Anti Blue Skies

The next morning I woke up with the overwhelming sensation of a full bladder, an empty stomach, and needing to shower, noting I was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. I stretched my arms over my head and kicked the extremely hot blanket to the end of the couch.

Taking in my surrounds, I remembered I wasn’t in the living room of my apartment, but in the living room of Niall’s exotic beach house. I scratched at my eyes, crusted from day old mascara, before rolling off the leather couch and stumbling into the hall, passing a sleeping Harry on the way out. If I went straight, I would have ended up in the kitchen, if I took a right I would’ve been going upstairs, so I decided to turn left into another wide hallway.

The house was quiet besides the swoosh of ceiling fans throughout the house and the ticking of a grandfather clock near the living room. I tiptoed to the first door on the left, grabbing the handle and opening it just enough to stick my head in. When I was met face to face with a broomstick and cleaning supplies, I sighed and quietly shut the door.

“You lookin’ for something?”

I turned my head suddenly, just enough to witness Niall trudging down the spiral staircase, wearing a pair of navy blue Puma sweatpants, a grey t-shirt, and white socks with a giant hole in the toes.

I nodded, “The toilet actually.”

“All that liquors finally getting to you, is it?” He laughed, kinking an eyebrow as he went towards the fridge.

“Actually, I was mostly drinking water.” I said, brushing a few fingers through my hair. I knew I must have looked like a hot mess. I wasn’t a guy. I couldn’t just wake up, splash some water on my face, then magically be ready for the day.

Niall pulled out a package of bacon and mused a low hum. “Second door on your right,” he instructed, giving me a strange look. “Can you go on your own or do you need a hand to hold for moral support?” He laughed, cutting the top open. “I know how you women work, don’t text a guy first and never go to the bathroom alone.”

I smiled, “I think I can handle it, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” he raised his eyebrows, plugging a griddle into the wall. “Just don’t fall in.”

I quickly slid into the bathroom, feeling more and more awkward with him discussing what I did in my own privacy. If people could talk about it, then they could picture it and I would feel more at peace knowing Niall didn’t have a mental image of me sitting on his toilet. All embarrassing thoughts fled my mind when I flicked the light switch on. The interior of it was astounding, I didn’t understand why someone who lived alone needed three sinks and a shower that could probably fit ten people. His whole house was too good to be true.

When I walked back into the kitchen, I could hear the constant sizzle and crackle of bacon as Niall swiftly threw them on the griddle side by side. The smell of bacon was one of my favorites, and as soon as I breathed, I could almost taste it on my tongue and reminding me of how hungry I was.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he said, pulling a pair of tongs from a drawer just to the left of him. “The fridge is pretty wiped out from last night. All I have left is bacon and a few grapes.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m so hungry I could eat dirt.” I walked up to a chair by the island, lifting myself onto a barstool and letting my legs dangle over the edge.

Niall raised his eyebrows, smiling. “I ate dirt once. It was terrible.”

I laughed, reaching up into my hair and trying to pull it into a messy ponytail. It was getting a little greasy, and with as long as it was, leaving it down was not an option. I watched him flip a strand of bacon over, chuckling slightly when Niall cringed in pain as a speckle of hot grease hit him in the neck. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night, but your place is really beautiful. I’ve always wanted a house on the lake.”

His blue eyes looked up at me, shining brightly from the morning sun rolling in through the windows. “I can’t take all the credit, it’s my dad’s.” He glanced around the room quickly, before staring down to flip another piece of bacon. “We used to only come down here in the summer, but once I turned eighteen he basically shoved the key down my throat. He pays for it and everything.”

My eyes widened, “Wow, what does he do for a living?”

Niall scratched at his nose, still avoiding my eyes. “He’s an architect, designs buildings and shit.”

“And your mum?” I couldn’t help but ask. I was always so curious when it came to other people’s families, maybe because my mom left us, but maybe it was because I wanted to see how other families compared to mine.

“Drug addict, drug dealer, stripper, prostitute. You name it.” Niall said, unplugging the griddle and moving over to the cabinets to pull out some plates. He said it like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but I knew that it was because I did the same thing. I acted like it was okay that my mother cheated and left, like it didn’t hurt, but deep down it was torture.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” I frowned.

