Breathe

I got the call for my first job interview as a postgrad in July.

I was on my way to Zayn, Liam and Louis’ flat with Liv to meet them for a group dinner because Zayn and Zoe were finally back from the States and we were all desperate to see them and hear about all the things they did. The adorable duo wanted to do something low key and stay at home because they were both tired from their travels, so we figured a night in with everyone would be better than meeting at some pub. This was also the first time that I was seeing everyone else since the party last month, which was expected because we got so busy despite it being summer hols. We were all traveling in and out of London from home throughout the past two weeks to see our families, trying to find a job, starting jobs and getting settled.

I knew Liam was traveling to and from Birmingham to find a flat, as well as some decent roommates, because come September he would be interning at Virgin Atlantic. Layla was on the same boat, still trying to find a flat that worked for her as well as her budget, while also starting her internship. Niall had gotten a call back from Metropolis, a top recording studio in the UK, and Louis was getting callbacks left and right from theaters and agencies. Liv was barely ever home because she was always running errands for the law school she chose. And I was pretty sure that Harry was on the same boat because he mentioned that, for the one or two times we talked, that he was checking out City Law School.

Which left me, scrabbling about to find some sort of balance on how to be an adult because I was doing a terrible job so far. I felt like all I ever did was apply for a thousand jobs a day and then sit about wondering where the fuck I was going in life. It was hard being a twenty two year old who was just starting out on her own and having about ten existential crises a day. On top of that, Liv had mentioned to me that the lease on our flat needed to be renewed every summer, so we had to decide what we wanted to do this year. It was undecided if I was going to be living in London, depending on where I got my job, since I was applying all over the UK and even in Europe. Liv would have to find another roommate if I had to move, and we were hoping it would ultimately be Layla, since she needed a place to stay that wasn’t her boyfriend’s flat.

It was something I’d decided when I saw how quick my friends were progressing and I was still struggling. If no one in London needed me, it wouldn’t hurt to find places in other cities that would. I’d also come to realize over the past few weeks that change was inevitable and it was always going to be coming, so I might as well make some decisions that could alter my future rather than letting curveballs be thrown my way. I wanted to do something big -- like a distanced move to change how things were for me because with recent events and my breakup, I was craving something new.

So, when I got the call from a company I applied to in Manchester asking for an interview as soon as possible, as in the morning after, I said yes a million times in a rush from excitement, only to realize once I hung up that I had no idea how I was going to get there within this small frame of time. It was foolish of me to agree without thinking through all the things I had to do, like figure out when the first train left for Manchester, how long the commute to the office was, when and what I was going to pack with me and essentials I needed to take such as more copies of my CV, proper business clothes. Fuck.

I was a complete ball of stress by the time Liv and I got to the boys’ flat. Everyone greeted us with hugs and kisses and by God, Zayn and Zoe looked so tan and beautiful, glowing from their little vacation. And while I was happy to see them, I was anxious and freaking out, biting my nails and zoning out of whatever conversation everyone else was having.

“What’s up, Blair?” Liam asked, having noticed my internal meltdown since arriving. I looked at him, like a deer caught in headlights, and noticed that everyone else was staring back as well. I had been so distracted and caught up with the news that I didn’t even notice Harry was sat right across from me, one leg up on the coffee table, staring at me with a concerned expression on his face. I couldn’t even remember if we said hello to each other or not.

“Nothing,” I replied finally, tucking in the strands of my hair behind my ear and rubbing my face. “Just got some good news, but I’m a little stressed out is all.”

“What happened?” Zoe asked. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, she got a job interview! In Manchester!” Liv announced for me, giddily.

The room erupted in cheers, everyone congratulating me and those nearest giving me hugs. Harry didn’t move from his spot, instead offered a small smile from where he was sat, blue snapback on loose and backwards while chewing on gum. He looked like a proper douchebag and I wondered why that was so attractive to me at that moment.

“That’s amazing,” Layla said. “You’ve been dying to hear back from someone and it’s finally happening. No need to stress out. When is it?”

“That’s exactly what I’m stressed about,” I explained with a shaky laugh. “I got too excited and sort of told them I’d go tomorrow morning.”

Silence ensued within the room as everyone finally realized why that was bad. Manchester was a good 2-4 hours away even via car or train, so getting there was going to be an issue. “Why would you tell them that?” Louis asked. “You’re going to be in such a rush.”

“I don’t know,” I groaned, throwing my head back on the couch. “I have to prepare everything tonight. My clothes, extra CV’s, tickets -- fuck, I have to get the first train tomorrow and figure out if it’s enough time to get to the interview because I have to get either a bus or a taxi to get to the office. And I also don’t know what I’m going to say when I get there -- interviews are hard, right? They ask insane stuff and expect you to be perfect?”

“It depends,” Niall said, laughing at my hysteria -- the twat. “My interview with Metropolis was super chill and I just wore jeans and my Eagles t-shirt.”

I rolled my eyes at that before saying, “Well, I can’t do that for a big shot IT company, now can I?”

Niall snickered unhelpfully and walked to the kitchen with Zayn to check on dinner, while everyone else stuck around trying to help me figure out my plan. Louis was on his phone looking up train times to match up with travel time to the office while Liv and Layla were mentally checking off the outfits I could wear and Zoe and Liam were trying to prep me by asking me interview-esque questions.

