The first rays of morning sunlight dance across my skin, warming my face and momentarily pushing all concerns from my mind. It feels like a brand-new day, filled with promise, and void of yesterday's complications. For that fleeting moment, everything feels light and simple.
I stretch out, allowing the golden glow to bathe me, relishing in the peace it brings. But as consciousness fully takes over, the fragments of last night's conversation start to intrude upon my tranquillity. The weight of each word, each revelation, rushes back. Harry's eyes, the intensity of his gaze, the things he said. Suddenly, the room feels a bit colder despite the morning sun.
After our conversation, we re-joined the group, and for the rest of the night, we remained silent, as if our words had formed an invisible barrier between us. The uncertainty of our situation looms large, like a heavy cloud-threatening rain. I'm lost in a fog of confusion, unsure of where we stand or what comes next.
I remember his parting words: to carry on as if nothing had changed, to stick to the script laid out by our management. It's a request that should raise alarm bells in my head. I know I shouldn't trust him, not entirely. After all, he's complicit in this web of deception.
But then, I can't forget the look in his eyes, the genuine turmoil that seemed to churn within him. It's a maddening contradiction. My heart urges me to trust the sincerity I saw, while my head screams at me not to be a fool.
Pulling the sheets back, I reluctantly swing my legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor sending a shiver up my spine. My reflection in the mirror is a tired version of myself, eyes weighed down by sleep and contemplation.
I have a lunch meeting with Paul today. The thought of facing him turns my stomach. How do you sit across from someone who's been orchestrating your life without your knowledge or consent? How do you trust any word that comes out of his mouth?
With a sigh, I head to the shower, hoping the warm water might wash away some of the doubts and fears. As I turn turn the shower on and take my clothes of I go to step into the water until someone begins knocking on the door.
Startled, I wrap a towel quickly around myself, feeling vulnerable and caught off-guard. "Who is it?" I call out, trying to keep my voice steady.
"It's me," a familiar voice replies, "Harry."
My heart skips a beat. Of all the moments for him to come knocking, why now? The timing couldn't be worse. Still, I find myself moving toward the door.
Taking a deep breath, I unlock the door and pull it open "Sorry, you just caught me at an... inconvenient time," I murmur, clutching onto the towel.
Harry's cheeks flush slightly, and he keeps his gaze averted. "I'm sorry, I should've called ahead."
The silence between us is thick, and the atmosphere is suddenly charged with tension. I point towards a chair in the room. "Sit. I'll just... throw something on."
He nods and takes a seat, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, while I quickly disappear into the adjacent room to slip into a robe. "I mean, it's not like I haven't seen it all before." He calls out from the other room, teasingly.
I roll my eyes, but a reluctant smile tug at the corner of my lips. "Keep your comments to yourself, Styles," I shoot back, voice muffled from the other room.
I return, now draped in a robe, and cross my arms, trying to appear more annoyed than I actually feel. "So, what brings you here so early?"
His expression shifts, becoming slightly more serious. "Needed to talk. After last night..."
I cut him off, my voice edged with frustration, "After you told me you helped bind me to Shawn Mendes to avoid your feelings for me?" I lean against the door frame, crossing my arms. "You're here wanting to dig the hole even deeper?"
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All My Love || Harry Styles
FanfictionI always thought my 'I made it' moment would be on stage in front of thousands of adoring fans, however, sitting at this dinner table across from Harry Styles this is definitely my 'I made it' moment Lucy Butler was an average 24 year old with dre...