Witness

It was half-ten and Harry was late.

The last few days, I feared being alone every moment that passed, struggling to spend as much time around others as possible. I took the train to Crewe when Harry went back to London for a couple days and spent as much time as possible in crowded spaces until it was time to go to work. I picked up late shifts with Mary so I wouldn’t have to be home until the wee hours of the morning. And then when I finally did make it home, I lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling with the heaviest object I could find nearby to throw at a moments notice.

I really needed to call the O.E.O. about that gun.

I hadn’t heard shit out of them since they called about Amelia, but I kept my phone at my hip at all times. I found some sort of solace in the fact that they must have had some sort of observation on me – they had to find my new phone number somehow. Maybe they were tracking my credit card. I didn’t know and I didn’t really care. Everything was a blur, a thorough blur of worry and anxiety and being constantly sick to my stomach.

Harry went to London the morning after I got the call and though he called twice a day since, I missed him like crazy. It was amazing how a few simple kisses could change everything. He went from being my annoying neighbor to being my best friend to being some semblance of a love interest. Not much changed aside from the fact that suddenly he was kissing me goodnight. And kissing me good morning. And kissing me at every excuse he could get in between.

And I was kissing him back.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into,” I muttered as I waited impatiently by the window, watching for him to come up my drive. He’d been gone for three days. Three measly days, and I was waiting by the window for him to come back.

What had I been reduced to?

But then I saw that halo of curls emerge from his front door, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t help but break into a smile when I saw his trademark smirk aimed in the direction of window – he could see me waiting for him. But as I examined him, I saw he was in fact not in his running clothes brandishing scones and tea, but instead in dark black jeans, a set of boots, and a faded band t-shirt, his necklaces swinging around his collarbone as he bounded across the busy, busy street.

That reckless boy, Harry. He knew how to live on the edge.

I opened the door as calmly as possible when he finally reached it, trying to disguise how happy I was to see him. Finally, some sort of company that didn’t involve tooling around claustrophobic shops or serving up copious amounts of drinks. Finally, some sort of distraction from worrying about Amelia. Finally, Harry.

“Hey,” I greeted with a wide smile. “I miss-“

But before I could finish my sentence, I was wrapped up in his arms, his lips pressed firmly to mine. The strength went right from my knees as his grasp tightened around my waist, holding me up and pressed flush to his chest. I kissed him back breathlessly, still caught off guard by the way his lips felt as they brushed against mine. Sweet, hopeful, and a little determined. Harry.

And then I was left with heavy eyelids fluttering to see him as he pulled away, a small smirk returning to his lips. “I missed you too,” he murmured huskily, sending my nerve endings into a frenzy.

I was still left winded, any hope at regaining a cool sense of composure around Harry entirely lost. He had a way of doing that with me, returning me to the exact frame that held me together, just me at my barest bones without any of the bluster I built up to protect myself. He had a way of seeing me raw.

“What’s with the nice clothes?” I asked, trying to change the subject so I could get the smarting stars from my eyes. “You’re not going to be able to run very well in those jeans. I’d like to see you try to stretch out in them.”

Harry laughed, giving me a little display of his attempt to stretch in the jeans that were tight against his legs. “I suppose you’re right about that,” he chuckled, trying to touch his toes and failing by several inches. “But then again, I’m the one dressed for the occasion. You’re gonna maybe want to change.”

I quirked my eyebrow at him. “And why’s that, might I ask?”

“Because we’re not going running,” he answered with that mischievous look on his face. “I’m taking you out.”

My heart leapt. We were going to get out of Holmes Chapel? It was always my favorite event to be able to freely go into the city, and it was even better with company. I’d go anywhere with Harry, really, even just to the fish and chips shop for lunch. But he was making this sound like a special event, not just a trip down the road.

“Gimme just one sec,” I groaned teasingly before turning on my heel and going to my room. Harry waited in the doorway like a gentleman while I whipped into a dress and brushed my hair out long at my sides, stepping into a pair of flats before meeting him at the door. He was all smiles upon grazing his glance across me, shaking his head a little.

“Perfect,” he hummed. “Let’s go, then.”

“And go where, exactly?” I asked pressingly, grabbing a jacket from the front closet.

“You’ll see,” Harry hummed with a curious smile before leading me out to the car.

We set off on the road in the exact opposite direction of Manchester, throwing me off entirely. My whole little world revolved around that 30 mile radius – all I knew of England based right there in Cheshire. Harry told stories of his time in London, goofing off with his band mates and preparing to release a new album. He was blasting a phenomenal mix of music, his good taste catching me off guard as we passed a sign for Stoke-on-Trent, and then again for Market Drayton. We were headed south, far, far south, an hour on the road as we passed Shrewsbury and Bayston Hill and were suddenly deep into the countryside.

“Harry, where are you taking me?” I exclaimed finally, a bit impatient with the drive and amazed that he could have kept his mouth shut about where we were going for as long as he had.

Slowly, he pulled off to the side of a country road, grinning at me wildly. “I think you can manage to drive the rest of the way, don’t you?” he asked with a bright light in his eyes. “It’s pretty quiet through here, you can’t be able to get in much trouble. It’ll be fun, right?”

A little panic lit in my heart, frantic to try and dissuade Harry from inviting me into the driver’s seat of his expensive car. I’d never driven on a British road before, with everything flipped backwards from the streets of New York, much less a stick shift.

Much less a car at all.

