The Christmas Effect

"Are you sure you'll be fine enough to be here without us? We can tell Sam and Dorothy that you're sick and you need us to take care of you," Mom promised, slipping her feet into her black boots hastily. "After all, it is Christmas Eve and we can go out to brunch some other time."

I sniffled, suppressing a grin. Mom was stuck between her incredibly strong motherly instincts and her excitement at the chance to gossip with her best friend. "Mom, go ahead. I have a cold, not a life-threatening sickness," I said jokingly, but once Mom's eyes widened with worry I knew that it wasn't a funny joke. "Kidding! Seriously, we can spend quality time when you and dad get back. Plus Harry's here and you know he'll take care of me."

Speak of the curly-haired devil, Harry walked out of the bathroom that moment, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why the hell do you have two-" Harry paused his words when his eyes fell upon my mother. His eyes widened slightly but he grinned nonetheless. "Oh, hi. I didn't realize you were still here. How wonderful! Would you like some tea or perha-"

"Alright, Harry. That's enough," Mom said, rolling her eyes slightly. I giggled from my spot on the couch, watching the scene quietly. "Now, make sure she does not leave this apartment, okay? The coldness and snow outside will only make her sicker. And make sure she eats chicken noodle soup and takes medicine in about-"

"Mom!" I interjected, feeling my cheeks heat up a little bit. I was an adult and living on my own, for God's sake, and here she was acting like I'm five years old again and need mommy to come to the rescue when I'm ill. It was weird enough to have my parents spend the night at my apartment while Harry was here as well—this was beginning to get mortifying. "Go. Harry's not completely stupid and dad's been waiting in the car forever now—you're going to be late."

She sighed, giving one last stern look at Harry before leaning down and giving me a kiss on my forehead. "Stay inside and get better, sweetie," she said. "I love you."

Harry watched my mom leave in amusement and laughed once the door was closed. He lifted my legs up and sat at the end of the couch, dropping my legs onto his lap. "Katie's still mommy's little angel—how adorable," he cooed teasingly.

I kicked his stomach lightly, only earning another laugh from him. "Shut up! I think she's having trouble with my moving out," I guessed. "And she definitely doesn't enjoy the idea of me being here with you, of all people."

Harry threw his head back in laughter and I couldn't help but admire his bright smile and prominent, adorable dimple. "I don't see why she hates me so much," he pondered, his fingers absentmindedly stroking up and down my calf. His smile grew a bit when I let out a small shiver. "I like to think I'm pretty likable."

"You thinking never ends well, Haz," I pointed out. "And my mom just thinks you're a cheeky little bastard, as she so nicely put it. She says you've been that way from the first time we met."

His jaw dropped. "I was four years old!" he pointed out. "She was calling a four year old a bastard? Harsh." I'd known Harry for as long as I can remember. My first memory involved him, pushing me into the dirt as we chased each other playing tag. I couldn't even recall how exactly we met; it's been that long ago. Unfortunately, dad got a job offer in the States when I was thirteen, causing us to pack up and move away, leaving Holmes Chapel and Harry. Fortunately, we'd been able to stay in touch quite often, even more so during his journey through the X-Factor. He needed emotional support and I was more than happy to give it to him, given the huge crush I have—I mean had—on him. I'd admitted my feelings to him right before One Direction started their first tour because I could only keep something from him for so long and, oddly enough, he returned them. Despite the mutual feelings, we agreed to just stay friends due to how hectic his schedule was becoming and how I couldn't leave the States. Which brings us to today, old feelings on his part and suppressed ones on mine. "Hello? You there?"

I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard his voice. "Huh?" I asked lamely. "Oh. Yeah, I'm here."

"Daydreaming about me again?" Harry questioned. "Tsk, tsk, Katie. Your mother would not approve. Lucky for you, I can keep a secret," he assured, winking at me. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach before I went into a fit of coughing. "You alright?" he asked, a concerned look on his face while he leaned up, as if he were ready to jump up and save the day.

I waved my hand, waiting for my cough to go away. "I'm fine, mom," I assured him with a smile.

He rolled his eyes, a smile on his face as he fell back into the couch. "You're a twat," he complained. "Here I am, trying to be nice and caring for my sick best friend, and you don't even appreciate me. I'm wounded."

"Nag, nag, nag," I muttered under my breath. I gave him a cheeky smile when he shot me a dirty look. "Small joke," I promised. "If you want to be nice and caring, you'd make your sick best friend hot cocoa."