He forced a laugh, that if I wasn’t looking at his sad face, I would have actually believed was real. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I haven’t seen her since I was nine. I don’t even know where she is.”

He set a plate down in front of me, then reached across the island to hand me a napkin. I smiled, “If it helps, and it probably doesn’t,” I stopped to think for a moment, feeling a forceful pang in my chest. “I don’t know where mine is either.”

Niall smirked, pouring me a glass of water from the tap. “Then we gotta stick together, eh?”

I smiled, taking the glass from him and taking a small sip. I didn’t know Niall, I had only met him twice, but something told me I’d know him for a long time. I wasn’t going to let him become a stranger because his Irish accent and genuine smile helped ease the constant void in my heart. He could be a really good friend for me, I’d just have to let him.

“Who’s sticky?” Harry emerged from the living room, pushing his hair back with his hand before tossing on his beanie. Of course he looked like a supermodel first thing in the morning, why wouldn’t he? “Did Niall super glue his hand to his trouser snake again?”

“That was one time!” Niall shouted, taking one of the burnt pieces of bacon and throwing it at Harry who was taking a seat next to me. He simply shrugged and placed it in his mouth, chewing down on it loudly. “Lydia was just helping me plan the perfect date for Manny before your pompous ass interrupted.”

I was thankful for his lie, mentally noting that Niall was very quick on his feet. It only proved to me he’d be able to keep up with Manny, which was even hard for me some days.

“Just take her out to dinner.” Harry grumbled, reaching over to pluck more bacon off the pile Niall created.

“No, mate. I want to do something special.” Niall scolded, probably mentally punching Harry in the face. My cheeks blushed, happy he was continuing to prove me wrong from my first impression of him. He wasn’t some big pervert, he was thoughtful and independent.

“Well, what did you have in mind?” I asked him, placing a fist under my chin, ready to listen.

Niall sent Harry a look, like he was scared of what he would say, then looked to me before licking his lips. “I kind of wanted to take her over to Dartford. They have this really cool carnival thing once a year and I don’t know, I wanted to ride the bumper cars or something. Maybe take her for a ride on an elephant.”

Harry scoffed, “I’m sure an elephant won’t be all she rides that night.”

“Fuck you, Harry!” Niall yelled, a chunk of bacon shooting out of his mouth.

I held in a laugh, wanting to make Niall feel comfortable. I didn’t know what had gotten into Harry. He was in a pretty sour mood last night, he wouldn’t let me stray too far and he got into another fight with Quinn in front of a crowed of people. I guess I would be in a bad mood after that too, but sleeping on it sure did the trick because he was extra arrogant and cocky this morning.

“Don’t listen to him, his opinion doesn’t matter.” I told him, ignoring the scowl that was now forming on Harry’s face. “I think Manny will love it. She’s always telling me how she wants someone who thinks outside the box. Also, if you buy her flowers she’ll probably ask you to marry her.”

I watched Niall’s shoulders relax when he eased his weight onto the counter, shoving a grape into his mouth. “Hell, I already have a house. Why not?”

I smiled, about to answer before Harry interrupted. “Because you’d make a bloody awful husband, that’s why.” He mumbled, walking over to Niall and ripping the grapes from his hands, then tossing them into his mouth. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to marry you.”

Niall stuck out his bottom lip, reaching up to pinch Harry’s cheek that was stuffed with a handful of grapes. “But baby,” he whined slowly. “I love you.”

I giggled and Harry shrugged Niall off of him. I liked seeing Harry with his friends. It wasn’t like high school where he would sometimes pretend to be someone he wasn’t, scared his popular reputation would falter. Niall didn’t go to school with us, so I was curious as to how they had become so close, but it was good for him because he didn’t have to worry. His popularity didn’t matter in the real world, so he could let go without a care and have a good time, but he didn’t always allow himself to. That struck a chord with me.

We finished eating and Harry and Niall continued bickering. Last night was no different, they laughed and fought until they were both too drunk to give a damn anymore. That’s when Quinn confronted him and that’s when I decided I would drive us home. He wouldn’t have any of it though, he kept complaining about hating the way I drove and not feeling comfortable leaving his safety in my hands.

“Where’d your toy end up last night?” Niall asked, raising his brows high on his forehead. Harry shook his head, handing Niall his plate to put in the sink.

“How should I know?” He grunted. “It’s not like I keep her on a leash.”

