#bb37

But the pain disappeared as soon as we pulled up outside our new home. I had never seen a building so inviting, and I had never been so excited about a house in my life. Our family home where I had grown up, had been the place we had lived since before I can even remember. Then, seeing the house that my mum and Liam had moved into wasn’t exciting at all. Looking up to the top floor of our halls when we had moved in exactly a year ago, had been more daunting that anything else. This was the first time I had looked at a building that was my home, and was truly excited. “Do you think Harry’s already here?” Zayn asked, turning off the engine. “I dunno.” I unbuckled. “Let’s go find out.” Words will never precisely define how eager I was to see Harry. I wasn’t thinking about telling him I liked him, because all I could truly think about was how much I had missed him, how much I had been longing just to hear him speak and be around him again. That was the most important thing. Because I had stuck by my guns, and not a single word had been spoken between the two of us. Just under a month beforehand, my stomach had dropped to the floor when I saw that he was trying to call me at 1 o’clock in the morning. I pulled through, and ignored the call, and he never text me afterwards or anything, so I figured he was just drunk and it wasn’t anything important. I was very proud of myself, for doing that, for finding that strength from somewhere and keeping my promise to myself. But I was so ready to be around him again. I seriously couldn’t wait. I’d also come to realise, that a tiny little part of me, kind of wanted to tell Harry about how much I liked him. I blamed Louis for that. If he hadn’t told me that he thought Harry reciprocated my feelings, I would have still been convinced it was a one sided affair and I would have been dreading it. But Louis had given me the slightest glimmer of hope. He had planted a seed in my mind, and the tiniest part of me now thought that maybe Harry wouldn’t cringe and squirm away from me if I told him. Even so, I was still probably 95% sure he would. But to be completely honest, I just wanted to get it off my chest. We got out of Zayn’s car, the sun surprisingly beating down on our new home. “I’m so glad we’re finally here.” Zayn sighed. “Me too. That felt like the longest summer ever.” I groaned. “Did you speak with your dad?” “No.” I ground, as we moved to the boot. “I couldn’t pluck up the courage.” “Shit. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “Meh.” I shook my head as we opened the boot. “It’s my own fault. I’ll do it at some point, I just didn’t dare. Maybe it’ll be easier for me now I’m not in the same town as him.” “Don’t rush yourself.” He told me, grabbing a few things. “He’s clearly not in any rush. It’s a weird situation. Take your time with it. Don’t do it because of pressure or guilt. Do it when it feels right.” I had missed hearing Zayn’s little snippets of wisdom. We had spoken on the phone a lot, but it was never the same as having him there for real. We grabbed as much as we physically could, and then walked up our tiny front path, next to the dull green grass and the dead plants, and up to our front door, which was painted bright blue for some bizarre reason. Zayn struggled to get the key out of his pocket, cursing to himself in the happiest way possible, and my heart was in my throat in those few moments before he finally pushed the door open. We were looking at the place with completely different eyes to when we originally looked around. It wasn’t a concept, it was actually ours, and it made it so much more beautiful than it was before. We both proved this when we dropped everything we had been carrying, squealed, and hugged each other. That’s right. Zayn squealed. He lifted me from the floor as I giggled into his hair. I’d honestly never felt a happiness similar. It was so new and exhilarating and I really didn’t want the feeling to ware off. “I’m so happy!” I piped. “Me too.” Zayn said, dropping me. “HELLO?” We waited for a reply, but didn’t receive one. Harry’s bedroom was downstairs too, so he definitely would have heard us calling for him. He was yet to arrive, which gave me a little time. “Just us.” I sighed. “For now. Okay, lets unpack, and then I’m cooking something amazing for tea.” I was literally one foot into the building. But fuck, it felt good to be home. + + + My mum had bought me a giant poster, and I was happily sticking it on the back of my door, smiling at it admirably. The Princess and The Frog. I text her straight away thanking her for the gift, then I skipped happily downstairs, hearing Zayn listening to Pink