"You're never pleased, are you?" he asked, but still moved my legs off of his lap and got up, stretching as he did so. My eyes lingered on the sliver of exposed skin above his sweat pants that his risen white t-shirt had exposed. "Up here, Katie."

My gaze shot up to his face, seeing a huge smirk on his face while he pointed at his eyes. "Get over yourself, Harry. You're not that cute." There goes your nose, Pinocchio.

"Be careful, you haven't gotten your cocoa yet," he warned in a sing-song voice as he made his way toward the kitchen. As I listened to him move around the kitchen I sat up, my eyes trailing toward the window. Outside the snow was falling lightly yet quickly. It was calming to watch and almost made me forget about my sore throat and stuffed nose—until I sneezed, that is, causing my throat to burn momentarily. I groaned, my head falling back. I couldn't just sit in here and watch the snow fall. I wanted to be outside, feeling the snow fall on me. "Harry," I called. Only a few seconds passed before he was next to me, setting the delicious-smelling cocoa on the coffee table. He looked up at me expectantly as he took a seat on the floor. "You know what would go great with hot cocoa and make me feel a whole lot better? Going outside."

He scoffed. "You're funny. Your mom would have my throat in a matter of seconds once she found out," he told me.

"Lucky for you, I can keep a secret," I quoted him, causing him to shake his head. "Pretty pretty please, Harry? I'll go out there no matter what you do; you can just keep a better eye on me if you're out there too."

He sighed, his eyes flickering between mine. "I don't know if that's a good idea," he spoke carefully. "I don't want you getting anymore sick either. If you're too sick to visit me in Holmes Chapel in a couple of days..."

"I have a cold," I stressed for what seemed like the millionth time this week. When he didn't say anything, I huffed. "Fine. I just won't take you to the airport tonight." I was bluffing and he knew that. There was no way I wouldn't see him off. I wouldn't be seeing him for another four days and we wouldn't be able to talk too much because of it being Christmas and the time difference.

Harry was also far too stubborn. I usually caved when he wanted something, but he always stuck to what he thought was best. Which is why I was surprised when he sighed once again and stood up, offering his hand to me. "We'll go out on the balcony for a little bit and you're bringing something warm, yeah?" he reasoned, causing me to nod rapidly in response. He chuckled as I stood up quickly, ignoring his hand to grab one of the eleven duvets my mom had stacked on the armchair. I wrapped it around me, holding it closed tightly with one hand while I used the other to grab my hot mug of cocoa.

I was already at the sliding doors when I noticed Harry wasn't following. "What?" I asked self-consciously. He hadn't moved an inch from his spot, his eyes staring at me with an unknown glint in them. He shook his head, a small smile on his face as he followed me. I shook it off and slid the door open quickly, stepping into the cold December air. I held the cup tightly in my hands as I leaned over the railing, trying to feel the snowflakes.

I heard a small chuckle from behind me. "If you drop your cup, I'm not getting it or making you another one," Harry stated.

I turned to him, gasping an overdramatic breath. "So much for 'nice and caring' best friend," I said, sitting beside him on the bench. I sighed. "And here I was, thinking I could count on you."

"You know, I think Lou just might move above you on my list of better best friends," he said in a threatening voice.

I took a big gulp of my cocoa before setting it on the cheap plastic table sitting in front of the bench. "I'm not worried. Nobody can steal my best friend slot," I joked in a cocky tone. I scrunched my eyebrows together. "Aren't you cold?" He hadn't put on a jacket or grabbed a blanket or even put on socks and it was below freezing—there was no way he wasn't cold.

But being his big, bad self, he shrugged. "Not really," he said, although his already red nose and bright red cheeks told me otherwise. I rolled my eyes, tucking my legs underneath me before wrapping my arm around his waist, covering his torso with the blanket as well. I heard him let out a small laugh before wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I situated the blanket so that he was more covered, but his arm remained around my shoulder, keeping me comfortably tight against his body. "If I didn't know any better, Ms. Katie, I'd assume you were making moves on me."

I felt my cheeks heat up a bit. "Shut up," I mumbled against his shirt, too comfortable to think of a comeback or hit him. His body was exceptionally warm, given the current temperature outside, but I wasn't complaining. I had an excuse to be this close to him and I wasn't going to blow it.

"Hey, do you remember when we admitted our feelings to each other?" he asked, his voice now totally serious.

How could I forget is what I wanted to say. I forced out a tiny laugh. "Yeah, I do," I responded. I mentally cursed myself. I couldn't have come up with something a little more intelligent?

I could almost hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. "I was so relieved when you just blurted out that you liked me it was almost pathetic," he admitted.