Thank God for friends.

It was only Harry who wasn’t really doing anything. He was lounging on the sofa, his arm behind his head, watching us quietly while still chewing on that stupid piece of gum. It was irritating me whenever I looked over at him. His brows were scrunched up in this cute way and his muscles were bulging, so I kind of wanted to kiss him while punching him at the same time. Why wasn’t he saying anything? What was he thinking about? Either way, I was too busy stressing out to care that much, instead having three different conversations with everyone on what I should do. But then, Louis broke the news.

“Even if you get the first train to Manchester tomorrow, you’re still going to be late by an hour for your interview because of the bus route you have to take from the train station,” Louis said, my face falling at the news. “Unless you take a cab and then --.”

“I’ll drive you,” Harry piped up before Louis could finish.

Everyone quieted down, turning to look over at him, surprised he was actually speaking for what felt like the first time that night. Harry raised his eyebrows at me in question, like he was waiting for a response right away, but I was sort of stuck.

“What?” I mumbled out.

“I’ll drive you tomorrow,” he said matter of factly. “We’ll get up early and road trip up there and that way you won’t be late.”

This stumped me because it kind of felt like a big deal since the gesture was so huge. The trip was four hours and we’d have to get up super early to make it. This was a huge sacrifice and I had no idea why Harry wanted to do that for me given the state of our friendship. I knew friends did nice things like this for one another, but Harry was my ex and we were still trying to find a line between friends and more than that. However, it was Harry, and he was sweet and kind and despite everything we were still there for each other.

When Harry called me at four in the morning because he was feeling lost and needed me, I still talked to him, despite not knowing where we stood or the fact that we weren’t doing so well then. We had both cried on each other’s shoulders numerous times, sometimes together and sometimes alone. Whenever I snored in bed, he wouldn’t get annoyed because I wouldn’t get annoyed when he drooled on me, so we were even. It could be something as small as that or something as big as driving me to Manchester, but I started to realize that Harry and I would always be there for each other because we cared about one another.  

“What do you say?” Harry asked again.

“Okay,” I said with a soft sigh. “I’ll go with you tomorrow.”



Harry arrived at my doorstep when the sun was barely trickling up. I trudged down my steps and climbed into his car, throwing my small duffel bag in the back before pulling my feet up despite wearing my dress pants. This was going to be a long ride. Harry eyed me warily, looking far better than I felt in his black, ripped skinny jeans and flannel that was barely buttoned up. It was unfair that he looked this good at the arse crack of dawn while my face was puffy and pale from lack of sleep.

“Morning,” Harry said as I settled in. “You -- um, you ready? What’s with the bag?”

“Yeah, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be and those are just some extra sets of clothes.”

“Alright,” Harry responded easily as he pulled out of his spot and started driving. “Sounds cool.”

“I just figured if I sat in a car for four hours in my interview clothes then they might get wrinkled. It’s precaution, really. Plus, I couldn’t decide what to wear and got too excited and packed like four different outfits as well as other things I probably won’t need, but figured I might as well. I’m hoping as time goes on it’ll just come to me what I want to wear because I’m not too sold on the one I’m wearing right now.”

Harry chuckled, his dimples sinking in as he gave me a smile. “Reasonable.”

We drove in silence for a while, Harry’s iPod playing the newest Phillip Phillips album softly in the background while I took cat naps. I felt bad sleeping, though, because it wasn’t fair to Harry who was driving me all the way up to Manchester when he really didn’t have to. I should be conversing with him, keeping him company.

“How are you?” I asked him with a yawn. “Sleep well?”

Harry shrugged in response. “I slept okay, I suppose -- you know me. Got some coffee, though.” He gestured down to the two cups I hadn’t noticed sat in the console behind the gear shift. Fuck, how out of it was I?

“Thank you,” I smiled, reaching for mine and sipping on it to see it was already cooled down. “That was so nice of you. I really can’t thank you enough for doing all this.”

“It’s fine,” Harry said with a warm smile. “It’s what friends are for -- doing nice things for each other and being there when the other is in need.”

“True,” I replied, sipping my coffee. “How’ve you been, though? Ready for law school at all?”

Harry shook his head with a shaky laugh. “Barely. Right now, I’m dreading it, but I know further down the line when summer’s ending and I’ve done nothing but party the entire time, I’ll be excited.”

“I’m sure you will be. Two more years and you’ll be proper professional.”

“We’ll see if I can pass first,” Harry snorted. “I went by the Uni a few times and it was intimidating. Everyone was dressed in dress pants; button ups that were tucked in and I had rolled up in my ripped jeans and Theta Chi t-shirt. It was terrible.”

I burst out laughing, practically spitting out my coffee at the image of Harry showing up in that attire in front his future law school classmates. “That’s amazing,” I wheezed out. “You would.”

Harry smiled sheepishly with a shrug. “I know better than to do that again. What about you? Excited about this interview?”

“I am, yeah,” I nodded. “It’s my first one and it’s a really huge company, so, I’m hoping to go there and charm their pants off.”

“I’m sure you will. You’re charming as fuck.”

“Thank you, thank you. I try my best...learned a bit from the master himself.”

“The master?” Harry laughed.