Floyd in the kitchen as he cooked us a meal. I was more or less unpacked. It was just past 7pm and it was getting dark outside. In the living room in the centre of our home, Zayn had sparked up the fire and plugged in the TV. We had promised ourselves we wouldn’t actually watch anything until it was legal and we had a TV license, but I knew that plan would fall apart within a matter of hours. I wandered through the gorgeously humid living room, and into the disgustingly humid kitchen, Zayn seemingly doing about ten things at once as he made a proper Sunday roast, regardless of the fact it was Friday. “Hey.” I greeted. “Smells good.” “Thanks!” He smiled. “You unpacked?” “More or less, yeah. Are you?” “Nah. I’ll do it tomorrow.” He brushed. “Y’know, I thought I’d want to go out tonight as a celebration, but to be honest, I don’t even wanna leave the house!” I didn’t think I ever wanted to leave the house, really. I had received my schedule for the year a fortnight before, putting me in lectures on Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. The only reason I was dreading it, was because I would have to leave my lovely home. In other ways, I was pretty excited to get back into our heated debates and to further my academic career. I was also dead set on finding something extra I could do that involved photography. “Y’know how we should celebrate our new home?” I twiddled my brows. “How?” “By watching The Princess and The Frog.” I concluded. Zayn slowly turned his face to me so I could see the blank expression that created his features, giving out a big sigh and shaking his head. “Fine.” He groaned. “REALLY?” “Yeah, whatever.” He couldn’t help but let a grin creep onto his face. “You’ve pulled my leg.” “I didn’t do much pulling.” “Well maybe I want to watch it, alright? Jeez, Pippa. Save some of my dignity.” I was mid giggle when I heard the front door opening, and very quickly that giggle died. This wasn’t like our first year of uni, when I would have to take a wild guess at who was walking down our corridor. There was only one person it could be. And before I knew what I was doing, I was running through the kitchen, through the living room, down the corridor past the stairs and straight into his arms. Just like Zayn had, Harry dropped a hand full of things just so he could hold me too. At first I was on my tip-toes, but very quickly, Harry lifted me off the ground slightly, my arms around his neck, his nose nestled into my neck and his arms gripping behind me so tightly it was like we had been apart for years. ”I missed you.” He whispered against my skin. “I missed you so much.” I so desperately wanted to cry. It was bubbling up inside me, prickling at my eyes as I gripped them shut and tried to control my emotions, because I wanted to really have my shit together when I finally told him how deeply I felt for him. I didn’t want him to figure it out just because I couldn’t stop myself from crying when his arms bounded me like I was already his. The only reason we were torn apart was because Zayn had come to receive some affections himself. “Alright, bro.” He chirped from behind me. Harry gently put my feet back on the ground before he unwrapped himself from around me and hugged Zayn, breathing so heavily it was like he had run a marathon. “Yo, man! How’s it going?” He replied. “Good. Glad to have you here.” Zayn patted his back and pulled away from him. “Where’ve you been?” “Got a little caught up in goodbyes.” He smiled. “Let me guess, Ben?” I smirked. “He was definitely the most emotional.” He smiled down to me. Harry’s floppy hair that he had decided not to tame, was so thick and messy that it seemed a little longer than I remembered, his curls even more visible and beautiful. I hated even thinking it, but it seemed 2 months of not speaking to me had done worlds of good for him. He’d never looked better. It was like all my organs had jumbled around my body. My heart was in my throat, my stomach in my bloody feet, my eyes in the back of my head. I honestly didn’t know how I hadn’t just collapsed on the spot. “You hungry?” Zayn asked him. “I’m starving.” He groaned. “I’ll just grab my things from the car.” “Do you want some help?” I beamed. “Sure.” Zayn and Harry shared one more little excited hug and squeal, before Zayn went back into the kitchen, and myself and Harry went into the cold to empty his car, and officially bring him home. “How’ve you been?” I gulped nervously. “Um, yeah. I’ve been good. Have you?” It was suddenly awkward, in a way. I had been excited to see him, that much was obvious, but I had almost forgotten that I hadn’t seen him since the morning after we had