I didn't really want to talk about it, but his words intrigued me. "Really?" I asked, lifting my head up to look at him.

He had a small smile on his face as he shrugged slightly. "Yeah, it meant you felt the same way. I was feeling almost guilty from not telling you," he explained simply, his eyes flickering to mine briefly before looking straight ahead.

"Good timing I've got then, huh," I said awkwardly, averting my eyes toward the falling snow.

"I guess," he murmured. "Actually, no. Do you agree with what we decided then? Like do you think it's an actual reason for us not to be together?"

I swallowed, sitting up straight. His arm fell onto the back of the bench and the blanket dropped to his lap but I still felt his eyes burning through my skin, waiting for me to look at him and give him an answer. I tentatively met his gaze. "I guess so. You were just starting off and you had no idea how being famous would be. It made perfect sense," I answered honestly. Even if I did wish that we could've been anything but friends, his reasons made sense.

"That's not what I asked," he said, shaking his head slightly, his brown curls following. "I'm asking if you think it's a good reason for us not to be together now."

"I mean, um, if we were to still have feelings for each other, then maybe not. Since we've been able to stay friends through your fame, we could try to work around it. Hypothetically." Harry didn't say anything; he just continued looking at me strangely. As if I wasn't the same Katie he'd known since we were just kids. I shifted a bit underneath his gaze, growing uncomfortable and self-conscious, once again. I probably wasn't the easiest on the eyes right now; my hair was just thrown up and there were piece of hair falling out of the hair band, my face probably resembled a tomato due to my blush and the cold and I kept sniffling every two seconds. I started getting worried—what if my nose was running? Oh God, I'd die of embarrassment. I cleared my throat, not-so-subtly brushing my hand across my nose. All clear. "Did I answer your question correctly?"

The side of his lip curled up ever-so-slightly. "Yeah, I think you did," he said quietly.

I nodded, unsure of what to say next. He'd looked away from me briefly but once again he was looking right at me. I sighed. "Harry, wha-" I was cut off by his lips. Shock took over my body, making me unable to move or even kiss back.

After a few seconds of getting no response, he pulled away. "Or maybe you didn't," he spoke quietly under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. He wouldn't meet my eyes now. "Sorry, I just—sorry."

"What was that for?" I asked, finally gaining control over my body again. I was beyond confused. Harry was still interested? But he'd been on so many dates since that day... Why the hell is Harry Styles so confusing?

He chuckled nervously. "Katie, I really don't think it's that hard to understand," he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"But-but you've been on dates since then," I replied lamely.

His head turned to me, his eyebrows furrowed. "So have you!" he said defensively.

"But you've been on so many more, plus there was Caroline and-" I stopped, becoming unable to process everything, especially after that kiss.

"I'd figured we wouldn't work out. I wasn't going to just mope over the fact I was the reason I couldn't be with the girl I'm in love with and the boys can only be a distraction for so long before they start reminding me of you in silly little ways," he explained.

"The girl you're in love with?" I echoed. I most likely sounded stupid but I didn't care. Harry just kept on making my mind all jumbled and flustered. "You were in love with me?"

He let out a dry laugh. "This cold is really getting to your brain," he said. "I'm in love with you, Katie. I have been since as long as I can remember and I haven't stopped. That's what the kiss was for."

"But why now?"

He shrugged. "It's Christmas Eve. I guess it's just the effect that all these Christmas lights and decorations have on me," he said, chuckling. "And watching you get so excited over the snow, walking around with the duvet swallowing your sick body was just too adorable. Your wandering eyes might've given me some confidence as well."

I grinned. "I feel the same way. I was hardly able to agree to just stay friends," I said. "I was just really caught off-guard with that kiss."

He smirked lightly, turning his body a little bit before leaning toward me. He brought his hand up to my cheek, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "So that means if I kiss you, you'll kiss me back this time?" he questioned.

"I'm sick," I said stupidly. "If you kiss me, you'll probably get sick too."

He shook his head. "That's not what I asked you," he said, inching his lips closer to mine. He stopped a few centimeters away. Unable to answer without sounding dumb, I only nodded. I caught his smile before his lips finally met mine, immediately moving against mine. This time I responded eagerly, pulling him closer by his neck.

Begrudgingly and unable to breathe, I pulled away. "What?" I asked when he started chuckling.

"Your mom's going to kill me, you know that right?" he asked. "Letting you outside and kissing you? Goodbye balls."

I giggled, kissing him quickly. "I'll protect you," I promised. "I love you."

He pressed his lips against mine. "I love you more."