The Hired Girlfriend (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty Four

• Chapter Twenty Four • 

Something that I've come to understand is that when you love someone you learn to love every piece of them, including the ones that tend to frustrate. You learn to forgive each and every time because the day you don't is one you cannot stand to imagine. It is precisely the unique idiosyncrasies about him that I love. Like the way he runs his fingers through his hair as he makes a hard decision and the way he trace the outline of his lips with his tongue whenever he's nervous. He has become the only source of warmth I need, the only ounce of strength I need to carry on.

The world around me couldn't possibly be the same if he hadn't lived. And even if we weren't together, I would just be comforted with the notion that someone as wonderful, as selfless, as simply lovely as he is, exists.

He took me to our new apartment last Thursday. The steps from the pavement were lined with antique pot plants, the street rain stained and relatively quiet. Harry held his hand over my eyes, blocking my vision and guided me into the apartment. I heard my boots clicking against the floor boarded room. I listened as Harry breathed, "three, two, one," and removed his hand, revealing the spectacular architecture. 

The room we were in was a large open space. Beside us was acquainted, thin table. I could visualize coming home after a late lecture, tossing my keys on the table after hanging up my handbag and coat on the hat rack on the opposite side of the room. "Wait until you see the best bit," he said in an excited voice as he clasped my hand and guided me through to the lounge room. 

The living room was completely furnished with a comfy swede sofa and a glass coffee table. I imagined filling the shelves beside the television with the classics, novels like Tom Sawyer, Pride and Prejudice, and The Catcher and the Rye. I could see myself curling up on the couch beside Harry as we watched Love Actually and became completely immersed in each other. For each night we would forget our studies, our jobs and just enjoy our time together which we would be so fortunate to have. 

Harry grinned at me as he walked me up the stairs. He pointed out the lovely fireplace as he led me up to the main attraction. "The master bedroom," he announced as he turned the gold knob, revealing the room. I almost swooned at the sight of the silk lined mattress. The large window opposing the king sized bed had the beautiful street view of the large weeping willow tree. My heart raced knowing I would have that sight every morning.

I walked over slowly towards the bed and ran my fingers over the smooth fabric. "Noel," Harry said softly, "What do you think?" he asked. I smiled and told him how it was more than anything I could imagine. I wasn't lying. This place, this would become our home and it was perfect. Only a dark thought resided with me that I would be spending most of my nights here alone. And this place felt only temporary and fragile like us. I hoped that once we started moving in that it would feel more like a home.

I lined the couch with the last pillow and feel hopelessly on it. My school year was soon to begin and Harry was off on tour. I pondered whether it was always going to be like this. I knew it was going to be hard but I was hoping that it wouldn't always be this hard. The first night we officially moved in, we layed in the same bed, my head on his chest. I drew small shapes on his bare skin as he sung softly to me. I never thought I could love him more than I did in that moment. With his lips only centimeters from mine, his hot peppermint breath fanning my flushed face. He whispered, "I could stay like this forever." I didn't know what he meant when he said that. Whether I was apart of that forever. But the longer I thought in the silence, the more I realised it was too late to ask.

I didn't know how much longer after that when I stayed just staring into his eyes. "Harry, can you kiss me now?" I asked softly. I could feel him chuckle as he helped himself up to face me. Drawing his lips closer, I closed my eyes. A feeling of warmth resonated in the pit of my stomach the moment his lips touched mine. His hands were safely on my waist, but soon he gripped me closer.

I kissed him as though I were telling him the secrets of the world. I had an impressionable desire. I wanted him. My hands found their way through his hair, clutching each strand, enjoying the pleasurable sensation I experience with every kiss. He shyed off soon after. As he held my hands, he told me he wanted to take it slow. He didn't want to ruin what we had. After, he kissed my forhead and fell asleep.

He left a bottle of his cologne on the bedside table and slept in the bed three times more, allowing his intoxicating smell to remain on his side. He left two days ago. The apartment had three rooms. Our bedroom, a guest bedroom and I soon realised that the third was a study room for me, equip with a wooden desk and an apple computer. On the table was a small cactus plant and a lava lamp because I once told him that when I was younger all I ever wanted was a purple and red lava lamp. Just above was a frame poster that read: Fill your pretty little mind with ambitious words and study your pretty little arse off.

He texted me frequently and I did my best to write back to him. I was constantly torn between quitting university and just following Harry. My infatuation with always seeing him ceased when I felt the pressure of the work load. As I went to university each morning, walking past the large gates and tall casting trees I realised in my heart how much I did love it. I was studying English literature and history as spent most of my time at the coffee bar with my laptop, much like this morning. 

I ran my slim finger around the brim of the mug, tracing it circumference. I indulged in the sweet, rich smell of coffee as I read A tale of two cities. In my peripheral vision I noticed someone pulling out a chair at my small table and they took a seat. "Charles Dickens, fine choice." A low voice cooed. I peered over my book to find a young man with soft chestnut brown hair smiling boyishly at me. His fingers peeled away from the warmth of his cup and he offered me his hand, "I'm Patrick Nottingham." I smiled and shook his hand. "Noel Springs. You are in my lectures for English, correct? Pardon me if I'm wrong." I recognized his perfectly structured jawline and sharpened stud in his nose. He was hard to miss. 

His lips widened as he nodded his head. "I am miss Springs. Do tell me, who was it that made you fall in love with literature?" His question startled me. It wasn't often that I had the pleasure of answering that question. "Where to begin?" I laughed. "Strangely enough it was poets like Robert Frost and Edgar Allen Poe who first captured for me the beauty of writing." His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? So I will have to turn mad in order for you to love me." I chuckled at his light wit. "Indeed, you must."

Placing a mark in the novel, I closed the book and turned my eyes to Patrick. "And for you? Which author made you fall in love with literature?" I asked. He leaned back in his seat and his crisp blue eyes wandered. "Well that's easy. Jane Austin." I slammed my hand down on the table and errupted in laughter. He grinned at me, pressing his forearms into the wooden table, he leaned in. "No I must say it was F. Scott Fitzgerald." He paused before reciting, "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

"I am very impressed."

"Oh really? Impressed enough for me to buy you a drink, say this Saturday night?" 

I had to give the boy credit. He was awfully smooth. I found myself fighting the urge to inform him about Harry. Normally, I would decline the offer but as I spoke to him, the knowing pain of missing Harry seemed to dull. I accepted his offer. He knocked on the table with a childish grin on his face. "Great!" He exclaimed in a falsetto voice. He composed himself at once and in a low voice said, "Great. I'll see you then." He took up from the seat and waved politely before he left.

As I returned to my book, I found it impossible to concentrate. I read lines over and over again but hadn't managed to understand the story. All I could see was Patrick's electric blue eyes. I could hear the effortless charm that rippled off his tongue. I found myself wanting to tell Harry but I suppressed it knowing that he would only grow concerned. I didn't know what it was but I was impatiently excited for Saturday night. Hopefully I will meet some new people. That's what Harry keeps telling me, "Don't stay at home Noel, go out and party! Have fun. You deserve it." He would say.

Now that I was going to, I wondered whether it was the right thing.

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I apologise for the short chapter and long wait. I thought it was better to end it there. It has taken me so long because I'm trying to decide where I want to go with this story so keep with me. I'm sorry xx

Keep in mind this isn't edited.

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