therapy of some kind. The complexity of staying in a relationship that didn’t make sense was hard to navigate for anyone. She couldn’t imagine the stress and anxiety that Harry was going through on his own. Part of her wanted to recommend a therapist for him despite how he had changed her heart in the last hour.

I wouldn’t let our relationship be bad. She thought to herself.

Shut up. She whispered to the voice that was getting independent thought.

This was horrible.

The thoughts rolled through her head so quickly, she didn’t know what to deal with first. Laundry usually calmed her mind but she thought if she went down there she might go crazy. It wouldn’t be calming knowing they kissed in the very spot they had chatted for the last few months while Harry knowingly had a girlfriend. While they shared secrets, banter, recipes, and all things that people who flirt share.

She hated him.

No you don’t. The voice in her head sounded like it was rolling it’s eyes if it were capable.

But I want to hate him. She responded.

You don’t want to hate him either, you idiot.

Fortunately her phone rang with Niall’s picture taking up her screen. Good. Niall would ground her, help her.

“Hey princess,” he said softly.

That didn’t sound good. With an even heavier heart she swiped the tears away from her eyes, took a deep breath and frowned. “Oh, Ni, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“I…” he sighed. “You know how I was helping with the new office for those two weeks?”

Her heart dropped. She already knew. Part of her wished she didn't even finish the conversation. She knew where it was going. Lay on the heartache. The theme for the day. “Yeah…”

“They…can’t find anyone competent to run it.”

She closed her eyes. She couldn’t tell Niall. Not now. He had his own stuff to deal with and adding to his stress was the last thing she wanted to do. “So you’re competent now?” She asked lightly.

He chuckled softly, grateful that she could make him feel better. “Feels like the worst thing, darling.”

“How long?” It was the most important question. How long would she be without her best friend? How long would they be thousands and thousands of miles and plane rides away from each other? How long would he be gone? How long would she have to hide the horrible thing she did? The horrible thing Harry did? Niall would threaten to kill him. For hurting her heart. She knew it in her bones.

The silence was deafening. He didn’t want to say it. It was going to kill her.

“Just say it, Ni.”

“A year,” he whispered quietly. “Longer if they can’t find someone.”

Fortunately, she was already so heartbroken it was easy to combine her sadness of Harry and Niall together without Niall suspecting a thing. There was so much devastation in her head and heart in such a short amount of time. “A year?” She whispered.

“I’m sorry, princess.”

“What about…the missus?”

She listened to Niall’s deep sigh. “I haven’t told her yet…she can work from anywhere…so I’m hopeful. I wanted to tell you first.”

Her heart fluttered with so much love for her best friend. He told her first. She couldn’t tell him about Harry or the kiss. He would worry and change his career all for her and that wasn’t fair.

She already hurt one relationship today. She wouldn’t hurt another.

She needed a trip to the Emerald City like never before. She had to be brave and strong for him. It felt like she needed courage and a brain for not seeing so many obvious signs before. “Now I know I have a heart…because it’s breaking,” she whispered, quoting the Tin Man. She was going to need a heart too.

He chuckled. “Well m’gonna call every day,” he promised.

She nodded. “You better,” she sniffled and giggled. “When do you leave?”

“Next week.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. This was a good distraction. At least for a little while. “Well, we better make the most of it,” she whispered.

“M’glad you have Harry,” he said. Like a knife to the chest. “You can’t replace me with him, though.”

“Never,” she promised. She had to tell him something. “I…actually have some news on that front,” she sniffed.

“Oh princess,” he said, hearing the crack in her voice. “What happened?”

“He has a girlfriend,” she croaked.

“Oh, darling,” he cooed.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” she shrugged.

“M’sorry, still. I was…I mean…I still think he’s your soulmate. What kind of person quotes The Wizard of Oz like a lunatic?”

She smiled through her tears and nodded. “Yeah…”

“Let me talk to the missus. We’ll do dinner, yeah?”

“Please.”

“See you later, princess.”

What a twister of a day.

-

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @pandeebearstyles @st-ev-ie @lovrave

Love and Dryer Sheets: @love-letters-to-uranus

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)