Heavy Heart

Daria woke up the next day with her finger on Anne’s cell number, ready to call and cancel. The feeling that permeated her bones was enough to bury her in bed all day. Everyone had taken notice when she returned early from London the day before instead of spending the night at Harry’s, and it would only be a matter of time until the girls inevitably dragged her out to the pubs to cheer her up. But Harry called her that morning with a voicemail begging for reconciliation and Daria didn’t have it in her heart to cancel. Her time at Birmingham was dwindling; she needed all the time she could get with the host family she adored and the boyfriend she couldn’t bear to leave.

Lucie was driving to visit her family in Cheshire that afternoon and insisted it was no problem at all to get Daria to Holmes Chapel. She couldn’t stand the thought of being trapped in a car with Harry for upwards of an hour and a half, and it was much less complicated than calling Anne and asking her to come fetch her when Harry would be driving right through Birmingham. No one else needed to know about their fight. It was between her and Harry. And as they sat awkwardly at the dinner table, it stayed between her and Harry – staring blankly at each other across the roast beef and mashed potatoes.

“So we have a little bit more than three weeks left with you, Daria,” Robin hummed as he placed another forkful of dinner into his mouth.

Daria’s heart gave a start at the thought. Ever since the day Harry had so casually mentioned it before whisking her away to Paris, she’d been avoiding the topic like the plague. But since Robin had so kindly put it out in the open, Daria had no choice but to respond.

“A little bit less than, actually,” she clarified quietly, keeping her gaze away from Harry. She couldn’t swallow the look he was undoubtedly giving her, her gut wrenching at the thought.

“Is that so?” Anne asked dejectedly. “What are we going to do without you?”

“I certainly don’t know,” Harry muttered into his glass of wine before taking a long, dragged out gulp. The husky tone of his voice resonated in the walls of the chalice, only dragging out his melancholy more. Daria’s heart plummeted into her stomach as her eyes met Harry’s, deep and green. She was still hurt and confused and apprehensive, but the way his lips parted in her direction, like he wished he could say more, begged her to give him a second chance.

Robin cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly regretting having brought the topic up. “Well, that still means having a few more dinners together, right?” he suggested hopefully. Anne nodded along, her smile gentle and yet imploring.

“Of course,” Daria replied, picking at her roast beef the way she had all dinner, not eating much more than a couple bites. “They’re my favorite part of the week.”

And she was certainly not lying – the Saturday evenings she spent in Cheshire with Harry and his family were a highlight of her time in England. They provided her with a sense of family she hadn’t felt since she was a little girl. Since the last time she ate dinner with her family still intact, her father drinking watered down whiskey from a stemless glass and her mother laughing heartily at his jokes.

“I swear, we’ll get Gemma out here someday,” Anne assured of her eldest child, the beautiful Gemma Styles, Harry’s sister. Though they’d yet to meet, Daria knew that she was terribly important to him. He spoke so highly of her, going through pictures of them when they were little for Daria to see. But she was away at school and rarely made it home with her heavy course load, so Daria had been left waiting to meet her.

“I know she’s a busy girl,” Daria comforted softly. “It’s not her fault. We’ll meet when we’re meant to meet and not a minute sooner.”

“Speaking of busy girls,” Anne added, turning back to her son. “Didn’t you see Cara yesterday? For your meeting with – "

“Burberry, yes,” Harry interrupted shortly, his eyes bewildered. He clearly wanted to avoid the topic until he and Daria got a chance to talk just as much as Daria did. She feared involving Harry’s parents too much in their relationship for fear of losing them if anything were to happen. Anne looked at Harry perplexedly, her eyebrows poised in a confused state.

“Oh…” she hummed. “Was it Burberry then? I thought you were up to something else.”

“Oh no, you’re thinking of my meeting with Pepsi next week,” Harry corrected with another sip of his wine. “After we wrap on this whole Christmas album thing. At this rate I don’t know if it’ll be out in time for the holidays anyway.”

Daria appreciated Harry’s attempt at changing the subject; she could feel the anxiety surrounding it rising in her like steam. But Robin, as sweet yet clueless as ever, steered the subject back in the direction of Cara.

“I miss Cara, she’s always been such a nice girl,” Robin hummed as he pushed his empty plate away. “Harry’s been friends with her since they were little, you know.”