“What if she went home with another miserable bloke?”

I sipped awkwardly on my glass of water, pretending like I couldn’t hear their conversation, but when Harry looked over at me with alert eyes, it was obvious I was a part of this conversation. That didn’t mean I was going to say anything, however.

“Honestly, I don’t care what she does.” He looked from me to Niall, using his pants to wipe grease off his hands. “After last night, I don’t care if I never see her again.”

“You say that now, but you’ll go running back to her as soon as you start thinking with your dick. Which is always.” Niall explained with a laugh, which only made Harry more agitated.

“I’m done with her.” Harry frowned, the crease in his forehead growing. “All she does is put herself first. It’s not my feelings she’s hurting, it’s her own.”

I kept sipping from my cup, staring down at the counter. A part of me felt bad for Quinn, because I knew she wasn’t all bad. There were parts of her that really cared for Harry, and that’s what he would never understand. She got defensive and angry because she cared too much for a boy who didn’t care for her back. That wasn’t an easy situation.

“I think you need to cut her some slack,” I mumbled over the top of my glass.

Harry and Niall both snapped their heads up at me. Niall with a blank expression on his face and Harry with a dark and maybe even hurt expression on his. “No, Lydia, you need to cut me some slack,” he pleaded, pushing himself out of his chair. “Grab your shoes, we’re leaving. I have a splitting headache.”

Without a second glance, he stepped out of the kitchen , followed by a loud slam of the front door. I looked to Niall, scooting off the tall bar stool until my toes could reach the floor. He smiled warmly at me when I put the glass in the sink. “Thanks for letting us stay,” I started, walking to the door and slipping on my boots. “And for cooking us breakfast. It was very kind of you.”

“No, thank you for helping me plan a good date. I haven’t been this nervous to take a girl out in ages,” he smiled, holding the front door open for me. I could smell the lake and forest tree bark before I even stepped outside.

“I didn’t do anything, that was all you.” I showed off my biggest smile before walking down the trail to Harry’s car. He had a pair of sunglasses on, resting his head on the window with one hand holding the wheel tightly.

He honked the horn and I rolled my eyes, picking up my pace to a slight jog. When I opened the door and climbed in, he threw his heavy jacket at me before reversing and pulling out of Niall’s gates. I clutched tightly to Harry’s coat, as he flicked on the heater. Despite the scent of lake water and bug spray, it still smelt like him.

We drove for a long while in silence, passing by the shopping district and bookstores. London was very busy on Saturdays mornings, so I was thankful Harry was driving or else I would be having a major case of road rage.

“I think I’m gonna stay at Niall’s for awhile,” he grumbled, pulling to a stop behind a line of cars at a red light. “To clear my head.”

I nodded, “I understand. You probably don’t want to be around Quinn.”

He stepped on the accelerator as soon as the light turned green, furrowing his brows and tapping his thumb on the wheel. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

I hummed, flicking the radio’s volume up higher as my favorite Drake song played, making Harry sigh. I discreetly danced along to the beat, pulling out my phone to play Candy Crush Saga. I ignored the weird stares from Harry who would casually look over at me with a mocking expression. It didn’t matter to me what he thought, his passenger seat was comfortable and the seat warmer was finally starting to kick in, but I still kept his jacket draped around my torso.

When we finally pulled up to my building, I offered him back his coat and he chucked it in the backseat. I opened the door and unbuckled my seatbelt, twisting my legs over the ledge before hopping onto the pavement.

“Bye, Harry.” I waved to him, pulling my jeans higher. The slouched position I was sitting in caused them to drape further down my waist. “Thanks for the ride, I had a good time last night.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me through his dark sunglasses, but his head was facing me.

I waved one more time, before slamming the door shut. I was halfway to the front steps of my building before I heard a window roll down behind me.

“Wait!” I turned around at his voice, he was crouched over the passenger seat and trying to get a good look at me. “I had a good time too, I mean-- before I got shitfaced.”

I forced a tight-lipped smile and nodded, turning back around to go up to my room. Harry didn’t need to tell me when he was a having a good, I already knew. It was easy to see in contrast to his usual scowl and sour mood.

When I got out of the elevator and strolled down the long hall of my floor, I spotted a man in a red t-shirt and faded jeans standing in front of my door. I couldn’t see who it was clearly, but I knew who I wanted it to be. I stepped closer and Louis’s perfectly coiffed hair and tender blue eyes came into view.

