Over Again

**Harry's POV**

The radio interview was quite enjoyable. The boys and I bade our goodbyes after, and I made my way to meet Thalia for one by Starbucks.

I was sat at a table with my cappuccino, waiting for her for a few minutes. She soon arrived. She saw me and waved as she ordered and paid for her coffee. She set her coffee on the table and I stood to greet her.

"Thalia!" I smiled, spreading my arms.

"Hello, Harry," she beamed. She swiftly hugged me and sat down, her coffee sat between her hands.

She had changed. Her hair was cut differently and it had been dyed a reddish sort of colour that looked as if it was tinted brown. Her skin was now covered on make up when she didn't used to wear that much. Her clothes had changed too - she wore a casual yet smart pencil skirt and blouse. It wasn't formal, because they weren't black and white - the skirt was a reddish/purple colour and the blouse a light tan - like the colour paper goes when you spill just a little bit of tea on it. Her heels were a nude kind of colour to match her skin-coloured tights. Also, I wasn't being a pervert and looking, it was just noticeable, but her chest seemed to have filled out.

"How are you, Harry?' She asked, snapping me out of my trace.

"Yeah, I've been great, thanks. How about you?"

"Yeah! There's been ups and downs, but isn't there always? I'm great now!"

She was still the talkative Thalia I always knew. There was something that hadn't changed. Something else that had changed was her hands. They were perfectly manicured with a little ring on about three of her fingers.

"That's great," I smiled. "Is there anything you wanted to talk to me specifically about?"

"Oh, no. Just wanted a chat! Thought you'd have enough to talk about, what with the fame, the money, the tourig the world, the girls...." She trailed off.

"Yeah, that's all great. Seeing the world and doing what I love... It's all amazing. And the girls are pretty cool," I winked.

"Ooh. Anyone special in your life?"

"Erm... Yeah, actually. A year next month," I smiled. Her face seemed to drop but it picked right back up into that smile again.

"Fantastic!"

"What about you?"

"Oh, no. No one. Not anymore. But oh well. Tell me about..."

"Marie?"

"Is that your special lady?" she winked. I nodded.

"She's.... Amazing."

"What does she look like?"

"Beautiful hair that's brown and in loose, wavy curls that she hates but are so perfect to me. Her eyes are dark but sparkle like a star when she smiles. She's quite small really, but she's not tiny... About 5"6... She's got a nice figure. Her lips are full and her skin is pale with little freckles. She's perfect to me," I finished, a cheesy smile plastered to my face as I stared into my coffee, just thinking of Marie.

"She sounds like a model."

"She doesn't think she could ever make it as a model..."

"What's she like? Her personality and everything?"

"Where to begin! She's got a similar sense of humour to me and she has gotten quite good at badminton. She's usually very happy and smiley-"

"Usually?"

"At the moment she's not been as smiley. Her dad only died a couple of months ago. He was serving in Afghanistan. It's upsetting. She's getting better though."

We spent the whole hour talking and laughing about different things. I had to admit that it was quite enjoyable meeting up with her again. The hour was soon up, and we bade goodbye and hugged each other with a swift kiss on the cheek. I jumped in my car and attempted to head home to finally wrap my arms around my beautiful girlfriend.

**Marie's POV**

"Hi, dad. I miss you," I whispered, lying my flowers down on his grave and kneeling next to him. "How's things up there? Things here are all right... Nothing's the same without you, though."

I traced my fingers over the inscriptions on his gravestone and felt tears well up in my eyes and fall onto the grass covering his body, buried six feet under.

"I miss you, dad!" I wept, breaking down. "I really do miss you! I begged you not to go! Why did you have to go?"

I leant my arms over his tombstone as if holding the piece of him that couldn't die, even if it was a cold piece of marble.

"I love you. I love you, daddy. No matter how old I'll get, I'll always be your little girl. No matter how old. When I get old and I see you again, up in heaven, it'll be the happiest time ever. You'll be my guardian angel and you'll watch over me until the day I'm supposed to be met with you again..."

After a while of sitting there with his grave, I stood and brushed myself off.

"Bye, dad. Love you."