sex and I had been engulfed in his arms, kissed and smothered with his affections. It was bound to be a little bit awkward, and I had only just realised that. “I’ve been fine.” I waited by his boot. He didn’t open it though. He just turned and looked at me, a silence bouncing between us for a few moments as I looked up to him, praying that this phase would pass within the next ten seconds. “You enjoy your break from me?” He smirked. Harry was too confident for his own good. There wasn’t a chance he couldn’t sense that it was awkward enough, but then he felt a need to thrive off it, to be even more intimidating by mentioning it. “Mm. A bit rubbish.” I sighed. “How did you find it?” “Not the best.” He hunched his shoulders. “Can we go back to normal now?” I didn’t know what normal was for us either way, but I knew in my head and in my heart that normal was not an option, because I was going to tell him something that had the potential to make sure we would never be normal again. But I lied. “Of course we can.” I smiled shyly. “Good.” He nodded firmly. “Now, Pip-Squeak, let’s get unpacking.” He crinkled his nose and smiled as he popped open his boot, and we began grabbing as much as we could at a time, and it was pretty easy since his room was downstairs and we could just plonk everything on his bedroom floor without traipsing up and down the stairs with each journey. We were done after around ten minutes, in perfect unison with Zayn’s meal. “Pip, will you grab me some plates?” He called from the kitchen as we shut the front door for the final time that night. “Yeah!” There was a box full of plates and pans, and every kitchen essential needed that Zayn had brought with him, and purchased all by himself with the money he had made whilst working over the summer. The boy could have been a bloody chef. “Thanks.” He cooed as I put three beside him. “How many hours did you bloody work this summer?” I cried. “Huh?” “You got your car and you got all this stuff. That’s a lot of work for one person!” “Yeah.” He nodded, seemingly unfazed by it. “Let’s just say I made a lot of coffees.” “Did you enjoy it?” “No. I don’t suit working in busy places. I’m an artist. I like things on my schedule. But my paintings aren’t going to buy me a car right now, are they? So it’s worth it.” Harry appeared in the kitchen with a box of cutlery in his hands, taking a deep breath in through his nose, really enjoying the aroma. “One day, they’ll buy you a Ferrari, bro. Trust me.” Harry comforted. “Thanks, man.” Zayn blushed. “I hope so.” “I know so.” He nodded confidently. “Need some help?” “Wanna just grab some knives and forks?” Zayn started plating everything up, and I just stared from the side-lines with love in my eyes. Just looking at those roast potatoes was making me weak. “Y’know what I’ve just realised?” He spoke. “Hm?” “We don’t have a table. Again.” “Oh for fuck sake.” I groaned. “Looks like we’re going back to teas on knees. There isn’t even any room for a table!” Harry came back in with three knives and three forks as I inwardly groaned about our lack of table, once again. “Now go sit down you two. I’ll bring it out.” So me and Harry went into the living room and sat ourselves down on the little sofas that had come as part of our rental, and Harry turned up the music on Zayn’s speakers as our chef/waiter brought in all three plates in one go without spilling a thing. You could tell he had been working his arse off all summer. Balancing three plates wasn’t a talent he possessed in our first year of uni. We both thanked him as he gave us our plates, and began tucking in immediately. We were quiet for a few minutes when we first started eating, but it didn’t last too long, because we were all finally back together. For good. We had to catch up with each other. “How was your summer, Pip-Squeak?” Harry asked me. “It was okay.” I shrugged. “Did you get in touch with your dad?” I started choking on nothing, just coughing as a way of avoiding answering his question, because I knew Harry would be slightly disappointed that I hadn’t taken the leap that he had really wanted me to. “I tried.” I exhaled. “I rang him and... Jen answered.” “Jen?” Zayn puzzled. “My… Auntie Jen. The woman he cheated on my mum with.” “Your Auntie?” Harry cried. “As in your mum’s sister?” “No, not technically. But that’s what we called her so... That’s proof of how close she was with my mum.” “Fuck!” Harry cried. “How the fuck can people do that?” I really couldn’t stand Jen, but the more I thought about it, the less angry I was. I had grown up knowing the woman. She was sweet, kind, helpful. It was starting to dawn on me how much she must have