“You must be a psychic,” Louis chimed in, stepping out of the way so I could use my key to unlock the door. “I literally just got here. Didn’t even get a chance to knock yet.”

I chuckled, hoping he couldn’t tell how dirty and greasy I looked. “Nope, not a psychic. Just good timing.”

With a couple jingles and a hard thrust, the door opened and I led him into my apartment. To my surprise, it didn’t smell like smoke from Quinn. I kicked off my boots and Louis followed suit. I was about to tell him he could leave them on, but he got them off too fast, so I figured it was pointless. I walked over to the counter, reaching over to plug my phone into the wall to charge.

“So where were you coming from?” He asked, rest his weight on the island. “Your hair is a bit ratted and your face looks like it could use a good scrubbing.”

I cringed, “Don’t remind me.” I stepped over to Quinn’s door, checking to see if her light was on. It was completely black, but I could hear the light melody of classical rock music playing. “You don’t mind if I take a shower, do you? You can hang out in the living room and there’s drinks in the fridge. Make yourself at home.”

Louis smiled and pinched his nostrils together. “Yeah, go. You smell.”

I laughed, closing myself into the bathroom. The water started out freezing cold like usual, before heating to a warm and comfortable temperature. When I decided it felt decent on my fingers, I stripped out of my clothes before my skin could attach itself to the fabric from wearing it too long.

The water running down my spine was like a giant breath of fresh air. I felt much more alive when I stepped out of the shower squeaky clean, wrapping a towel over myself and tucking it in to wear like a dress, before walking into my room to throw on something casual, deciding on something I could easily sleep in-- a baggy sweatshirt and patterned leggings.

I brushed through my wet hair, leaving it down to air dry and walked into the living room. Louis was sprawled out on the couch, staring intensely at an old rerun of Hollyoaks. I coughed so he knew i was behind him, catching his attention. He looked at me and smiled, then sat up straighter and pulled both of his feet off the coffee table.

He patted the seat and I didn’t hesitate plopping down next to him while he casually draped his arm around my shoulders. “You know, I used to waste hours and hours out of my day watching this show,” he said, giving the show another long glance. “Now it’s just fake with bad acting.”

I giggled, leaning into him further and pulling a blanket over us. “I don’t think it’s all bad,” I stated. “At least the guys are decently attractive. I mean, Ashley Taylor Dawson is a major hunk.”

Louis looked down and squinted his eyes at me, giving me a playful shove. “That’s enough outta you.” He lifted the remote, changing the channel a few times before landing on an episode Doctor Who. “You never told me where you were coming from when you got home.”

My stomach fell. It was a simple question and answer, but for some reason I felt guilty for having been with Harry. If I left out some details, it wasn’t lying. “I was at this party last night and my ride got drunk and wouldn’t let me drive home.”

“A party?” He questioned, shouting into my ear. “And you didn’t invite me?”

I shrugged, “It was a spur of the moment thing.”

“Well, that explains why you looked like you were beaten with the ugly stick this morning.” Louis retorted, doubling over in laughter.

I slapped him in the chest as hard as I could, but he continued chuckling anyways. “I hope it’s still funny when you’re in hell.”

His laughter died down and he held onto my shoulders tighter. I loved moments like these with Louis, he was funny and he could take jokes just as much as he could dish them out. He helped pull that side out of me.

“Now I’m sure coming over here was the right decision.”

I peeked up at him through makeup-free lashes, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, “I kept debating whether or not I should text you, y’know, like I usually do.”

I nodded.

“But then I decided I wanted something more. You probably don’t know this, but I stay up late just to text you. Even if I have work the next morning, it’s like, even that can’t stop me.”

I could feel the heat fill my cheeks as a blush took over. “Why?”

He smiled, scratching the back of his neck. “Just because. The four hours of sleep I get is pretty much worth it,” he said, drawing shapes on my shoulder with his fingers. “And when I text you in the morning, it doesn’t always mean I’m saying ‘good morning’, sometimes it means you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up.” He popped the ‘p’, clearly uncomfortable by how forward he was being.