“You, of course.”

“Aw shucks,” Harry swatted at me bashfully in a dramatic manner and making me giggle. “That’s sweet, but no doubt you’ll charm them by just being yourself. You’ll do amazing, B.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at him, catching his eye briefly before he turned to face the road again. It felt nice to be talking like this again, like old days when things weren’t as hard and I wondered if we were finally doing it right this time around rather than whatever we did before these past two months. May was extremely difficult to get through and June was a disaster now that I looked back at it, but maybe July could be better.

“So, does this mean you’ll be moving out here?” Harry asked after some time.

“I’m not sure. Maybe -- we might have to move anyway because the lease for our flat is up. It might end up happening that if I get this job, I will move out to Manchester and Liv and Layla will renew the lease together. We’re really not sure of what’s going to happen.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, adding a slight pause in the conversation before speaking again. “Does that make you nervous? I mean...moving away from all your friends and family?”

“It is nerve-wrecking, but I think I’m ready for some change. Might be good for me because London is starting to feel a little old.”

I didn’t want to mention the fact that a big chunk of it might have to do with our breakup, but it was mostly because I didn’t want to admit it to myself despite how true it was. When you go through a lot of pain, whether it be heartbreak or a series of bad luck, you automatically want to remove yourself from the place where the pain came from. London was my place with Harry -- we spent so much time in every corner of it for the past year that I felt like I couldn’t properly heal if I stayed here. Most days, I put on a brave face because that was who I was. However, I still had my days.

Harry grew quiet again after what I said and I didn’t add on anything else, instead finding myself slowly falling asleep again.



I walked out of my interview feeling absolutely elated and relieved, like I was on cloud fucking nine and could do anything and everything at that moment. The past twenty four hours was above and beyond stressful added on with a bundle of nerves, but now that it was done and over with, I felt great. The interview itself was perfect. I arrived perfectly on time, thanks to Harry, and charmed the pants off of them just like I wanted.

When I walked out of the building, I was grinning wide while making my way over to where Harry was parked, sitting on the hood of his car and scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he heard my footsteps and gave me a silly wave.

“Alright?” I asked, once I walked over and stood in front of him.

“I’m alright,” Harry nodded with a smile. “How was the interview? Did you kill it or what?”

“I think I killed it,” I nodded with a happy, giddy giggle. “They were really nice -- offered me tea when I walked in and showed me around -- the office is so pretty, Harry. I was dying. And everyone there was just super cool and I could totally see myself fitting in here.”

“That’s great,” he chuckled, patting the spot next to him for me to sit. I pulled myself up carefully, Harry offering his hand to help, crossing my legs quickly so no one could see up my skirt. When we had stopped at a service station during the trip to get more gas, coffee, and food, I made a quick run to the ladies room to change into another outfit. My dress pants had not only wrinkled from my nap, but I hated the color of my top with the color of my lipstick, so I changed into my black pencil skirt and a crisp white button up.

Simple, but classic. Although, Harry did say I looked sexy, so I couldn’t tell if it was professional or not because sexy was never the word to describe someone who was trying to dress for an interview. Harry tried to reassure me by saying it was more of a sexy secretary look, but I wasn’t sure if I completely trusted him on that. Good ego boost, though.

“It was great,” I agreed with Harry, not able to wipe the beam off my face. “They asked me a ton of great questions that I was able to answer and said they were really happy they got to meet me. One of them even told me I’m a shoe in and that they’ll call me again later for another follow up.”

“Look at you,” Harry poked teasingly. “Being an adult and doing interviews and getting along with all the people in the office. Proud of you, Gallagher.”

“Thank you,” I giggled, letting my voice trail off as the two of us quieted down. I looked over at him. “So, back home? We have to grab a bite on the way, though, because I’m starving.”

“Actually,” Harry said, running a hand through his hair and looking a bit nervous. “You might hate me for this, but I picked up a call from my mum a little while ago when I was waiting for you and she wants us to go home to her for tonight -- and well -- I mean we are a bit tired, aren’t we? We could go over and she could give us some homemade food, we’ll sleep and head out early tomorrow for London.”

“You live close by?” I asked him, surprised by the turn of events.

Harry nodded. “About twenty miles north from here. So, what do you say? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I didn’t know how to say no after she asked for the fifth time.”

I pressed my lips together, not knowing what to say, really. Meeting Harry’s parents was a really big deal and I felt like one big accomplishment a day was enough; I didn’t really want another one. However, there was no way I could say no when Harry was asking so nicely and was looking at me the way he was currently -- all doe green eyes and pouty pink lips. We had always talked about me visiting Harry’s town and his childhood home...I just didn’t think it’d happen now that we’d broken up. Guess I was wrong.

“It’s fine,” I assured Harry, smiling at him. “We can stay the night at your parents. I feel like it’s the least I owe you after all that you did for me today.”

Harry smiled gratefully. “You don’t owe me anything, Blair. I’m glad I could help you, but yeah, I wouldn’t wanna turn around when I’m so close to home. Last time I was there was before the party back in June, so I think a drop by wouldn’t hurt.”

“Let’s head on out then. I’m starved,” I said, getting back onto my feet and walking to the passenger seat.