Daria felt the color go from her face, and then from her lips as she bit down on them to keep from lashing out. “I actually wasn’t aware of that, no,” she responded flatly.

“Oh yes,” Anne confirmed with a laugh. “She always chased him around when they were younger; she had the biggest crush on him! We all thought for sure they were going to get married someday.”

“Mum – “ Harry protested lowly from his end of the table.

“But ever since her modeling career took off and Harry well, became famous, for lack of better words she hasn’t been around as much as I would like her to,” Anne continued obliviously. “I just adore her.”

As Harry floundered at the end of the table for the words to end the conversation, Daria squared her shoulders and took it head on. “I actually ran into her and Harry before their appointment yesterday in London,” she added in her calmest tone. “I was on my way out from a meeting I had. She seems very… close to Harry.”

Just then, the clock struck eight, sending a clattering of chimes through the room. Anne sat up straight in her chair, her eyes wide. “Is that really the time?” she exclaimed. “We have to get going! I’m not even ready yet!”

She flew from the room and up the stairs, prompting Robin to shake his head with a chuckle. “We hate to leave you so early, but there’s a benefit on in town tonight and Anne’s on the board.”

“Daria shook her head, giving Robin a soft smile. “You’re both such busy people,” she hummed graciously, though her anxiety was ablaze inside her. “I’m thankful to have any time with you at all.”

“So sorry to run darling,” Anne apologized as she ran through the kitchen in a dark purple cocktail dress, pressing a fleeting kiss to Daria’s cheek. “We can catch up in the morning okay? You are staying the night?”

“I suppose, if I’m invited,” Daria replied, but her host parents didn’t hear her. Anne was already dragging robin out the door, the car coming to life in the driveway. She and Harry were suddenly alone, sitting across the table from each other with a wooly tension between them. In an effort to avoid making the first move, Daria began collecting the plates and moving them to the sink to wash. She could feel Harry’s gaze on her as she cleaned, hot as coals.

“Daria,” Harry finally murmured, moving to stand behind her at the sink. “Can we calk about this now?”

“I don’t really know what there is to say,” she murmured back, stacking the last of the plates in the cupboard. “And if there is something to say, I don’t know where to start.”

“How about we start here,” Harry posed, leaning against the counter. “What were you on about yesterday?”

Daria snapped around, her anxiety coming to a peak in her sharp, short breaths. “What was I on about?” she seethed. “I’ll tell you what I was on about.”

“Wonderful,” Harry countered, walking over to the table and sitting down again. “Enlighten me.”

Daria took a deep, shaky breath, anger seeping out of her uncontrollably. “I see you out in London with another girl, another beautiful girl, going to some mystery appointment you failed to ever mention to me,” she spat, crossing her arms across her chest to keep her hands from visibly shaking.

“And you’re giggling together about jokes I’m not included in, she’s calling you pet names I’ve never heard before. And it made me feel like something else was going on. Something that is completely outside of me. That’s what I’m on about.”

“This is ridiculous,” Harry responded incredulously. “Cara is my friend. Of course we’re going to have inside jokes that don’t include you. I’ve known her for ages.”

“If you are such pals, how come you’ve never mentioned her before?”

Daria countered sharply, her eyes cutting into Harry like bitter knives. She resisted the nervous urge to pick at her top knot, trying to put on as united of a front as possible.

“She’s never come up!” he replied, throwing his arms in the air. “You’re making something out of absolutely nothing.”

“See, when I came here that’s what I was beginning to think,” Daria agreed, thinking back to earlier when she felt the need to forgive him at dinner. “I wanted to forgive you and move on from this because I was just over reacting. But it turns out your family thinks she makes the sun shine, not to mention she’s beautiful and successful and then there’s me."

“So you’re feeling insecure about me being friends with Cara?” Harry attempted to clarify with a virulent, flat tone to his voice. His body language gave him away though – shoulders squared impatiently.

Daria exhaled sharply in frustration, the room feeling a bit like it was closing in on her. “I’m feeling insecure about the fact that you apparently have a reputation as a player and yesterday I felt like I was being played.”

Harry’s exterior softened. “What?”