I got tingles with him so close to me reciting his thoughts, and before I could stop myself, I was clutching the soft fabric of his shirt in my hand and pulling him down towards me. Our noses brushed together, then his smooth lips glided over mine like a breeze on a summer’s day. Hot and cold at the same time.

Chills ran down my spine as he cupped my chin, tilting my head up further. Within a few seconds, our lips smashed together in a more forceful manner as we grew more and more aggressive with one another. The sounds of our erratic breathing drowned out the voices on the t.v. as our legs tangled together on the table. As soon as my nails lightly trailed over Louis’s neck, my phone vibrated loudly on the counter in the kitchen. We ignored the first call, continuing to slip our tongues in each other’s mouths, but when another round of vibrations signalled, I groaned into Louis’s lips. I pulled away, giving him an apologetic look before running into the kitchen. I looked down at the lockscreen and was taken off guard by the sight of Harry’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hello.” I answered, holding my phone to my ear and still slightly out of breath.

“You gotta come into work. Hillary just left with the flu.” Harry mumbled into the receiver. Hillary probably wasn’t even sick, she always did this.

I sighed, “Can’t you find someone else?” It wasn’t possible for him to go through the list of other employers and not find one waitress to come into work. I didn’t want to work, I wanted to get back to lip-locking with Louis who was still waiting patiently for me in the living room. “Call Janice, or even my dad. Please, I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“I don’t care, you’re coming,” he said stubbornly.

“Harry--”

“You got twenty minutes,” he grumbled before hanging up. I could already picture the permanent scowl on his face and the vein in his neck pulsing.

I sighed, walking back to where Louis was sitting.

“Who was it?” He asked, staring up at me with bright eyes and messy hair from me running my fingers through it.

“Harry. He needs me to come into work,” I explained to him, watching as he placed his palms over his knees before standing up.

“Fuck, I hate that guy!”

I tooke Louis up on his offer to drive me because I wasn’t quite ready to leave him yet. Besides, I like the way his car drove smoothly on the road as opposed to the bumpy ride I usually had in my pick-up. I was unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door when Louis turned to me, lips still red and puffy.

“I’ll just text you in the morning then, yeah?” He asked sort of awkwardly, like it was the only thing he could think to say. His hair stood on end from me pulling at it and it was then I realized that I wanted to do that more often.

I sent him a warm smile. “You don’t have to if you don’t want--”

“Lydia,” he interrupted with a laugh. “I want to. I’ll be thinking of you anyways, I always do.”

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and on instinct, I reached over the center console to pull him into a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Before I could pull away, he captured my lips to his and I smiled into him.

I thanked him and said goodbye before I completely lost myself in him again. It was easy to forget about the world around me when my thoughts were so easily clouded with his warm embraces and tender touches. I also couldn’t ignore the fact he smelt like sunshine and everything good about summer.

I walked through the doors of Fletcher’s unamused and slightly pissed off that I even had to work. Harry was just being lazy, there was no way I was the only waitress available. I bet he didn’t even try to call anyone else because he was too busy trying to find another way to force himself into my life and ruin everything good about it.

There was hardly anyone here, I noticed, looking around at a large amount of empty booths and tables. I spotted Ron by the bar, bothering Asher with only his presence as he mixed a few drinks on a tray. I rolled my eyes, knowing fairly well that whatever Ron was going on at the mouth about wasn’t anything I’d want to hear. Or for that matter, not what any decent human being would want to hear.

I clocked in, then walked towards the kitchen before Ron could get a good look at me. A soon as I got close enough, the door swung open with a very distraught Harry carrying an oversized plate full of mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, and breaded fish. If I wouldn’t have taken a step back in surprise, he would have plowed me over.

“Take this to table four,” he ordered, shoving the plate hard into my chest. I clutched onto it as it took my breath away and Harry held the door open with his foot. His white apron was still spiffy and clean, which told me he wasn’t working that hard. Why would he? There was nobody here.

“How about a ‘thank you, Lydia’, for coming into work when I had more important things to do?” I cocked off, but I couldn’t help it. There was just something about Harry that made me mad, mostly because he could do it when he wanted. Like last night, I could handle him, I wanted to be around him.

“Excuse me,” Harry snarled. “You get a ‘thank you’ when you unclog the toilet in the loo and mop the floor by the bar.”