“That’s good,” Harry said excitedly, following me and going to the driver's seat. “Mum’s made her chicken pot pie and that shit is amazing. I’m drooling just thinking about it.”

“At least you’re drooling while you’re awake and not when you’re asleep like you usually do.”

“Fuck you.”



Holmes Chapel was exactly how Harry described it -- quite picturesque. It was a small town filled with narrow streets and lots of meadows, exactly like how a small village up in the north of England would look. When Harry pulled in front of his house, we climbed out of the car and walked up the front steps, ringing the bell. Anne opened the door right away, a smile on her lips as she hugged us and led us inside.

“Come in, come in,” she said. “How are you both? Tired?”

“A bit, yeah,” Harry replied, giving a dramatic yawn and running a hand through his hair.

Anne smiled at him fondly, hugging him around the waist again and not letting go before turning to look at me. Instantly, I knew I made the right decision to come because they both looked genuinely happy and I was glad I was able to see it and let that happen. “How was your interview, Blair? Did you do well?”

“I think so,” I nodded with a smile. “It was good -- hoping to hear back from them soon.”

“That’s amazing. I do wish you the best of luck and want to say thank you for coming over.”

“Thank you for having me,” I replied. “This was so nice of you and in such short notice at that.”

“Of course,” Anne said, messing about with Harry’s hair while he resisted. “Couldn’t send you lot back when you came all the way. I’ve got lunch ready for you both. You can take a nap afterwards if you’d like. Harry mentioned it was an early trip, so you both must be tired.”

“Sounds neat,” Harry said. “When’s Robin coming home?”

“In a few hours,” Anne said. “Busy day at work. He’ll be joining us for dinner, though, we’re making roast.”

“My favorite,” Harry smiled, giving her a thumbs up.

Anne noticed my small duffel bag then and turned back to Harry. “Why don’t you go put Blair’s things in Gem’s room? She’ll be staying there tonight.”

“On it,” Harry saluted, picking up my bag and running up the stairs, leaving me with Anne.

“We’ll head on to the kitchen, yeah?” she smiled.

I nodded and followed her through the living room and dining room, only to slow down once I got a look at all the pictures they had hanging on the walls and in frames, placed over mantels. The kitchen was adjacent to the dining and living rooms, so while Anne went to get plates and utensils, I took a look at all their pictures. There were family portraits, lots of events like graduations, weddings, birthdays, and a lot of baby pictures. Some of them were of Gemma, but many of Harry, too.

Harry was as cheeky as a baby as he was now. He was smiling in every picture, throwing in winks and dorky thumbs up in some of them. There were pictures of him dressed as a pirate for his birthday, others from school, playing with his toys on a small, twin sized bed, and even one where he was wearing a large bra over his shirt and putting up a fist. The last one made me laugh. It was strange looking at someone’s baby pictures because you could see that so much has changed, obviously, but a lot was similar. Harry smiled the same Cheshire cat smile, his eyes were just as big and green, and many of his mannerisms were still the same. It was so endearing that I couldn’t look away, continuing to gaze at every last picture until I memorized them into my brain.

“He was the most precious baby,” Anne said, catching me staring and snapping me out of my daze.

“Looks like it,” I said, moving over to help her set the table.

“Always a good boy -- never disobeyed me or gave me a hard time. Got on with his sister really well and sang along to every last one of her latest boy band obsessions and the Spice Girls.”

I smiled, feeling even more endeared than before. I couldn’t tell if it was weird that I wanted to go back in time and meet Harry when we were younger just so I could see how he was then. I weirdly felt jealous of anyone who’d met him before me, anyone who got to experience how he was at every stage in his life because I was sure he was as amazing as he was now.

Anne and I finished setting up the table, brought out some soft drinks and then the chicken pot pie she had prepared from before. It smelled so delicious that I couldn’t help but sneak small bites since Harry was taking forever upstairs. By the time he got down, I noticed he had changed out of his clothes and had freshened up with a shower. I narrowed my eyes at him and Harry caught my look, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he said. “Couldn’t help myself. Felt rather icky after all the service stop wee breaks. You can go ahead and freshen up, too. I left your things in Gem’s room.”

“It’s fine,” I replied. “I’ll do it afterwards. I’m ready to eat.”

“Same,” Harry agreed, sitting down in his place.

The three of us began eating and Anne asked us several questions about summer, London, and our friends. It was during one of Harry’s slow monologue stories about some floral shirt he bought from YSL that I noticed a picture on the wall of Harry in a footie uniform. I couldn’t help the smile that spread on my face and Anne noticed it, following my eyesight.

“Harry was on the footie team all throughout his primary and secondary years,” she told me proudly. “He never gave up and was so dedicated, weren’t you, Harry?”

“Mum,” Harry whined, despite his smile. “I should have told you to hide the pictures.” His eyes flitted around the room as he noticed just how many there were, cheeks turning a bright red and making me laugh. He turned to look at me with an unamused expression. “Not funny. I’m going to your house next to look at all your embarrassing baby pictures.”

“Your pictures aren’t embarrassing,” I insisted. “You were very cute as a baby.”

