Harry Styles' P.A

How we met

I waited in line for the second time that day, albeit a much shorter line. Backstage passes were rare. And expensive. It took a while before Harry showed up, looking like he had freshened up a bit, but still wearing his stage outfit. What on earth was I even suposed to do? Why did he give me that pass? What was I suposed to say?
I was fidgeting with my bracelets. Then I sturted tugging at my watermelon earrings as I watched him take pictures with the fans that were in line in front of me. He had short conversations with every single one of them, signed whatever they wanted ( even an occasional left boob) and hugged the ones who were brave enough to hug him. And after he moved on to the next fan, they were escorted out by security one by one. And then Harry skipped me to the one behind me in line, after giving me a quick smile and wink.

Huh? Why did he give me a backstage pass only to skip me? I expected the big guy in the black suit that was waiting in the corner to escort me out, but he didn't. What was going ON?

Harry kept having small meetings with every single fan in line, untill I was the last one left in the corridor. He walked up to me and casually reached out with his hand and I expected that he was trying to greet me with a handshake. But when I reached out my hand as well, making it clear I expect a handshake, he shook his head with a kind smile and grabbed my other hand. I was too flabbergasted to ask what was happening, when he started to pull me with him. Only to stop dead in his tracks and turn to me.

"Sorry, quick question first. Do you have someone waiting for you, or a train to catch or something like that?"

I shook my head.

"No, I'm staying at a hotel for the night."

He nodded approvingly and started walking again, into the more inner structure of the building, pulling me along by my hand. Another securityguard opened the door for us and Harry led me into a lounge with multiple large sofas, bottles of soda on the coffeetable, and clean glasses next to that. There were also some snacks on the table. And the teddybear I threw at him. Another securityguard was in the corner, proffesionaly ignoring us aside from occasional glances to check up on Harry.

Harry suddenly spun around, facing me and staring into my eyes so intensely I grew uncomfortable. First of all, this was THE Harry Styles. And second of all, that stare in those eyes could make any person drop to their knees and submit to his wishes.

"How are you feeling?"

What? He dragged me into the lounge to ask how I was feeling? I shook my head slightly. That made no sense. Why would he care that much?

"That letter. Was that all true?"

He sounded a bit hessitant. That DID make sense. People told sobstories all the time to get attention or free stuff. I bet they did that with Harry too, maybe to get free tickets or something.

"I'm not a sobstory", I slurred emotionaly, my words coming out a little wrong, but he seemed to get it. He gently pushed me down in one of the sofas and sat down on the one next to mine.

"Do you have pictures?"

I was a bit confused. Was he asking for pictures of the accident? I mean, they existed, but I really did not want to see them. Harry's eyes popped wide open when he realised his unfortunate choice of words. He quickly shook his head.

"No, no, love, of your family. Your husband and your kids."

I sighed in relief. Yea, ofcourse I had those. Without saying anything I took out my wallet from my pocket and took the pictures out of it. Gently putting them on the table and sliding them his way. He carefully picked them up and looked at every picture with a studying look.

"What are their names?"

I pointed to my husbands picture. "That's Kyle, my husband."
I tapped the picture of my little boy. "Matthew", I sighed as my emotions started catching up to me.
"And my babygirl, Evelynn." I halfly whimpered.

"And yours?"

Despite the emotional load this meeting suddenly had, I couldn't help but chuckle softly through my tears. How stupid. I didn't even introduce myself.

"Lilly."

"Well, Lilly. I just wanted to say again how terribly sorry I am that you had to go through this. You wrote that you tried to stop living. What did you mean?"

And so I sat there, as Harry Styles was being a perfectly normal human being, listening as I told him how I had stopped eating and drinking. How I landed in the hospital several times because of that. How my mother had died from being sick with worry for me. And there I stopped as I dug my nails into the palms of my hands. The realisation hit me harder than ever before. It was my fault she was dead.

A soft, big hand covered both of mine and I looked up at Harry, for a moment forgetting that this was an actual popstar I was talking to.

"It wasn't your fault."

Huh???? I hadn't said that out loud.

"How d'you....?"

He softly squeezed my hands.

"You're hurting yourself. You're angry. And probably not at your mom. So I figured you're angry at yourself. You blame yourself for her death. But it wasn't your fault, Lilly. You were hurt, grieving. Ofcourse she was worried, that's what moms are for. But it wasn't your fault that she passed away. None of it was your fault."

I hung my head as I started crying, because nobody knew I blamed myself  for my mother's death. Nobody told me it wasn't my fault. And Harry Styles was  definitely the last person I expected to hear this from. I never expected him to talk to me at all. But here he was, after a long tiring show, sacrificing his rest and sleep to make sure this wreck on his couch was ok.

My crying turned into loud sobbiong and as I pulled my hands from his so I could cover my face, I felt the seat next to me sink as Harry sat down next to me and suddenly wrapped both his arms around me. Instinctively I turned my head and cried into his shoulder.

"Shhhh shhh shh. It's ok Lilly. It will be allright someday. Let it out love. Have a good cry, yeah?"

After a few minutes my tears dried up and I pushed myself away from Harry, feeling emberassed. He quickly poored a glass of water and handed it to me and I gladly drank the whole glass.

"There, that's better. C'mere."

He gently wiped my face with his fingers and then held my face between his hands.

"I really need some sleep, and so do you I imagine, so go back to your hotel now ,allright? And come see me again sometime. To proof to me you're still alive, ok?"

I nodded for as far as his hands allowed that. We both got up, he gave me one last quick hug and then instructed someone of his crew to take me to my hotel. And I decided I would do anything to be in that front row again.

To proof to Harry that I was still alive.

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A.N: Sorry I took a while to update. I was really sick, high fever and such and I'm also working on another fanfic that is more Larry right away. It's called "Love You, X Lou". Give it a read if you want. Lemme know what you think, I'd really like some comments, but I got this story in my head anyway so there's no comment requirement for me to update. Might do a double update today to make up for the waiting. Till soon!