My face fell as he looped his way back into the kitchen, leaving me with a hot plate to give to an elderly man at table four and a damaged ego. After setting the plate down on the table and giving the man a refill on his lemonade, I trudged towards the supplies closet and pulled out the plunger. I scrunched up my nose as soon as I stepped into the bathroom.

After plunging the toilet for all of six minutes, which actually felt like a lifetime, I gave it one last flush then washed my hands in the sink before cleaning off the plunger and putting it back in the closet with a grimace on my face the entire way. I noticed Harry was taking care of a couple customers that came in while I was plunging, which I was thankful for because it wouldn’t have been sanitary for me to serve them any food.

I dodged his weary stare and disappeared into the back room to fill the rolling pal with soapy water and to attach the mop head to the stick, but the more I tried, the more it rejected me. I couldn’t tell how long I had been standing there struggling and cursing to myself before the heavy door opened behind me. I heard the voice before I felt the hand slide across my side to rip the mop from me.

“Here, give me that,” Harry said firmly and I turned just in time to see him effortlessly fasten the mop before dunking it into the bucket. “Go on then, Asher keeps nagging me.”

I sighed and nodded, feeling too exhausted and overwhelmed to put up any sort of fight. I clutched the handle on the bucket and wheeled the heavy soap water out of the back room, through the kitchen, past the dining area, and into the bar, stopping it near the wall. Soaking the mop and straining the bubbles, I was basically just a fly on the wall as people at the bar continued ordering drinks and ignoring me, only paying me any sort of attention when I asked them to lift their feet so I could swipe the floor under their chairs.

By the time I started finishing up, my leggings were soaked and the slippers I was currently using as shoes were all sticky. As I reached for the black handle of the mop, Ron stepped in front of me, grabbing it before I could even touch it with one of my fingers.

“Hey there, Princess.” He spoke low against my forehead as he tilted his head down, causing a string of bumps to trail up my back. “Who let you out of the house looking like this? I think you’d look more appealing in a bed. Let’s cozy up later after our shifts.”

I swallowed, taking a shaky breath. I didn’t know which I hated more, the way he was breathing down my neck or the way his breath always smelled like a mix of alcohol and cigarettes.

I took a step backwards before his fingers could trail any higher on my arm, before searching the bar for anyone who may have noticed us, which no one did. Asher was laughing at a joke one of the customers made as I continued backing myself into a corner. When Ron attempted taking another step towards me, I pulled the dripping mop out of the pal and splashed it near his feet to hold him back.

“Feeling like fighting today?” He grumbled, cocking one of his untamed eyebrows. “That’s okay, I like a challenge.”

My eyes flew to the floor when I started mopping at an increasingly fast pace. “I don’t think you’ll be getting any sort of reward.”

He smirked, spewing out a muffled laugh. “You know, off the shoulder tops look great on you.” He quipped, resting his elbow on the edge of the bar. “I bet they’d look even better off of you.”

I shifted my eyes over to Asher. He was still laughing up a storm and scrubbing down the bar with a small towel. When I looked back at Ron, he was licking his lips and staring me up and down. I felt small and inferior next to him and I hated it. Every fiber of my being burned when he placed his foot over the mop on the floor, my movements coming to a halt.

“I thought you wanted to fight, Lydia.” He said menacingly, but to him it was just another joke no one ever thought was funny.

I tugged hard, but he only stepped down with more weight. A smile grew on his face that I couldn’t stand to look at. I pulled my brows together, looking down at his grungy tennis shoes.

“I don’t think this is funny, Ron.” I said quietly. The last thing I wanted was to cause a scene because if there was anything Ron craved, it was attention.

“Then why am I laughing?” He chuckled, casually stuffing his hands inside his pockets while I gave another tug on the mop. “Everytime you pull, that sleeve of yours falls more and more off your arm. It’s quite the sight.”

With every word that fell from his dirty mouth I began to panic. I drew a shaky hand up to my shoulder, pushing the sleeve of my sweatshirt back up. When he heaved another laugh, I pulled on the handle of the mop harder than I thought possible for my arms that were beginning to feel a lot like noodles. At first, it didn’t budge, but as soon as he lifted his foot abruptly my body went staggering back and my feet slipped around on the puddle of water as Ron’s hand reached out to me.