Harry smirked at me, teasingly, while nodding his head with a knowing look, almost like he was too pleased with the compliment and being a bit flirtatious. So, then I started blushing, the warmth from my cheeks spreading to the tip of my nose. I rolled my eyes at Harry, making him chuckle, before concentrating on finishing my lunch. Once the three of us were done eating, Harry and I helped Anne clean everything up before going upstairs. Harry showed me to the room where I’d be sleeping, my bag sat beside the bed. I thanked him and started freshening up in the bathroom only to realize that I had nothing to actually sleep in.

Crap.

I emptied out everything from my bag and slumped on the floor, wondering how uncomfortable it would be to sleep in a pencil skirt and a dress shirt because other than that it was itchy dress pants.

“Alright?” Harry asked, peeking in a little later.

“Perfect,” I replied a bit too sarcastically.

Harry frowned as he walked further inside. “What happened?”

“I don’t have anything to wear,” I sighed, showing him all the dress pants, shirts, blazers, and a silk scarf that I’d brought as options.

“Why didn’t you just say?” Harry asked, disappearing out the door and walking back in with a pair of his pajama bottoms and t-shirt. Harry had a point -- why didn’t I just ask? Probably because it was weird to ask to borrow your ex-boyfriend’s clothes while staying with him at his parent’s house.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I said, grinning to Harry before taking the clothes from him and putting it on the bed beside me. My fingers were just about to start unbuttoning my shirt when I realized Harry was still standing there. I didn’t know whether it was odd or funny that I instinctively started to undress myself in front of Harry without a second thought because I was that comfortable around him. When I didn’t do anything, Harry raised his eyebrows in question. “You just going to stand there?”

Harry’s lip quirked into a smirk -- that dick. “Well, it’s not anything I haven’t seen before,” he said.

“Oh my god,” I groaned, despite laughing. “You’re shameless and gross and weird.”

“Right,” Harry said sarcastically before slowly walking out the door and throwing a wink at me before he went.

I shook my head at him disapprovingly before finally changing out my clothes and getting into bed for that much needed nap -- one that wasn’t in a moving car. It was hard, though, considering the fact that Harry was only a few steps away -- down the hall, actually -- and it felt weird not being with him. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed with him even if it was to sleep and nothing more. I missed cuddling, missed his arms wrapping around me and missed just being with him.

I hated how rapidly my mood could change when it came to him. There were days where I knew I was okay or at least knew I was going to be because it’d been more than two months and with time everything healed, but times like these when I spent all this time with him and remembered how well we fit just made me ache. We could be doing absolutely nothing and we’d still have a good time together -- we’d still have that connection.

This trip was good for us and things really seemed to be headed in the right direction as far as our friendship went, but there was still a part of me that wondered if I was over him or if I was only kidding myself. So far, I’d been optimistic and just kept going because there was nothing else I could do. However, it was easy and naive to say that everything would be okay and that I could continue living with this forever, but nothing actually lasted forever. Things always changed.



The nap I took in the middle of the day made it literally impossible for me to sleep later on that night. I’d headed up to bed a little after dinner with Harry, Anne and his stepdad, Robin, expecting to be able to fall asleep instantly since when I woke up from my nap, I was still feeling tired.

Yeah, not so much.

I was lying there wide awake, looking around the dark bedroom at all different things Gemma had hanging up on her walls, from band posters to her graduation picture with her family, feeling infinitely creepy for doing so. I wondered if everyone else was asleep or unlucky like I was. We had a quiet day in after all. When I woke up from my nap earlier, I found Harry playing Scrabble with his mum downstairs, laughing at him internally for a full ten minutes for being such a dork at home. Once I was done, I sat around and watched them go against each other with their cat, Dusty, sat on my lap until Robin came from work and greeted us. In the end, Anne was declared the winner, much to Harry’s chagrin and close call.

Dinner was interesting to say the least. We had roast, as Anne promised, with potatoes and other veggies on the side, and pie for dessert. The interesting part was that Anne and Robin seemed to know a lot about me already without me having to tell them anything, so it was safe to assume Harry spoke about me just as much as I spoke about him to my own family. For example, they knew my major, what I wanted to do in the future, my living conditions, the fact that I liked my tea cold. It was a little weird, but I found myself being happy about it.

Harry for the most part seemed embarrassed that they were talking to me like they already knew me. He didn’t try to stop them, though, merely nodding along to whatever the topic of conversation was. After dinner, the four of us went to the living room and Anne popped in the DVD of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. Halfway through, the couple started snoozing and Harry felt bad so he turned off the movie and told them we should all head to bed.

So, here I was.

Not able to sleep and bored. Had it been how it was a few months ago, I’d have easily slipped out of bed and asked Harry to go for some coffee and chat because that was what I’d gotten used to thanks to him. It wasn’t the same, though, and I couldn’t quite do that so easily. But maybe I could keep doing it on my own rather than with him -- coffee runs weren’t limited to just two of us or none of us. I was sure he’d understand.

I slipped out of bed, grabbing my phone off the side table, and quietly walking out of the room. I could Google some 24-hour coffee shops within the vicinity and walk over to get a cuppa. No one would have to know. Plus, this walk would help me fall asleep once I got back and all would be well. I tiptoed my way over to the stairs and then paused because the lights were on. That was strange because when we came upstairs it was turned off. Who else was awake and would they still let me get coffee?

