Graphite || h.s

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

My fingers drummed repeatedly against the hard wood of the desk as I looked down at the photograph in my right hand. On the smooth surface of the Polaroid lay three smiling faces. Harry's, my own and Ed's.

It had been perfect. Meeting Ed that is.

Somehow, we wound up outside of his dressing room and crazily enough, somehow, Ed heard us whispering rather loudly.

What a coincidence?

Smiling to myself, I lay the photo down on the table and stood up from my chair.

"Morning." Harry groaned, sitting up in the mass of all the duvets.

"Morning sleepyhead." I poked my tongue out at him.

"We had a late night," He moaned, smothering his face with a pillow to block out the sunlight that was pouring into his eyes.

"It's not everyday you meet Ed Sheeran." I joked, slumping off into the kitchen.

My entire body was aching because I had the courtesy to lend the comfort of my bed to Harry, whilst I took the scratchy sofa. During the night, I tossed and turned. I was sleeping but my mind was clearly on full alert, ready to save myself if I fell to the ground in the dark.

When I reached the kitchen I pulled down my pyjama shorts, feeling slightly self-conscious about how much I may have been revealing. The kettle was flicked on and before long, it was bubbling away to itself.

Minutes later, I was seated at the kitchen island, eating pancakes and taking occasional sips of hot chocolate.

"Whatcha making? It smells good," Harry's tongue traced around his rosy pink lips.

"I made pancakes for myself. If you want anything, you'll have to make it yourself." I shrugged, biting off another piece of pancake.

"And may I ask why you never made me anything?" Harry hovered behind me, jabbing his finger into the side of my ribs.

"You were in bed." I squirmed and wriggled around as his hands tickled my skin.

"But I was awake." His bottom lip trembled playfully.

"Tough crap Styles," I laughed, continuing to eat my breakfast.

Soon, the plates were empty and our chatter was rife with laughter.

"And...when you went up to him and bro hugged him like you'd known him forever." I giggled, covering my hand with my mouth.

"You were just as bad. What kind of a person lends a celebrity their lipstick?" Harry's deep laughter filled the air.

"He wanted to know what shade it was."

That wasn't a lie of any sorts. He had genuinely expressed to see which shade of lipstick I had been wearing.

"Oh, Ed, here, take my lipstick. Try it on if you want." Harry replied in a girlish voice that was clearly meant to portray me.

"I didn't even say that." I bit back.

"You may as well have."

"What are you even implying?" I asked, my voice becoming impatient and louder by the second.

"You were flirting with Ed. Could you have made it any more obvious?" He shouted back.

"Why are you even bothered?" I looked away from him, focusing my gaze onto the kitchen tiles.

"I don't know, why am I?" Harry suddenly sounded a lot softer, and there was something undetectable in his voice. It was something I'd never heard before. It was anxiety.

"You tell me." I mumbled, rubbing up and down my forearm with my hand. I didn't expect an answer. I certainly didn't expect the answer I was given.

"Maybe, maybe I care about you." Harry's eyes tried to meet mine, but I couldn't allow him to. If I looked to closely, I might be sucked in by his avid green voids.

"So?" I frowned. We were getting nowhere. Nowhere fast anyway.

"Did you not just hear me? I care about you. I wouldn't want to see you hurt. Ed's a nice lad, but he could be different behind closed doors." Harry's thumb stroked over the back of my hand. Hastily, I pulled it away.

"Ed probably is a nice lad, but I have no interest in him. I barely know him Harry." Gradually, I was becoming exasperated. Harry had no idea what he was doing to me. He was slowly tearing me down, so that I was crumbling. At some point, I'd reach my tether and I'd snap.

"Good," Harry sighed. Good? What was that supposed to mean?

"Harry," I began quietly, "since when did you care about me so much and why?"

"No idea," He chuckled gently, "and it's like an older brother's instinct I guess."

"Oh ok." I didn't know what else to say.

"Sadie, I have a question for you." Harry swivelled himself on his chair, so that he had my full attention.

"Shoot."

"What does love feel like?"

His question shocked me. I was preparing for something a little different. What did love feel like? I'd been in love before - well I thought I had - but I didn't know how to describe it. It wasn't easy to put into words.

"I guess, I guess it's where you get butterflies every time you think about somebody. When you can't stand to be apart and a five minute walking distance feels too far. I guess love is when you know for definite that you want to spend the rest of your life with one person. It's easy to fall in love, but it's harder to fall out of love." I tried to fathom why he would ask such a question.

As if reading my thoughts, he replied, "There's a girl. She's beautiful, eccentric and she has a smile that lights up the whole room. If I could, I'd spend everyday with her. Except, I can't because she's busy sometimes and she's in her own head."

"What's her name?" I was curious. She sounded perfect for Harry and well, if he was happy then I'd be happy for him.

"Jane," He smiled coyly. His cheeks had turned crimson red, a colour that rarely graced his features.

"How did you meet her?" I tilted my head towards him, waiting to hear the story of how this girl got him so enticed.

"I was on holiday and erm, she just happened to be staying at the same hotel. Erm, we bumped into each other a few times and erm, became quite good friends." He didn't delve into as much detail as I'd hoped, but I was satisfied.

"Who knows Harry? One day, I could be walking down the aisle as a bridesmaid."

(A/N) Aw cute, Harry's besotted. Jane, huh? Jarry? Or Hane?