loved my father, and those feelings were reciprocated. They were together. It wasn’t just a fling. It wasn’t just an affair. They were in love. Why else would they abandon and risk everything else in their lives? That was a truly powerful love. A selfish love, but love all the same. And I was trying my damn best to just get used to the idea of my dad being happy with someone else so I could move on be happy for him. “Love does crazy things to people.” I shrugged. Harry didn’t say anything to that, he just seemed to stare at me from his sofa, shovelling a chunk of chicken into his mouth, seemingly confused by what I had just said. Maybe he had been expecting more venom in my words, maybe he expected me to yell and spew hatred and get angry but I was totally past that point. Part of me wondered if I had ever really been at the point when it came to her. I shrugged, because Harry wasn’t trying to hide the fact he was staring at me, almost like he was waiting for me to say something else, and my shrug showed him I had absolutely nothing left to say. He moved on. “How was your summer?” He directed to Zayn. “Yeah it was good.” He spoke after he swallowed. “Working was a bit of a pain, but its seen me through all summer and got me the car and stuff, so it was worth it.” “Anything else go down, or did you just work?” “Well, I started speaking to this girl… that I know.” A smile grew on his lips immediately. “I dunno. She’s pretty cool.” “You like someone?” I beamed. “Umm. We’ll see.” He shrugged. “Early days.” “Well, keep us informed.” Harry grinned. “I’m intrigued.” We couldn’t help but be intrigued. I’d never heard Zayn mention a girl other than girls in clubs and one-night stands. He kind of kept himself to himself, in that sense, almost like the opposite of Mike. That’s why I knew, even though I wanted to ask him for every single detail, I would have to wait and let him do it in his own time. “So how about you, Haz?” Zayn said between bites. “How was your summer? How was the Ibiza reunion?” “So much fun.” He sighed. “Those lads are amazing. Ed especially. Fucking love that guy.” Everyone loved Ed. I had been kicking myself all summer that we hadn’t gotten round to seeing each other, but I suppose it made me all the more excited to finally be around him again. I was smiling even at the thought. “Any news?” Zayn asked him. “Yeah, umm… Kinda.” He took a deep breath in, before he spoke. “I-I have a girlfriend.” I wished I had had that blissful moment that sometimes occurs when something doesn’t sink in straight away. But that hit me like a fucking train. I couldn’t even hide how quickly it had struck me. I dropped my knife and fork, making them clatter against my plate loudly as I stared down to the food and began automatically concentrating on keeping my breathing in check. I felt like I was going to pass out. My head was spinning so fast and his words just kept repeating over and over again in my head. Harry had a girlfriend. And I had a migraine. “Seriously?” Zayn muttered. “Yeah.” Harry breathed. “Um, it’s this girl from home, who I’ve known for a few years. Minnie.” I lifted my eyes then because I knew exactly who she was. When I went to live with Harry during reading week, she had been there. She was the girl he had lost his virginity to, the one who he had been infatuated with ever since. For fuck sake, I literally told the boy to go after her, to make a move. A few months later, he had obviously decided to take my word and go for it. I fucking hated him for waiting so fucking long the fucking fuck fuck fuck fuck! “Oh.” Zayn seemed just as shocked as I felt. “Nice. How’s it going?” “Good, yeah. It’s good. She’s great. I like her a lot.” I didn’t even know the girl and I knew I hated her. It wasn’t her fault, was it? She wouldn’t have even known me if I sat next to her on the bloody bus. How was she ever supposed to know that being with Harry would hurt anyone in any way. But I literally hated the girl so much, my blood was bubbling and boiling just thinking about her. I gripped one fist down by my side, where Harry couldn’t see, and used my other hand to brush my fingers through my hair, suddenly feeling like I was sweating. “Well...” Zayn continued awkwardly. “I wasn’t really expecting that.” “No, I know. It’s not really like me but… I’ve liked her for years so...” Exactly. He had liked her for years, and he’d gone months on end bloody hating me. How stupid did I have to be to think that you could go through every level? Yeah, it was possible to be friends after not getting on, but how blind was I to think that me and Harry could be together when I had so much proof that there were things