Matrimony Homies

30: Can I Stay? (Harry)

"Geez, H. It's nearly midnight," Loren yawns after directing me into the parking lot of her flat. "The neighbours will have their eyes pressed to the windows if we're not quiet."

"I'm guessing that you usually come in much later than midnight? Like four in the morning? Drunk and staggering?" I tease, and Loren rewards me with a punch on my left arm. "Hey! Was that necessary?"

"Shhh," she grumbles. "I don't want to be the talk of our block of flats. It took forever for me to win over Minerva and Dave in the flat next door."

"Okay," I whisper. "Let's not piss off Dave and Minerva."

"Minerva and Dave," she responds, and I've no idea of the difference, but we're already exiting the car so I just nod my head.

After removing our luggage, I cautiously close the boot, careful to listen for it to click since I can't slam it down. I'm hopeful that my caution earns me brownie points as I've done little all day but think about kissing her earlier on the hike. The wedding was tremendous fun, but the best part was our slow dance with her head pressed against my chest.

Fuck. I want to taste more of her. Our kiss at the falls had been phenomenal, but Loren gave me no indication that she enjoyed it as deeply as I, so I vow to keep my mouth shut about kissing her again. If only she thought of me as more than her best friend's little brother.

"I know where the floor doesn't creak," she softly speaks as we enter the block of flats, "so follow me," and I make sure I step exactly where she does all the way up the stairs to the third floor. Stopping at a singular door, Loren removes her keys, gingerly lining up the key with the lock at the exact moment her phone blares loudly, causing her to drop the keys as she startles. While she's fumbling for her purse to silence the ringtone, I pick up the key and fit it into the lock, twisting it quickly and pushing the door open.

The smell that wafts out is pure Loren: fresh, citrusy, and cosy. Fuck.

She answers the call, holding the phone to her ear as she whispers. "Hello?" Silence before she exhales, "Oh, shit, Anne. I'm so sorry! We're okay, I promise. You're never going to believe what happened to us..." As she dives into explaining to Mum why we hadn't travelled on to Holmes Chapel, Loren drags her suitcase inside, gesturing towards a door that I assume is where she expects me to sleep tonight.

Twisting the knob, I'm unsurprised to find what is clearly a guest room. What does surprise me, though, is the amount of my merch scattered around the room. There are tour posters on the walls, Pleasing towels on the chair, and even a bookshelf filled with my albums and, upon closer inspection, magazines with me on the cover.

My emotions knock me over, and I sink onto the bed as my knees give out underneath me. Holy fuck. She's kept up with my career over time. The One Direction items have been relegated to the bottom shelf, including framed photos of us as the three Musketeers backstage at an early concert. There are perfume bottles from Our Moment, Between Us, You & I, and That Moment – all next to a stack of One Direction t-shirts.

From the other room, I hear her finishing up her conversation with Mum. "I'll catch rides to work this week and come on the train to get my car next weekend if that's okay." She pauses, "No, no. It's all okay. I'll see you next weekend." There's a moment of quiet when I think she's disconnected, but then I hear a soft "Love you too, Anne," and I'm reminded once more that my mum is Loren's surrogate.

When she appears in the doorway, having kicked off her shoes somewhere, she leans against the doorjamb, her eyes not making contact with mine but rather flitting about the room.

"Damn. I forgot what this room looks like. Sorry, Dork."

"For what?"

"For not shoving all of this stuff in a closet somewhere before you got here."