Three Rules // A Harry Styles Au

Part 1 - It's Just Sex

The sound of a heavy wave crashing against the cliff side and then curling against the shore brings a twitch to your lips. You've missed that sound - it's familiar; comforting. You've missed it here - your small haven that is Lusty Glaze beach in Newquay. You only live a ten minute walk up the road but it's closed half the year given the steep steps you have to scale to get to it. It's not safe in the winter. Hell, sometimes it's not really safe in the summer, but the beach is relatively small compared to most in the area, so it's worth it.

You rest your chin on the top of the handle of your brush as you watch a couple of surfers making the most of the early waves. It's windy today so it's rough enough, but it's still a bit chilly for your liking. You can't wait for the weather to warm up.

There aren't many people on the beach given the weather, just a few odd singles every now and then walking their dogs now that they can. Certainly not anyone pitched up a beach tent or windblock just yet.

It's only early April, but come mid May, and the always warm bank holiday weekend, it's sure to be a hive here - full to the brim with tourists and locals alike. There'll be training classes - abseiling, surfing, windsurfing, sailing. Beach yoga is available as long as it's not too horrendous weather-wise (that's just yoga on the sand), as well as beach spinning classes. That sounds ridiculous but the club house rents out the decking to an instructor who brings ten regular bikes once a week and sets them up overlooking the shore on these contraptions that allow the bike wheels to spin without going anywhere.

You're currently sweeping said decking to clear the sand that the winter weather has sprinkled it with. Or, that's what you're supposed to be doing. You keep getting distracted by the view.

All along the back cliffs are beach huts that sell various different types of requirements - deck chairs, umbrellas, inflatables, swing ball hire, boat hire. You work in the biggest - the one with the pointlessly posh cafe/bar. You like it, though. It pays well since the beach is privately owned, and the staff all do the same as you - work the six months and then go elsewhere for the rest of the year. Of course there's the odd change come every new season, but you're a welcoming bunch. Along with the seasonal lifeguards, your staff nights are often quite a good laugh.

"Oi!"

You spin around the top of your brush handle to see who wants your attention, a curious expression on your face when you find Sarah in the doorway. "What?"

"Fancy an ice cream?" She holds a dark chocolate and a milk chocolate Magnum up in each hand.

You shake your head. "No, thank you. Still a bit too cold for that, I think."

"Suit yourself, picky bitch." She shrugs, and tears the packet with her teeth.

"I'll have it."

You and Sarah both look to the small set of stairs that lead from the decking down to the sand, and find an incredibly familiar face standing at the foot.

"Harry!" You squeak happily, dropping the brush without a second thought to skip down the stairs to him.

He looks good. He looks bigger - like he disappeared for the winter season and spent every single second in a gym. His shoulders are broader, his upper arms seem tighter against the fabric of his favourite t-shirt, and his legs look like they could crush walnuts. You don't think on that idea too long. His curls are growing out again, curling just around his ears and sticking out at every angle. You know that come the hotter weather he'll grip it back with a little claw grip or a bandana. And for the first time, his stubble doesn't look patchy and weedy - it looks attractive.

"Hey, bestie!" He greets with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you do his middle. "Miss me?"

"Always!" You pull back with a grin, but he keeps his hands on your shoulders. "You're a week early, why didn't you say something?"