about me that he really couldn’t stand? I didn’t know Minnie, but I felt two things towards her. Hatred, and a burning desire to be her. I brushed my hair back again. “How did that come about?” I finally spoke. I couldn’t hide the pain I felt. It seeped out into my tone even though I had really wanted to keep it hidden. My tone was bitter, vexed and resentful. “Just... bumped into her one night and, finally plucked up the courage to talk to her. You remember her, right?” “How could I forget?” I sniggered sarcastically. I was so obvious, like so so so obvious. I really wanted to stop, because I didn’t want to be stooping so low and to be angry with him. I really didn’t have a foot to stand on. But neither of them mentioned it. “Well, we ended up catching up and... Yeah. I dunno. Something just clicked.” The hateful part of me really wanted to tell him how much Niall hated her, how he had told me himself that he and Naomi actually aimed to keep him away from the girl, but I bit my tongue because this was the worst possible time, and way, for Harry to find out how much I liked him. He seemed to feel awkward just talking about it, so I figured he either knew exactly how I felt, or just felt awkward because of our history, and the things that had happened between us. Things I had been hoping would happen again that very evening. That was no longer an option, and it had been a distant dream to begin with. “Are you happy?” Zayn asked him. I noticed Zayn’s tone, too. It was almost as though he was expecting him to say no, like he didn’t think he could possibly be happy. I turned my head slowly to the left so I could see his face, which was pretty still as he waited for Harry to reply. “Yeah. I really am.” There was so much happiness in his voice. It sounded so pure and so real and it really tipped me over my edge and ripped me apart. There were tears in my eyes as I got to my feet, plate in hand, and I dashed off into the kitchen so neither of them could see me silently crying. “You finished?” Zayn asked. “Nah, I’m just full.” I hid the quake in my voice pretty well. “I’m gunna go finish unpacking.” “Don’t you wanna watch the film?” “I dunno.” I scraped the food off my plate loudly into the bin to cover my voice even more. “It’s been a long day and I’m pretty tired. Maybe tomorrow.” “Oh. Alright.” I made sure to stay in the kitchen until my eyes were momentarily dry, and that’s when I scurried back through the living room with a massive smile on my face, even convincing myself for a split second, that I was okay. I said goodnight cheerily, and they both chorused back in the same manner. I held myself together. All through the living room, all down the corridor, up every single step, and all across the hall upstairs. But the very second I closed my bedroom door, I burst into tears, my chest heaving in and out as I tried my best to let out my anguish as quietly as possible. + + + My pillow case was already stained with mascara. I lay on top of the sheets, unenthusiastic as I held my phone against my ear, now completely void of any emotion. I had completely drained myself. I felt really bad for Grace, who had been on the other end trying to find the right words to say for fifteen minutes or so. “I mean... What the hell?” She cried. “How the hell has he got a girlfriend? You slept with him like... two months ago.” “He’s known her for years though. And we already know for a fact that he’s slept with her. I bet it’s… pretty easy to rekindle things like that.” “What a little bastard!” She whelped. The muscles in my face ached as my lips forced themselves into the weakest smile, but that was exactly why I had rang Grace. If anyone was going to force a smile onto my miserable face, it would be her. “But I’ve been thinking about this during my hours of crying.” I sighed. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.” “You’re fucking with me, right?” She tutted. “We always said we were just friends. We said from the beginning it meant nothing. For fuck sake, he didn’t even let me touch him before we had sex. At what point has he been a bastard?” “He’s totally lead you on!” That shut me up pretty quickly, because I didn’t think he had. I may have been lying when I said it, but we had always confirmed that it was nothing serious. Whenever we kissed, or slept together, or anything even remotely intimate, nothing had ever been insinuated that it was anything other than physical acts. As heartbroken as I felt, I didn’t feel any anger towards him, because he’d never convinced me it was anything more than lust. “What? No.” I sighed. “No, he hasn’t. At all.” “Yes he has, Pip! C’mon. It’s not just about what