I checked the time on my phone as I made my way down the stairs, reading 1:32 AM, before looking into the kitchen to find Harry sat up on one of the counters. He glanced over at me, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What are you doing up?” I asked at the same time as him. The two of us looked at each other for a moment before laughing.

“Wow,” he said, grabbing an apple off the counter and throwing it up in the air before catching it in his palm. “I should have known.”

“I feel like I should have, too,” I told him, playfully. “You never sleep.”

“Yeah, so that was no surprise. Question is why aren’t you sleeping?”

I sighed, shrugging and leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen. “That nap we took fucked me up and now I can’t fall asleep. I was actually coming down to get coffee -- was going to Google 24-hour coffee shops.”

Harry laughed, grinning as he grabbed another apple and tossed them in the air and juggled them. “It’s Holmes Chapel -- there are no 24-hour coffee shops.”

“You’re kidding,” I groaned.

I slipped out of bed, grabbing my phone off the side table, and quietly walked out of the room. I could Google some 24-hour coffee shops within the vicinity and walk over to get a cuppa. No one would have to know. Plus, this walk would help me fall asleep once I got back and all would be well. I tiptoed my way over to the stairs and then paused because the lights were on. That was strange because when we came upstairs they had been turned off. Who else was awake and would they still let me get coffee?

“You were going to have your own little coffee run without me,” I gasped.

“So were you until you got caught!”

“Either way, I’m offended.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt you during your deep slumber,” Harry teased. “Especially if you were snoring like you were this afternoon.”

“Fuck you,” I grumbled with a roll of my eyes. “So obsessed with my snoring.”

“Not even going to deny that,” Harry said, now onto three apples. It was impressive and shouldn’t be as attractive as I was finding it. Instead of ogling at him and his thin tank top, I walked over to the coffee pot, waiting for it to finish brewing. Once done, Harry hopped off the counter and helped me pour two mugs of coffee, adding in our preference of milk, sugar or cream.

I blew on my coffee, waiting for it to cool a bit, while Harry sipped his tentatively. We both hopped up on the kitchen island and dangled our feet below us. “Thanks for bringing me here,” I told him, cutting into the silence. “Letting me stay and all that. Your mum and stepdad are super nice.”

“Thank you for coming,” Harry smiled. “I’m glad you got to meet them...I wanted you to. I wish I could show you more of Holmes Chapel other than my house, but there really isn’t much to do here unless you like walking around in small town streets and parks.”

I laughed. “It doesn't sound too bad. Maybe next time. Tell me more about your childhood, though. Give me some juicy details.”

“You know all about my childhood,” he reminded me.

“Tell me again while we’re here.”

Harry smiled at me, shifting closer and letting our shoulders touch before launching into stories from his childhood. He told me about a few birthdays he had and even one of his friend Alice’s where he blew out her candles instead of letting her do it because he couldn’t tell the difference. Harry’d felt so bad; he demanded to his mum that they had to go get her another present. He told me about going through his awkward, puberty days where he had cut his hair short and absolutely hated it, so he finally started letting his curls grow. He told me about the footie team, albeit reluctantly, and said he was even worse back then.

Once the conversation started dwindling, I felt like everything was perfect -- exactly how it used to be, except for one thing. “I miss your car,” I told Harry.

He burst out laughing, putting his mug down. “We could take this outside and sit in my car if you want or we could continue sitting here and I’ll turn on some music to set the same ambience of my car.”

“Second option,” I replied, pulling my feet up. “Don’t fancy going outside and your parents finding us passed out inside your car because we’ve done that a few times.”

“True,” Harry noted before moving over to rifle through the vinyls that Robin had placed beside his vinyl player. “His collection is extensive, so I’m going with whatever’s in here. Hoping it’s good.”

The opening notes to “You and Me” by Lifehouse started playing and Harry and I stared at each other as the romantic lyrics were crooned out with the soft acoustics. Why was the universe working against me like this? I didn’t need this.

“I didn’t know Robin listened to Lifehouse,” was the first thing Harry said.

I burst out laughing. Our heads were in completely different places -- Harry obviously was not thinking about how this was strangely exactly like a rom-com scene. Two exes, rekindling their fire over hot coffee, long conversations and now the added romantic music in the background. It was terrible.

“Robin’s a cool guy,” I said.

“Yeah, I suppose. I haven’t listened to Lifehouse in ages, but this was one of my favorites.”

“Mine, too.”

“It’s just one of those songs, you know?”

“What do you mean?” I asked curiously, noting his smug expression.

“One of those songs where you have take the hand of a pretty girl,” Harry said, offering his hand over and taking mine, “and dance.”

“Harry,” I cried in surprise, laughing as he pulled me to my feet suddenly and started swaying to the music. “You’re fucking insane sometimes. Oh my god.”

“I just wanna dance with you,” he whispered lowly, wrapping his other arm around my waist to hold me steady.

I couldn’t say no -- I wasn’t going to say no because it was Harry. I was always going to say yes to Harry. Especially when it felt this right; my stomach was full of butterflies, Harry’s arm felt warm and nice and I couldn’t think of anything better. I gripped onto his hand while placing the other on his shoulder, following his lead as we giggled and slow danced poorly to the music of an alternative band from 2005.

