15 Years // harry styles

chapter four

B

I don't keep track of the time, but I know it's not enough. I learned more about Harry Edward Styles than any pop magazine or tumblr post could teach me in that cemetery.

He loves to read. He likes sunrises more than sunsets. He's very proud of his messy bun abilities. He doesn't share beds well unless the person is willing to cuddle him- if they don't, they'll be "cuddled involuntarily". He's always cold, and he has a secret stash of fuzzy socks in his tour bag. He misses his dog cause he hasn't seen him in a few months, but sometimes his mom will FaceTime just so he can talk to him ("Don't you dare tell anyone that Bailey Conrad. And I mean it!").

But as my head swims with all the new information I've learned, I can see the sun setting behind him and my perfect little day slipping from me. I know he can feel it too, but he doesn't say anything for a while. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I grab it. A text from Jerry.

ready for me to come get you?

sure. text me when you're here.

"I think my driver thought I was dead," I chuckle, stowing my phone in my pocket.

"Your driver? Whose the famous one now?" He nudges my shoulder, laughing a little. I look over at him with a smile, a raindrop suddenly landing on his nose. He goes cross eyed and my heart flutters a little. He flips his tongue up trying to lick it off.

"You're a dork," I tease, nudging his shoulder back, the rain beginning to fall heavily now.

"Yeah, but I'm a dork with an umbrella," he points out, quirking an eyebrow before grabbing his camera and hopping up, disappearing underneath the willow tree a few feet away.

He peaks back out from behind the green strands that hang from the branches to the ground, a mischievous grin on his face as he motions for me to join him. My knees feel a bit like jelly when I stand up, balling up the blanket and taking one more fleeting glance at my parents headstone before jogging over to meet him.

He holds the strands back for me with both arms, and as I duck under his arm, his fingertips accidentally graze my hair and my cheek, sending electricity through me.

When he lets the curtain close again, in this new, dry little world, I can't describe what's happening inside of me. He feels like a new book; crisp pages and adventures hidden in dark ink on pale paper and I can't stop reading. I'm hooked. I realize I'm staring again, but when I come to, he's staring right back at me.

Oh I am fucked.

He turns his back to me, returning to the edge of the tree while I lean against the trunk, just watching him.

"It's really coming down out there," he murmurs, and I can imagine the wonder in his eyes as he looks up at the clouds. "C'mere."

I walk slowly towards him, and I have to keep my heart from bursting when his arm wraps around my shoulder. He pulls me close to him so he can keep the strands mostly closed.

The sunset is being smothered in dark clouds, and it really is coming down hard, the rain pelting the graves and the pavement.

"The walk back is gonna suck," he says, making me frown.

"You walked here?"

"Yeah. Usually security would drive me, but I didn't want anyone breathing down my neck for once. I got a ride from someone for part of the way, but I'm on my own for the way back."

My tongue doesn't wait for my brain.

"My driver will be here soon. I bet he'd take you back." My brain catches up, trying to brace me for disappointment. "You know, if you want. You don't have to if you don't want. Don't feel like you have to."

I'm thankful when he cuts off my ramble with a quick "That sounds really nice. Thanks B."

"B?" I ask quietly, blushing again. By now it's dark enough that I hope he can't see.

"Yeah. B."

I'm about to tell him I like it, but my phone distracts me. Jerry is here.

"That's our cue. You ready?"

He nods, gathering the blanket off the ground and covering his camera with it before pulling the strands back again.

I run out, and of course, my clumsy ass almost slips in the mud, but my hands find his bicep and wrap around it. I feel his fingers pulling mine off and my stomach drops to my muddy shoes, until he shifts and intertwines our hands, pulling me along through the dark in the pouring rain, towards the taxi lights in the distance, laughing the whole way.