ೃ⁀➷ In the year 1994,
Maya Bennet travels to New York to attend a famous music festival, Woodstock. After stumbling into the wrong tent when searching for her lost boyfriend, she has an odd interaction with a handsome mysterious stranger. A year l...
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"Goodbye Harry Styles."
I turn around with a smile and walk into the house as Harry closes the door shut behind me, looking over at Dean who's on the couch across from Gage who's sitting on the chair.
"Hi, sorry." I mumble when they both look over at me with furrowed brows as I come stumbling through the door with a bag over my shoulder and a box in my hands. "I got off early. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll just go up to my room."
Now's not really the best time to tell him I was fired. People are literally dying.
"You can join us." Gage speaks up, looking over at Dean who nods his head and smiles. "Maybe you can help give me some more information on the details that your father finds a little blurry and has a hard time remembering."
I know this is terrible to say, but this is the last thing I want to deal with right now. Stephanie just made me feel like shit about myself for doing absolutely nothing and now I have to try and remember things I've forced myself to forget? God, I really wish Dean wasn't a drunk.
My lips part as I hesitate, glancing behind me as I watch Harry's car start up with the loud sound of his engine roaring—I should've just stayed in the damn car.
I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me
Biting down on my lip to hide the smile on my face as a cloud of smoke slips from his window, I turn back around and face Gage who's waiting for a response. "Sure." I say, knowing I don't have much of a choice.
"How'd you get home, kid?" Dean sits further up on the couch, his hands folded on his lap as he stares at me with his forehead wrinkled.
"I called Harry because I thought you were at work." I explain as I set my things down on the staircase, walking over into the living room as his eyes follow mine. "Zayn was with him. I told them not to come in since you guys were talking, they weren't ignoring you or anything."
That and the fact Harry hates cops so much he has a hard time pretending he likes being around them. I asked him about it again on the way home from the drive-in, but he shut down and called them every cruel name in the book.
That being said, letting him come inside would be like letting a lion into a gazelle's cage and the last thing I want is to be in the middle.
It was painful enough watching them interact the other day—he can be such an ass.
He nods as a sigh leaves his lips. "Good, that's good. I just don't want you walking home anymore." He adds on while Gage rocks his head toward his shoulder. "They're good boys. Harry's old man and I go back a few years. Nineteen sixty-nine."