Towards the bridge of the song, Harry twirled me around, pressing my back against his front while his hands wrapped around my waist. “We’re quite good,” he said, sounding surprised as he nuzzled his head over my shoulder.

“Beginners luck,” I concluded.

Harry laughed, continuing to sway the two of us and I wondered what this all was. The two of us were still broken up despite the slip up last month, which neither of us had spoken about it since the morning after it happened. And now we were at his parent’s house, slow dancing after he drove me all the way to Manchester to ensure I was able to get to my interview on time. Like, what was even happening?

I felt like my mind and my body were just going with everything as it happened because even dealing with our new situation and taking every day one at a time, in the back of my head, I still wanted to be with Harry. I still felt the connection we’d developed when we were together and I was still, ultimately, in love with him. Whether Harry felt the same was hard to say because so far it’d been moments like this that made me wonder before he pushed me away again and did what he intended to originally -- to be apart from me while still maintaining that just friends label, even if it was everything but that.

This night was giving me hope -- hope that maybe Harry and I needed to do all this...let time and fate take us wherever it was headed to remember what brought us together in the first place, past the cheating and all the fighting. Maybe it would help us come back together again -- not now, but maybe later.



The following morning, Anne, Robin, Harry and I went to a diner for breakfast before we had to bid them goodbye. Both Harry and I were rather sleepy due to our late night shenanigans, but we played it off well, only yawning minimally and drinking lots and lots of coffee and tea. After breakfast, when we were hugging Anne and Robin, Harry looked a bit sad, giving his mum an extra long hug and kiss on the cheek before we settled into the car.  

“You’ll be okay,” I said, petting Harry’s cheek as he pouted exaggeratedly and waved goodbye to Anne from the window. He let out a soft chuckle when he saw her pull a funny face before starting up the car and pulling out of our spot.

We were driving for no less than five minutes when Harry turned to look at me with a mischievous smile on his lips. I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. “What?” I asked carefully.

“Do you have anywhere to be when we go back?”

“No. I’m free as a bird.”

Harry grinned at that. “Want to go to the beach?”

“The beach?” I exclaimed. “Where is there a beach?”

“A little up north. We don’t have to go, I mean, it’ll probably make our trip back to London a bit longer, but I don’t know. It’s a beautiful day out and I’ve had fun with you on this road trip and since we don’t have anywhere to be when we go back, I’m thinking why not?” Harry looked at me carefully, trying to assess my reaction. “Like, I said -- we don’t have to, but what do you say?”

I let out a soft sigh, thinking over the offer. The beach did sound fun and Harry looked so optimistic and eager that I couldn’t say no even if I tried. And he was right -- we were having fun on this trip and I wasn’t quite ready for it to end, either.

“Beach sounds amazing,” I told him, reveling in the way his grin grew wide. “Let’s crank up the music and go.”

“Aye aye, captain,” he said, laughing before turning up the volume, the speakers blasting “Shut Up and Dance” by Walk the Moon.



Wallasey Beach was near empty when we got there, but it might have had a lot to do with Harry parking beside the less crowded area. The two of us got out of the car, staring out into the deep blue, water and hearing nothing but the breeze and waves crashing into the shore. When I met Harry’s eyes over the top of the car, his mouth broke into a grin.

“Race you to the water,” Harry said before sprinting down the sand.

I let out a surprised squawk before quickly running to catch up with him while trying not to fall over, our laughter mingling and echoing into the air. We pulled off our shoes and threw them behind us, neither of us bothering to check where they went, only focused on getting to the water first. Given his head start, though, Harry made it about half a second before I did.

The two of us froze as soon as we were in the water together because it was so cold despite the warm weather. “It’s freezing,” I said, sounding stupidly amazed.

Harry, who was further into the water than I was with his shirt off, laughed while splashing me playfully. “It feels good, though, I promise.”

When Harry noticed me still hesitating, he walked over himself and dragged me in with him, causing me to shriek out loud. In retaliation, I pushed him underwater, watching as Harry submerged again, looking not the least bit angry. Instead, he was elated, grinning as he shook his head like baby Tarzan, and splashed me back. After that, it was war. Harry and I were running around in the water, splashing each other and laughing to our heart’s content.

We only stopped after our skin started to wrinkle and we’d both gotten thoroughly tired from all that running around. I stood by the shore, toeing along the sand while Harry sat a few feet away, rubbing the water off of his face and looking out into the water quietly. It was throwing me off how so much of this was like a segment out of a rom com. Right down to the impromptu beach trip and playing in the water. I couldn’t remember a time when my life felt as cliché as it did now, playing out scenes from a Taylor Swift song. My eyes lingered on Harry and when he caught my wide-eyed gaze, he got that look in his eye again, the one that essentially drove me mad.

The drive over to the beach was fun; we were both relaxed with the windows down while the stereo blasted all our favorite songs. I felt at complete ease, my hair blowing in the wind and Harry right there beside me -- it almost felt like home, somehow, because it reminded me of all those nights when we did this same thing. Long drives, good music and each other’s company.

It shouldn’t feel that easy, though. Were Harry and I finally settling into being friends or was this only making worse? I couldn’t quite tell, but that look in Harry’s eyes was confusing me and I was falling for it. While this felt impossible, I wondered if I just wasn’t trying hard enough. Maybe if I tried a little harder I could resist him, even when he looked at me so intently while driving through little streets and almost running red lights because of the long glances.  