With that, I turned and left the graveyard. I slid into my car and wiped away tears. I fixed my appearance in the mirror and drove off.

I decided half way home to grab a coffee and a McDonalds. I went through the McDonalds drive through and ordered myself a filet o'fish meal and a coke. I decided to get Harry something. I got him a Big Mac meal and a coke. I threw them in the back seat and put the car into drive. I made my way to Starbucks and parked outside. I was about to climb out of the car when....

Harry was sat in the window with another girl....

He was laughing. She was laughing. She flipped her hair. He stretched back. She leant her face in her hand. He ruffled his hair....

She was flirting with him. He was flirting back. How did I know he was flirting? He was acting the exact same way that he did around me.

I decided not to go into the coffee shop, because it would probably kill me if I did. Why would he meet up with other girls? Was he not happy with me? Why wouldn't he tell me about it? I wouldn't have minded if I'd have been told!

I slammed the door shut again and drove home. I stormed into the house and threw the McDonalds bag onto the sofa. I was too mad to eat, but I drank my coke. I was fuming. He had offered to come to the graveyard with me to see my dad, but I told him no and to just get the interview over and done with. My impression was that he'd come straight home to see me and check if I was all right. Instead, he'd gone to meet up with someone who seemed rather over dressed for a simple coffee. What else was going to happen?

I wondered up to our bedroom to change. I pulled on some shorts that were made of the same material as sweats. They fell at around half way up my thigh. I pulled on a vest top and a grey hoodie over it. I dragged the slipper socks over my feet and trudged downstairs. By this point, I had calmed down slightly. I plopped onto the sofa and took out what would have been a late lunch. I took out the chips and began to nibble on them, still not happy.

I had soon finished, so I threw the rubbish in the bin and left Harry's cold one on the table. I sat cross legged on the sofa and stared into mid air, waiting for Harry.

The door opened and then shut again. I heard shuffling in the hallway. I glanced up at the clock - ten past three. I had seen Harry at about half one. Where had he been? He waltzed into the living room and smiled at me sitting there. I just stared at him, not pleased. He swooped over to me and kissed my forehead. He sat next to me and put his arms around me.

"There's a McDonalds for you in the kitchen," I announced, stiffly.

"Oh, thanks babe," he grinned. He stood to go to the kitchen before returning to the seat next to me. "So how's your day been?"

"All right," I shrugged, fiddling with my hands that were clasped in my lap.

"Did you visit your dad?"

"Yeah. How was the interview?"

"All right. Same as every other really, but the boys were okay. They say hi, by the way."

I nodded. "So where have you been?"

"Around town," he shrugged.

"What you been doing?"

"I tried doing a bit of Christmas shopping. After all, it is nearly November. Christmas is soon. I got my mum a necklace, my sister a pair of shoes and my dad a watch. I got my step-dad an aftershave kit - wasn't cheap, mind. I think he'll like it. Hope they all will."

"You did that quick," I meant to keep that in my head, but it slipped out. Shit.

"Nah, not really."

There was a slight pause as Harry finished his food. Thank god he didn't understand the sarcasm in the comment. I couldn't stand it. I wanted to know who this woman was.

"I saw you sitting in Starbucks earlier," I stated.

He pricked his head up to stare at the opposite wall before turning his head to meet my eyes.

"Did you, love?"

"Yeah. Who was the woman?"

"No one in particular," he shook his head and finished what he was eating, placing he rubbish at his feet, ready for when he got up, for him to take it into the kitchen and stuff in the bin.

"You seemed to be having a good time."

"I would have much preferred to be here with you."

"Why didn't you come back, then?"

"Are you jealous that I went for a coffee with an old friend?"

"No, Harry. I'm not. I'm just...."

"Just what?"

"Pissed off."

"At what?"

"You'd rather go for a coffee with her than come home and see me."

"You are jealous!" He almost smirked. I glared at him and he frowned again.

"No I'm not! I'm annoyed because you didn't tell me that you didn't mind not coming to visit dad or spending time with me so you could go and flirt with another girl!"

"Flirt? Flirt!"

