One More Time [A Larry Stylinson FanFic]

Chapter 13: Escape Artists

Traffic wasn't nearly as busy as Marley expected it to be, and the ride was fun, once her nerves had calmed down and she felt like she was just sitting in a stairwell with her friend instead of driving him home. But then Marley zipped through Hartford and started seeing signs on the Pike that they were getting close to home. Her palms were getting sweaty and she could feel the fidgeting building from somewhere down near maybe her toes. Harry had found Marley's playlists in iTunes and was currently singing along to You Can Call Me Al.

"He sees angels in the architecture..." Marley joined in. Then she commented, "You know, that's one of my favorite lines in all of music."

Harry was always delighted when he found out fun little things about her like that. "Really?!" He smiled as he jammed along to the end of the song.

Marley's playlist morphed into Shiny Happy People. Her Vacationland mix was one of her favorites.

She must have been glancing at Harry too often – anxiety and fidgets, remember? – because Harry swallowed a laugh and asked, "What?"

Marley looked back at the road like a kid pretending they weren't just caught out. "What what?" Even she could hear that her voice was higher than normal.

Harry let his laughter show through in his words. "Don't give me that 'What what?' What's got you all squirrelly?" Harry was also dancing The Swim to Love Shack, so Marley was torn between laughing and fidgeting.

She laughed. Harry smiled because his trick worked, so he busted out some more smooth moves.

Marley was still smiling, but she was a tiny bit more relaxed when she spoke. She wouldn't take her eyes off the road, though. "Okay, I know you're just you, and I don't want you to think that I'm messing with our thing that we have," Marley said, and she did reach out and put her arm on Harry's forearm that was dancing in space. He looked at her as much as he thought she could handle, glancing away and dancing when he thought Marley needed an eye-contact break to get this out.

"We're almost home, and you're just you, but at the same time, like in some crazy parallel universe, I'm also taking Harry Styles to my house! My House!! My house on a regular street, my house that I can't remember how I left it, and I'm not sure what the state of the kitchen is, if there are dishes in the sink!"

Harry pulled a blank face, tried to look like he was giving this some serious thought, and then turned right back to Marley, leaning in the littlest bit, and then grotto-whispered, "My mum would have you know that I am excellent at hand-washing dishes."

Marley busted up. "The next high fashion cover! One of my aprons, with you leaned over my sudsy kitchen sink."

Harry quickly tacked on, "Yes! My pearls, your apron, and maybe some heels. The perfect 1950s-meets-modern times mash-up!"

"Yes!" Marley yelled, because perfection!

"In a suit? How much do we mess with gender lines in this photo shoot?" Harry was seriously contemplating this now. "You know we're actually doing this, right?" Harry turned to her, all excitement.

"Honey, you can own my sink all weekend if you want!" Marley laughed, tickled at the idea of her house being the backdrop for a Harry Styles-anything. "Speaking of sinks, how do you do with dogs?" Marley pivoted.

If it was possible, Harry's face lit up even more, mouth agape with excitement. "YOU HAVE A DOG??!" He looked like she was gifting him her dog. Marley laughed again and said yes, she had a three-year-old grey lab named Abbey. Her friend Jenna had been dog-sitting, and had brought Abbey back this morning. Jenna thought Marley was coming back for the weekend to check on her mum and catch up on work. Which was half true, she supposed.