I could try and push myself to resist all the signs he was sending me, but even then we weren’t being just friends. However, it was hard to be friends with someone you once wanted more than anything and I was tired of fighting it. I wanted to let it all go and just go along with whatever signals and hints Harry was sending my way. If Harry was thinking of getting back together then I would do it in a heartbeat.

Harry’s eyes were trained on me as I walked over to him. He reached his hand out, pulling me down to fit in the space between his legs. “Hi,” he whispered with a soft smile.

“Hi,” I whispered back even though it was just us.

And then we were kissing, lips pressing against each other slowly as though it was something we could still do -- something we still did. The smart thing to do would have been to pull away and say no because this was wrong, but absolutely nothing felt wrong about this. It felt right and I could only put it down to being young and reckless. The thing with that was that it was easy to let moments pass without doing what you really wanted to. I didn’t want to be that person -- I never was that person and maybe acting on impulse was stupid, but I’d rather live stupid if it meant getting to do this again.

The best part was that Harry kissed me back without a moment of hesitance, his arms coming around to hold me closer against his body. He was thorough and slow, giving his everything into it like we had all the time in the world. When our lips turned red, bitten raw and swollen, we slowly pulled away. Neither spoke as we stood up with our fingers tangled together and headed back to the car, opting for the backseat instead.



Harry stopped his car slowly in front of my flat, shifting the gear to park before I started to gather my things. My hair, which had gotten wet from the water, was curling up and drying into hard, thick strands. It felt gross. I was pretty sure there was sand everywhere on my body in uncomfortable places and I sort of wanted to rush up the stairs and jump in the shower.

Once I’d gotten everything, I climbed out, Harry following suit to help me get my bag from the back. When I reached over to take the bag from him, Harry shook his head. “I’ll walk you up,” he said, gesturing towards the door.

I nodded and led him inside, the two of us walking up the stairs in silence. When we got to my door, I was about to unlock it when Harry spoke up again.

“Don’t go to Manchester,” he said in a rush.

I froze, turning to face him, my face scrunched up in confusion. “What?” I asked.

“Don’t -- don’t go to Manchester,” he breathed out again, looking so conflicted and desperate all of a sudden. “Don’t go, please don’t go.”

I fish mouthed several times, not even sure what to say or think. What in the world? “I -- I -- Harry, what -- I haven’t even --.”

“I’m just -- I don’t know what I’d do if you left.” Harry paused for a moment, his grip on my bag hard and face flushed. “I don’t know if I could take it if you were so far away.”

“Where is this coming from?” I questioned him, my brows furrowed. “You drove me all the way there for the interview, you were -- you were excited for me.”

“I know I was -- I’ve just been realizing what this all means. You’re going to move -- you’re -- you can’t do that.”

“I don’t know if I will move, Harry. I haven’t even gotten a callback.”

“Of course you’ll get a callback,” Harry argued, his tone frustrated. “They probably loved you and you’ll get a callback and move. You’ll leave everything behind...this flat, London, our friends -- you’ll leave me behind.”

“That’s not fair,” I said to him, my voice small. I couldn’t figure out why, but Harry had me feeling guilty about a decision I still hadn’t made and I hated it. I felt blindsided and confused. “You’re being so unfair right now, Harry. You’ve been unfair this entire trip. You’re always so up and down and I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“What we’ve been doing -- you know exactly what I mean,” I said, my voice getting louder as I was getting more exasperated by the situation.

This was only the second time it happened, but I could see a pattern forming right off the bat. We’d meet once every few weeks, Harry would flirt and I’d turn into putty in his hands, we’d eventually end up having sex, and then he tried to tell me what to do, what to think and how to live my life by trying to interfere. First he did it at the party last month, taking me out for coffee just because he thought I was going to go home with Kyle Baker, and then this time, trying to tell me how to make my career decisions.

Harry could do all this shit, show me that he cares, only to remind me in the end that we weren’t in a relationship anymore, we were just friends. Earlier when we had hooked up in the back of Harry’s car, he was quick to pull off of me and jump back in the driver's seat without even talking with me about what had happened. As though I was just a random hookup and friends didn’t do shit like that. I wasn’t going to put up with that anymore -- it was humiliating and degrading. And now he was coming out of nowhere telling me not to go because he couldn’t be without me? This was why I hated mixed signals because then even I didn’t know how I felt.  

“I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly.

When his voice trailed and he couldn’t even finish the sentence, I’d hoped it was enough to make him realize that this was not good. I knew Harry wasn’t a bad guy. He cared about me very much and did so much for me this trip, but I wished he could figure out what it was that he wanted.

“It’s okay,” I said eventually. “Thanks for everything.”

“Of course,” Harry said, pausing for a moment before leaning forward and giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Goodbye.”

I nodded shakily, wondering when it was going to get any easier. I didn’t want Harry to stand there and kiss me goodbye, I wanted him to kiss me goodnight with the promise that he’d see me soon -- tomorrow in fact -- and that we’d be okay. That me and him could make it.

That didn’t happen, though.

Harry put down my bag by the doorstep before seeing himself out, leaving me in a empty hallway with too many thoughts and a gut wrenching pain in my chest.