"Yes flirt! No need to repeat it! It's hard enough knowing it rather than you say it over again!"

"I wasn't flirting!" He defended. Both of our voices were raised.

"You blatantly were!" I shouted, standing to my feet.

"What makes you think I was flirting?" He exclaimed. He also stood to his feet.

"The flicking of your hair, your lip biting, your relaxing and showing off your biceps. The stretching, the hair ruffling. You were acting like you do when you're with me!" I shrieked.

"So? That just means I'm comfortable with her!" He roared. "None of those actions mean I have any feelings towards her!"

I gasped and Harry's eyes widened.

"So you act like that just because you're comfortable with me? You have no feelings towards me?" I seethed.

"I didn't mean that, Marie! I love you, I do!"

"Are you cheating on me?" I asked, practically growling, though I feared the answer.

"What do you think?" He near-sneered.

I raised an eyebrow and glared at him.

"Marie! Come on! No! I am not cheating on you!"

"How many times have you been and met up with other women without telling me?"

"This was the only time! I swear!"

"Why don't I believe you?"

I glared my eyes into his, watching the sparkle in his eyes die. He bit his lip nervously and looked at me sadly.

"You have to believe me."

"Do you even love me?"

"Marie, you know the answer to that!"

"Do I?" I said, in a dangerous whisper.

"You should! I tell you every day! And if I don't, then here it is! I love you! I love you more than anything in my entire life! You are my life! Marie,please look at me!" He begged. I had broken my gaze from his eyes and was staring at the floor - I say stare, I meant glare. He had taken my hands in his and had taken a step closer to me, pressing his forehead to mine.

I looked up into his eyes that were just above mine. I dropped my hands from his and stepped back. I marched up to our room and slammed the door, locking it. I fell back onto the bed and began sobbing. Harry attempted to open the locked door.

"Marie! Oh, don't be like this, darling! Come on! Let me in!"

I sat sobbing on the bed into the pillow as quietly as I could, while Harry continued to beg to be let in. Fuck him, I thought. Fuck the world.

I sobbed myself to sleep, hoping that in the morning, everything would be better... But it wasn't...

**Harry's POV**

I stood out side the bedroom door for a few hours. Sometimes, I could just about hear stifled sobs coming from Marie. It broke my heart to see and hear her like that. After what was probably hours, she fell silent. I guessed she was asleep. I trudged downstairs and checked the time. Nine at night. I sighed, knowing that Marie wasn't letting me in the room any time soon. An idea sparked me. I wasn't giving up any time soon. I had to prove that I love her. There was no doubt about that.

I pulled the duvet and pillow off of the bed in the spare room and lay them down in front of the bedroom door. I lay down and pulled the cover over me and flopped down onto the pillow. I fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, I woke to a sharp pain in my hand.

"What the hell are you doing on he floor?" Exclaimed a hoarse morning voice that I found so attractive.

"Waiting for you," I croaked, in my own morning voice.

"Why would you do that?" She hissed. I rubbed my eyes and saw she was already dressed.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. Don't you have that poxy awards thing tonight? You have to get ready for that - go and impress more women. I'm not staying around the house when that's all happening."

'Shit. I forgot about that. And I'm not going to impress other women!" I stood up, trying to shake away the tiredness. Marie scoffed.

"See you later, Harry."

I leaned forward and took hold of her hand, pulling her back.

"You can come with me. Keep an eye on me and let me prove to you that I'm not trying to impress others and that I am yours and only yours!" I begged.

She looked down at our hands and back up to my face. She glared again before sighing heavily.

"Fine. Get dressed so we can go and get ready, then," she dropped our hands and stamped downstairs. Jesus, she was a handful, but it was worth it.

If I was taking Marie to the awards ceremony with me, I would need to buy her something new and pretty to wear. We drove into town, not a word being exchanged due to the previous night's events.

We arrived at quite a fancy shop, which I knew would hold the perfect dress for Marie. She kept quiet and refused to talk much at all. We scrolled through the railings of clothes and shelves of shoes. All of the items of beautiful clothing clashed greatly with her chunky, oversized knit jumper, leggings and military boots. She kept brushing her hair out of her face, letting it cascade around her shoulders as she examined the dresses. I stood and watched until a flattering dress caught my eye.

