DEVOTION

chapter fifteen -

A/N: This chapter took me sooooo long. I wanted to do a double update with a little extra surprise buuut you'll get chapter sixteen when it's ready.

I'm not gonna give you any warnings for this. Take it how you will.

For Dariana, happy late 22nd birthday (SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY RIGHT NOW).

EDEN'S POV.

I always pin this as the night that ruined every idea I had of being in an actual, true human relationship. The night that the author curses at because it's just not enough for a reader to physically drop their jaw and say "these two characters" with whatever idea they have of the connection between the two protagonists. The night that maybe tied into a form of foreshadowing but it was just so damn subtle that I had no idea what had happened to me or to him or to the connection we had. 

There are so many different instances I tie to what I know now that didn't stick out in the moment. Maybe that's because everything stuck out and it was just all so special that I never knew which thing or glance or word or feeling to put my finger on and think "this meant something". This night was just too fucking ordinary to be have the affect it did- that's what I say, and yet it's burned it's way into my brain.

ONE WEEK EARLIER.

"Pick a song." Harry gave me his phone, plugged into the car stereo as we pulled out onto the road from the house. It was already dark out, nine-thirty, and I'd been waiting for this since lunch when he asked me about waiting on dinner to go out with him.

He said "let me steal you tonight" and I swear I felt my heart melt in my chest... As if he was saying I was something he wanted, or something that was worth his time. I always overread those things, but I think it was intentional, the way he treated me; even if he didn't know what his intentions were, he liked making me shy. Mitch could've said the same thing and it would have been different, so it should have been just the same with Harry but it just wasn't. I swear I must've bonked my head that night.

Taking his phone, I scrolled through the music he already had saved. "Where are we going?" I asked him, looking out on the road that didn't tell or show me much. It was always backroads surrounded by trees and close to cliffs. It made the house harder to access.

"I'm in the mood for pancakes... How does that sound?" He asked, glancing over at me and I nodded, sitting back in the seat. "Pancakes at nine-thirty?" I asked confused and he smiled at the road, one hand on the wheel, the other on the clutch. "More like ten."

Holding my hands in my lap, I felt different around him that night. It didn't make sense then... I was hesitant just to speak, not to feel. Up until then, I was blocking out the way I felt but there were nights where I was less concerned with how I felt and more concerned with the way I went about it.

The quiet, warm nights with him were some of the most terrifying.

"Why would you say so?"

Because those were the things that hurt, in the end... That hurt now. We spent so much time dancing around the truth.

"Sounds like a plan, Styles." I glanced over at him one more time before settling my eyes on the yellow lines painted on the gravel and decided to keep them there for the time being.

I slept in late that morning, and by the time I was up, he was busy with phone calls, helping Jeff out. I came downstairs just to sit at the island for a few minutes to read. For a romance novel, Call Me By Your Name is fairly dirty. But it's written so beautifully and bluntly that I don't mind it as much. I've never really taken those things in writing as weird or strange. It's a part of life and growing up.