people say, is it? You can tell a hell of a lot from peoples actions.” “I know. I study that bollocks.” I groaned. “Then you need to explain a few things. Or he needs to explain a few things. He wouldn’t kiss you when you were on drugs. He rings you when he’s drunk and admits things. He got jealous about you and bloody Zayn for crying out loud. So jealous, in fact, that he started a fight on a load of random guys. Am I wrong?” Nothings ever that simple and obvious when you’re the lead role. It’s not like you’re watching a film and you can see all the obvious signs, all the things that one character does that add up and become something more. You’re completely dumb to those things when you’re alongside them. So dumb, that it even gets to the stage where when you do see those things that others can clearly see, you brush past them, ignore them, deny them. I gulped. “You’re not wrong.” I breathed. “He woke up early at a bloody festival just to spend time with you. I mean, I’m not saying that’s definitely because he felt something. I thought it was, but now he has a girlfriend… I’m not sure. But I know for a fact, that doing those things, is fucking leading you on.” “Hm.” I felt like I was going to cry again. “You might have liked Harry even without anything happening between you. But you’d have never felt this badly. You’d have never been this hurt.” I wanted to be mad at him, to hate him for making me subconsciously feel that there was a chance he liked me too. But I just couldn’t. He may have done all those things, little things I had barely took note of, that had made me fall harder and harder for him over time, but I knew in my heart, and in my mind, that Harry would never do anything to hurt me purposefully. It just wasn’t in his nature. At all. He didn’t have a clue that his relationship would hurt me. If he did, I’m not saying it would have stopped him going out with Minnie, if that was what he really wanted to do. He just wouldn’t have told me in the nature he did. In front of Zayn, in the middle of a bloody meal, less than an hour after he’d bloody arrived. He wouldn’t have done that to me if he knew the true nature of my feelings. “Urgh. I can’t talk about this anymore. I’ll text you tomorrow or something, okay? I’m absolutely knackered.” “Okay.” She quaked. “No more crying though, alright? You’ll dry up.” “Shut up.” I giggled. “G’night.” “Night, babe.” I hung up and stared glumly towards my ceiling for a while, before I finally swung my legs off my bed and walked hesitantly towards my bedroom door. I cracked it open and stared out down the hall to make sure nobody (Harry) was around. The house was very still. I had heard the lads playing music and chatting downstairs for a few hours after I retreated to my room, but it had been silent for a while now, and I felt safe to finally retreat and use the bathroom. A bump in with Harry was the bloody last thing I needed. Seeing his face, at that point in the evening, would have been the only thing that made me cry again. I rushed through the experience. The bathroom was in the middle of the hall at the top of the stairs, and Harry’s room was just outside the bottom of the stairs, so I knew I had to be quick, because there was a large chance that Harry would want to ask me about my bizarre reaction to him telling me about his new relationship with Minnie. I used the toilet and brushed my teeth as quickly as possible, and as I got back into the hall, I jumped when I noticed a presence. Thankfully, it was Zayn. “Shit. Sorry.” I gasped. “Hi.” “You coming for cuddles or what?” He spoke lowly. It was my first night in the new house, and really, I just wanted to get in my own bed. But I am not the kind of fool to say no to cuddles with Zayn. I nodded with a real smile, one that didn’t even hurt, and scurried into his room, grateful we hadn’t been interrupted. We got into bed straight away, and Zayn was listening to Mumford & Sons through his TV, soothing effects being projected onto the screen. I was little spoon, tucking into his back, and feeling so ridiculously comforted, just being in someone’s arms. I might have needed a little alone time, but I knew being alone didn’t suit me at all. Never had done. “Pip… are you okay?” He whispered after a while of silence. “Mm, yeah.” “You sure?” “Yeah! Why’d you ask?” “For fuck sake, Pip. I’m not an idiot.” He didn’t need to say anything else, in fact, nothing else was said at all between us that night as he cuddled me tightly. We just fell asleep, and I was more than aware, that Zayn knew exactly how much I adored Harry Styles. It seemed like the only person left who didn’t know, was the man himself.