I fell backwards and hit the ground hard and a ripple of pain shot through me. Immediately, I felt a cold dampness on my back, the undersides of my legs, and all over my hair. My eyes flickered open with the sting of tears behind them. I realized everyone was watching us when chatter stopped and Asher was leaning over the bar, staring down at me as heat rose in my cheeks.

I painfully pushed myself onto my forearms when a pair of hands reached around to my back and pulled me to my feet, wrapping a sturdy arm around me to keep me steady. I leaned into him, knowing by the scent that it was Harry.

“You better back up you worthless fucking prat.” He ordered, glaring at Ron with glowing green eyes. He took a moment, before obeying and taking a few steps back with his hands out in front of him.

I drew out a long breath of air, feeling like I could finally breath. Harry looked down at me, pulling wet pieces of hair out of my face. “Did he lay a hand on you?” He asked slowly into my ear. I could have easily lied and said yes, maybe then my dad would finally fire him and if I got lucky, Harry could throw in a few punches.

I shook my head, “No.”

He frowned, pulling me along as he started walking, clipping Ron’s shoulder with his as we headed outside. “You’re soaking wet. I have an extra shirt in my car if you want it. The pants might be too big, but it’s better than what you’ve got on.”

I forced a smile, “It’s fine, I don’t--”

“Let me rephrase that.” He cut me off, opening the trunk as we approached his car. “Put on my god damn clothes, Lydia.” He smirked, reaching down to pick up a Rolling Stones shirt and grey sweatpants before handing them off to me.

I looked over to the front door of my dad’s bar, then looked back up at Harry who was still wearing a clean apron. I didn’t let myself look at him too long though because then I’d remind myself of the situation he pulled me away from and the ache in my spine.

“Let me just go change.” I stammered, turning to walk back into the bathroom I previously plunged, when Harry grabbed onto my bare shoulder and pulled just hard enough to turn me back around.

“You can change in my car.”

“Harry--”

His face pulled into a snarl and his eyes burned into me. “I’m not letting you go back in there,” he pledged before walking around to open the passenger door. “Please, just get in the car. I promise I won’t look.”

I skeptically let him help me climb onto the seat. Not because I didn’t trust him to look away, but because I did. He shut the door and I quickly kicked off my slippers before struggling to peel my sweatshirt off me. Slouching in the seat, I lifted my legs onto the dash in order to push my leggings down past my knobby knees and off my ankles.

Still lifted off the seat, I stuck both my legs into Harry’s sweatpants before pulling them up and rolling the top over a few times so they weren’t so long. Pulling his t-shirt over my head struck a nerve in me and goosebumps formed on my arms and stomach. In highschool, I wished to be able to wear Harry’s clothes on countless occasions. A part of me wished now it was because he wanted me to, not because he felt like he didn’t have any other choice.

After I pulled my damp hair into a high ponytail, I opened the door and stuck my head out, tilting it to the side to see Harry leaning against the back door with his hands shoved into the apron pockets.

He looked at me and I cleared my throat. “I’m done.”

“Okay,” he mumbled. “Stay there.” He said before walking around to the driver side and getting in next to me.

“What are you doing?” I asked. We had to get back to work, we couldn’t just leave. I learned never to rely on Ron to get the job done and from what I’ve been told, Harry’s a much better chef.

“Taking you home, what’s it look like?” He chuckled, sticking his keys in the ignition and turning it, followed by the roar of the engine.

“But our shift isn’t over yet.” I shot back, looking at him confused.

He placed his hand higher on the wheel, pulling out of the parking lot. “I know.”

“Then turn around.”

He shook his head, looking at me then back at the road as we zoomed through a yellow light. “I can’t do that. You had a rough night and it’s my fault, really. I didn’t need you to come into work, it wasn’t even busy.”

I sat back in my seat with a huff, resting my head on the headrest. A small giggle rolled out of my mouth before I could stop it and Harry glanced over with furrowed brows. “You can’t blame yourself for what Ron does. You’re a much better person than he is.”

I looked to him as his face fell, his knuckles turning white as he clutched onto the wheel tightly. “Am I?”

I nodded, “That’s an easy yes, Harry. I don’t even need to think about it.” I said confidently, and it was true. “It’s like you just care now.”

With that, he loosened his grip on the wheel and turned his head to me, looking away from the road longer than I felt comfortable with. “Lydia,” the corners of his mouth curled upwards, “I always have.”