“That afternoon in Paris when you saved me from the paparazzi, they told me you have this reputation for being a player,” Daria explained, her hands now shaking uncontrollably. “I didn’t want to believe them, but then when I ran into you and you were with some other beautiful model girl you apparently have a history with, it was pretty fucking hard for me not to feel insecure."

“Daria,” he sighed. “How many times have I told you not to talk to them? They’re just trying to get a rise out of you so they can get a better story.”

“I knew you were a charmer going into this,” she continued, ignoring his point. “I knew the very first day I met you. But you have to admit your track record isn’t the best.”

“What any of that have to do with you and me?” he disputed, standing up from his chair. He seemed like he was caught between going to her and comforting her and storming out of the room. “What do any of my past girlfriends have to do with the way I feel about you now?”

“How do you feel about me, then?” Daria challenged.

“Is this a test or something?” Harry asked in disbelief. “Daria, what’s gotten into you?”

“Prove it,” she insisted bravely, unfolding her arms in solidarity. “Prove I’m it then.”

Without a word, Harry crossed the room and pressed his lips to hers, consuming her entirely in his strong embrace. They melded together seamlessly in the kiss with his hands running wild in her hair. Everything about it was electric, sending shivers up Daria’s spine the same as when he kissed her for the first time. With that kiss, Harry said everything he could have ever tried to say with words and more. With that kiss, Daria felt like she had been braced in the biggest storm.

He pulled away slowly, breathlessly, and pressed his forehead to hers. His large hand still caressed her cheek, gently skimming the skin of her jawline. Daria silently begged for more, moving her lips so they hovered just above his.

“I can’t change what I did in the past,” he murmured, his lips ghosting across hers as he spoke. “But I can tell you now that you’ve made me who I am now. I’m hopelessly dedicated to you, Daria Holmes. I don’t think I could leave you if I tried.”

Her heart pounded in her chest at his words, his hands moving to linger on her hips. “Harry,” she breathed in a light moan before kissing him again. The anger had slowly melted away into want, and now all she could think of was her lips on his.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he whispered against her. “I’ve only ever wanted you. You drive me absolutely crazy.”

She moved her hands to the hemline of his soft grey shirt, tugging it up over his head. Harry pulled away as it fell to the floor, his eyes wide with surprise. Daria hushed him, running her hands across his lean, muscular frame, speckled with his collection of tattoos. He slipped the pins from her hair, causing it to flow loosely around her shoulders. Brushing it away from her collarbone, he pressed hungry kisses all the way up her neck, making her weak in the knees.

“Let’s maybe take this elsewhere?” he suggested in a low tone. Daria nodded back anxiously. Suddenly, everything in her was telling her this was it. She was finally ready to give herself to him entirely.

He led her upstairs to his room and laid her down on his bed, slowly peeling off the rest of her clothes. She did the same, trailing kisses all over his body until it was just the two of them and absolutely nothing else between.

“God, I’ve wanted you for so long,” he moaned into her ear, nibbling at it gently as his hands traveled in all the right places. She shuddered in pleasure beneath him, running her hands through his mess of curly hair.

He was wildly sexy, and there was nothing she could do to deny it. The way his eyes drank her in like it was the first time he’d ever seen her, his lips curled in concentration, his shaggy hair gently brushing against her skin. It took everything in her not to demand more, angrily kissing him instead to send the message.

When they came together everything felt just right, though it hurt at first and was awkward in places, - it was everything she always hoped it would be. Harry was patient and, for lack of a better word, skilled, bringing her to the highest peak she ever dreamed of reaching. And though her movements were unfamiliar and awkward, something about them worked – because eventually he was collapsing in pleasure next to her, his winning smile emblazoned on his face.

“You’re so special to me Daria,” he hummed softly in her ear. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel anything but.”

He wrapped her up in a sweet embrace, kissing her with his full, soft lips. “I’m sorry for being crazy,” she replied. “You’re so special to me too.”

And as they lay together in his bed, his arms around her and her head on his chest, she felt like everything was in place again. He was snoring softly beneath her, a steady wave of sound to calm her still excited heart. She kissed his chest softly, causing him to shift beneath her, only holding her more tightly than before. And she decided that nothing could ever be perfect between any two people. They could only try to make each other happy. And every day, Harry made her happy. She trusted him. She maybe even felt those three little words that terrified her the most. That was what mattered. The magic between them would be what lasted, and last it did.