Begin Again [Harry Styles Fanfic]

Under The Mistletoe

I yawned tiredly but forced myself to get out of bed. Harry was still snoring lightly on the bed looking like the adorable cupcake that he was. I was on a very important mission. And that very important mission was to somehow sneak all of my Christmas presents under the tree without anyone waking up and catching me. You might be wondering why in the hell I would go through all this trouble when I could easily just put it under the tree without the dramatics. Well...all I can really say to that is shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down somewhere, no one asked for your opinion.

I quickly checked the time on my phone and nodded to myself. 4:30 am. That gave me two or three hours before all of Harry's little cousins woke and gathered around the Christmas tree ceremoniously. I would never understand children's fascination with waking up early and just sitting there trying to guess what presents they got. Like, you couldn't open one because then everyone would know what you'd been up. So you just sat there shaking them and trying to guess what kind of gift it was from the sound it made.

The steps groaned loudly under my footsteps and I glared down at them, flicking them off a bit. Those steps hadn't made any noise all week, why the fuck would they start now? I continued to creep around downstairs, putting certain gifts in certain stockings.

I was halfway under the giant Christmas tree when I felt someone watching me. I wasn't usually too keen on that kind of thing so this made me a bit nervous and paranoid. I crawled from underneath it and tried to peer into the darkness, hoping beyond hope that I might see someone and that I wasn't going crazy. Or that there wasn't a ghost about to drag me out of the house. I didn't see anyone do I went back to work.

There was the sound of footsteps and I quickly crawled out from under the tree and dusted myself off, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. After a few seconds I realized that I couldn't hear anything. Like, there was no more sound. Or any motion at all. There was a ghost in the Styles' household that wanted me gone and I was seriously debating whether or not to take its advice.

I shrugged of my weird vibes and finished stuffing the stockings. At least in this case, I could leave something for Harry and his family to remember me by before I decided that I was going to pack my shit up and running away screaming from the haunted house.

That's when I felt the breath on the back of my neck. I froze in place and held my own breath, doing a quick prayer and repenting for every thing that I had every done in my whole entire life. Like last night when I had told Gemma that their aunt didn't need anymore cookies because she was fat. I meant it. But I took it back because I'm pretty sure the big guy upstairs doesn't take shit like that from anybody.

"Why aren't you in bed, babe?" The creepy ghost bitch asked. "I can't sleep without you." Then it occurred to me that it was not, in fact, a creepy ghost bitch. Just a very droosy Harry. 

"Sorry," I mumbled as I turned to face him. I could barely see his face but the Christmas tree lights allowed me to see the pout on his lips. "I had to do my little Santa thing." 

He yawned and nodded before turning on a lamp by the couch. "I've always wanted to be one of the first to open their presents."

I rolled my eyes and sat down next to him, keeping his present hidden behind my back. "Technically I don't think you're the first. I think the Aussies might have you beat."

He laughed lightly and handed me a gift bag. "You told me not to go big. So I didn't. Merry Christmas."

I watched him with a doubtful face as I quickly pulled out all the tissue paper. You can't trust Curly, alright? You just can't. For our one month anniversary he filled the entire coffee shop with plastic red roses (I'm allergic to every flower ever) and then made me dress up like a princess and ride around in a carriage. And then we went to see Breaking Dawn Part Two. With me still in a fluffy dress. Don't. Trust. Curly. Bitches.