“Harry,” I mumbled awkwardly. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“Why not?” he demanded, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. The wind of the beautiful October afternoon ruffled his curls, brushing them just across the peaks of his pure green eyes.

“Because,” I stalled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I don’t know how to drive.”

Harry’s smile only grew wider at my words. “Do they only have stagecoaches in Richmond?” he teased, earning a glare from me.

“C’mon, there’s no better time to learn,” he insisted. “I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

His smile was all too convincing. Before I knew it, I was out of the car and in the drivers seat, learning how to turn the key in the ignition.

The rest of the way to our mystery destination was a mess of laughter and limbs, Harry trying desperately hard to keep me from killing the engine while simultaneously encouraging me to go faster and faster still. The wind whipped through the windows, making it hard to see at times, but I couldn’t hardly care. It was the freest I’d felt in a long time.

“Here’s good,” Harry finally said after a few miles, placing his hand on mine on the steering wheel as so to send shivers up my spine. “Now just gently… and shift the gear…”

I ended up killing the engine as I coasted to the side of the road. Harry’s expression turned bewildered before glancing over at me, and the both of us falling into a fit of laughter. It had gone well until then, at least.

“This is it,” he hummed, gesturing out the car window to absolutely nothing. Not a town, not a milestone, not a car was around. Just an enormous hill right beside us. Harry proceeded to pull a few things from the back of the car and roll out the side, stretching his legs with a groan.

“What are we doing, Harry?” I demanded finally, still in the drivers seat.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he chided, poking his head back through the door. “I’m taking you on a proper picnic in the British countryside. C’mon.”

He was so perfect, I didn’t know whether to swoon or to puke.

I abidingly got out of the car, watching as Harry climbed the hill with expert ability despite being in those restricting jeans and carrying a load of a basket and a blanket. With a sigh, I kicked off my shoes and climbed after him in my hands, struggling towards the end to reach the summit.

“Harry, if I were aware we were going on a hike, I would have just stayed in my-“

But he cut me off with a hush, gesturing out to whatever was in front of him. I opened my mouth to tell him not to shush me, but the breath was taken right from my lungs at the sight before me.

It was as though all of England was laid right out in front of us. Plush rolling hills went for miles, green and speckled with trees for as far as the eye could see. Only at the horizon did it meet the pale blue sky, clear as a crystal. The only sound around us was the wind whistling through the long grass at the base of the hill.

It was like we were the only people in the whole world. I’d never felt so safe.

“Welcome to South Shropshire,” he hummed softly.

“Harry,” I breathed, only to realize he was already setting up beside me. I lost myself in the beauty before us for a moment, not even noticing that he’d already laid out the picnic on a plaid blanket right at the peak of the hill.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he replied, smiling. “Just come eat.”

That boy sure had a penchant for words unsaid.

He’d made sandwiches with roast beef and Swiss cheese, accompanied with a bowl full of diced up fruit and a bag of crisps. And just as I was biting into my sandwich, he popped open a bottle of that same wine he loved so much. I shook my head and smiled.

“I figured we could drink straight from the bottle, if you don’t mind.”

“I certainly don’t.”

So we sipped from the wine and ate our lunch in contented silence, surveying the breathtaking scene of South Shropshire. After a while, Harry broke out a radio and told me about all sorts of things – about his childhood hopes and dreams, his parents’ divorce, his sister Gemma. I lay next to him as he murmured about soccer games and university and how everyone started to treat him differently once he made it out of Holmes Chapel.

“It’s hard when you feel like no one likes you for you anymore, you know?” he said in just barely a whisper, gaze guided toward the sky. “When everyone is focused on my career and who they think I ought to be rather than who I am to begin with. You know?”

I nodded silently, my fingertips ghosting his at our sides.

“That’s why I like you,” he murmured to me.

A hot rush of blush flooded my cheeks as I resisted the urge to kiss him again right then and there. We needed to take it slow. Everything was still so confusing. I was still so confused.

“What was it like growing up in Virginia?” he asked, causing my heart to drop into my stomach. Yet another time that I would be forced to lie to him about my past.

Or maybe an opportunity to tell the truth. The choice was mine.

“You know when I told you I needed to Skype my parents?” I murmured after a moment, and he laced his fingers with mine. “I know I wasn’t being honest, but I don’t think you know just how much. I… I don’t have parents. I grew up in a foster home.”

Harry was silent, not even a breath rising from his broad chest.

“My mom died in childbirth and I never knew my father,” I continued, keeping my gaze away from him so I wouldn’t see his surely troubled reaction to my honesty. “He never came looking for me, so I never went looking for him. All I ever knew was foster care, and I was happy enough there. I had Susan, who was enough of a mom, and more brothers and sisters over time than I can remember. It wasn’t glamorous, but I survived. It let me dream big to pass the time, which I guess is what got me here.”

He was silent still, the grip of his hand ever-present against mine. My heart pounded in my chest, anxious for his reaction. I tried to keep my mouth shut and wait for him to answer, but that was proving difficult.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I murmured shakily. “It’s just… meeting you has been an opportunity to be exactly who I am without anything else defining me. You know?”

Harry was quiet for a moment, before turning his head to face me. “Yeah,” he replied softly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

With that, he pulled me to him and kissed me with the softest of intentions, and I knew that somehow, the stars had meant for me to meet Harry Styles. Somehow, he had always been in my cards. And somehow, I managed to find him.