21 Murders | Harry Styles AU (discontinued)

XXXIV. Misconstrued

misconstrued(verb): interpret (something, especially a person's words or actions) wrongly

Noelle's POV

"Thank you,'' I mutter as Harry hands me a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Settling deep in his warm comforter, he grabs the TV remote and molds into my side with his own beverage.

My hair is still wet from the warm shower I took when we got back from the cemetery, but strangely enough, I can't find one thing to complain about at the moment.

This is better than I've felt in days, and having everything off my chest has presented me with this weightless feeling on my back. Whether it be fate having its way with us or just how things played out, I am grateful Harry took me to meet his mother today.

"What do you think happens now?" I ask him while resting my head on his chest. His shirtless frame is bare and still strikingly beautiful even with the large gashes that have healed some-what regularly.

I love how he feels comfortable enough around me not to hide what happened to him years ago. My mind pesters me to continue asking questions about that exact night it happened, but for right now, I think we've both been through enough heartache.

"Now we get back to the main objective and find this son of a bitch,'' Harry answers, stopping midway for a yawn. My eyes are tired and heavy, as well.

"I meant between us. Is anything different?" Asking seems childish; of course things are shifting, but that is because how much deeper we can connect to each other. Now with the knowledge we've acquired through the other, we're inseperable.

"I know I love you, and nothing will change that anytime soon. I just hope you are as persistent as you've been so far,'' Harry chuckles, making me smile on his tan skin.

"You know, we hadn't fought like that since the bar incident. That night really was hard for me. I was so confused because I knew I loved you, but half of me was trying to convince the other half that it was wrong or delusional to." I admit.

"And all I remember is seeing red. One second you were dancing with Arthur,'' he grimaces and I peck his chest. ''And then the next minute he was under me with a broken nose."

"You never apologized to him for that, did you?" I meekly question and already know the answer. Harry is the most kind man that I've ever met, but he is known to hold a grudge.

"No, and I don't plan to. He's a liar and the reason we are in this mess to begin with." My eyebrows scrunch at his words as I press my palm to the mattress and look at him in confusion.

"What do you mean he's the reason?"

"While you were in the hospital, Royce and I figured out that Jeffery drugged you with some type of illegal medicine that hasn't been sold legally in years. That morning he spoke with Fred Muller over the phone and Arthur also admitted her heard my father talking about this event a few days before we left for fucking Albany."

"Wait, what?" I gape, shocked at this new knowledge.

Yes, I had been unsure of all this, but I didn't think it would connect back to Des or even Fred. Flashes go about my mind as I remember Fred handing me his number before the end of the ball.

"This is just my number, I want you to call me after you visit the museum and tell me about how you enjoyed it." Fred grimly speaks, lips wet and being brought in and out of his mouth. "Harry isn't coming, right?"

"I'm a writer and gave you this tour so that I could hear your views on the spectacle. Don't let me down."

"Shit,'' I cuss aloud, running a hand through my wet hair.