It was black and flowed to the floor. It hugged the body until probably about half way over the bum, where it flowed out elegantly. It had sleeves that fell over the shoulder, which would expose her collarbone. It was low-cut at the back, which would also show off her back and shoulder blades. There were bits of material that stretched from one side of the back to the other, hanging loose around. I took a glance at Marie and saw she was examining a white, knee length dress with a displeased expression written on her face. I approached the dress and searched for her size on the rail. I then made my way to the shoe section, settling on some black, around four inch heels with a studded back of the shoe. The accessories section was close by. I chose a chunky waist belt that had a prominent buckle to match the studs on the shoes. I chose a clutch bag with studs to match. I found my way back to Marie and held the items outstretched in my arms.

"Try these," I suggested.

She glanced at the clothes before looking back at me. She took the items reluctantly and made her way to the changing room. I waited outside for her, and when she returned, she was wearing her normal clothes.

"They fit," she announced.

"Do you want those?"

She paused before nodding. I attempted to take her hand, but she swerved as if she never noticed. We paid for the things and left the shop. Lou Teasdale, the boys and mine's stylist, would already have had my tux picked out. We made our way to the venue where the boys and Lou were waiting for us.

"Louise, do you mind dolling Marie up for this?" I asked her, handing her the bag with Marie's new things in. She peeked inside the bag and smiled.

"If that's what you want me to do, Harry, love, that's fine," she replied happily, taking the bag with her and finding Marie.

I got taken to a mirror and changed into my tux. Louise came back around half an hour later.

"She's ready, Harry," she announced with a smile spread across her face.

"Can I see her yet?" I asked excitedly. I knew she'd look beautiful, but I wanted to see her with my own eyes.

"Let's get you ready first," she smiled, seeing the eagerness on my face.

She sat me down and plastered some powder and all sorts of makeup products on my face. She fixed my hair, placing it in all of the right places so that the curls looked more tamed.

"You're done," she grinned, moving onto Louis who had just come out of a changing room in his tux that was matched in colours to mine. Mine was grey with a black bow-tie and a white shirt. Louis' was also grey, but he didn't have a tie, but a black shirt.

"Where's Marie?" I asked, as she moved into Louis' face.

"Through there," she signalled, jolting her head towards a door. I waved her thanks and walked towards the door.

As soon as I'd walked in, I saw Marie. She was on her phone but looked up at the sound of my footsteps. She stood, tottering a little on the heels. My jaw dropped.

She was about my height, maybe a tiny bit shorter, but if she was, it was less than an inch. The dress fell to the floor even in the heels. It hugged her figure until the bottom and then flowed and gave room to the legs. The sleeves fell off the shoulders, showing her collarbones. The waist belt showed her figure ever better, with the silver buckle prominent. She gripped the studded clutch bag in her hand. The studs sparkled and matched the belt perfectly. Her makeup made her face sort of glow. She had a thin layer of foundation on with blush on top. She wore eyeliner and mascara, making her eyes show in all their beauty, the brown buttons glinting in the light. She had a little lipstick on her lips, making them look more kissable than ever. Her hair had been curled but her fringe straightened. The curls loosely fell around her face, with some parts clipped back. She looked absolutely stunning.

'You look... Incredible... Just beautiful," I stammered.

"Oh shush," she blushed.

"Give us a twirl," I winked. She sighed heavily, still not happy with me, and turned around, hitching the dress up so she could walk. She turned slowly showing me her back that was showing through the loose hanging material. She was gorgeous. She looked sexy. She stood facing me again and I grinned. I offered her my arm, and she reluctantly took it. She knew as well as I did that there'd be no point in acting awkward in front of the boys or, indeed, the press. That would just arouse suspicion. We walked in to see the boys and Niall was the first to see us. He saw her and his jaw dropped. I grinned and turned to her who was worriedly examining her reflection, though I didn't know why.

"Don't worry about a thing. You're stunning," I whispered gently into her ear. She looked back at me and turned to the floor.