Hollywood and Vines (A One Direction Fanfic)

Chapter 32 - Blue Velvet

Friday, June 14 -- 10:00 p.m

I was awaiting Harry's arrival.  He insisted that he would eat on the plane, but I asked my neighbor to pick up some M&M's and chips while she was going to the store this afternoon.  Ever since I moved into this apartment -- complete with a balcony, as Harry was fantasizing that one day--  on January 2, Harry has been making time to visit me about every five weeks.  I eagerly anticipate the few hours Harry visits me every month or so, because the days in between are vacant, unproductive.

I was, however, hired at H&M back in February, so Harry's proud of the fact that I don't sit alone in my apartment all afternoon, but standing behind a desk for three hours every afternoon doesn't feel much different.  Faces come and go, as they do in school.  Words tumble from my mouth when I converse with employees or peers, and they respond politely, but I stare at them, and they at me, before we part ways and proceed with our days.

I suppose I would still define myself as a cutter.  As an . . . anorexic.  God, I hated that word.  Loathed it.  If I could eat, I would, if I could resists the urges to slit my wrists, I would.  

But I can't.  I can't stop.

These months away from Allie have changed nothing.  Sure, I eat with Harry so our conversations won't have to revolve around my eating habits, but the minute he leaves, all the food is fed to the disposal.

Niall is the first thought on my mind when I wake up and the same thought haunting my mind when I fall asleep.  I long to gaze him in the eyes, touch him, smirk when he texts me, when he teases or kicks me.  I was trapped in a fantasical daydream about Niall when the doorbell rang.

"Holly,"  Harry brightened when I opened the door.  He drew me into a hug, and for about ten seconds we rocked back and forth in our tight, brotherly-sisterly embrace.  "How are you, Gorgeous?"

I shrugged.  "You know . . .."

"Smile for me, Beautiful."  Harry peered at me with a sweet smile gracing his lips.  "Where's that beautiful smile of yours?"

"Smiling . . . what's that?"  I curved the corners of my lips upward, but no one would ever define my attempt as a smile.

"Hey . . . I"m here, right?  That's a reason to smile."  Harry jutted his fingers into my mouth and tugged, trying to transfigure my lips into the shape of a smile.

"O'ay, o'ay, yop."  I gripped Harry's hands and tore them away from my face.  My lungs extracted a genuine laugh due to Harry's antics.

Harry chuckled.  "I knew you could do it."

"Thanks . . . you're the best."  I grinned.

"That's what big brothers are for, eh?"

"I sorta wish you could be sad with me, though, you know?"  I let my head drop and Harry took me into his arms.

"Holly," he murmured.  "I'm sorry.  I'm just used to making people laugh.  I'm in One Direction, it's part of my job to be fake sometimes, to forget about the sadness."

I removed myself from Harry and glared at him wryly.  "Shut up, you're not fake at all.  I'm just jealous that you can still smile and pretend that it's all okay.  I hate that I always look depressed."

Harry tipped my lips with his finger.  "Shh.  We'll talk about that later.  Let's choose to be happy."

I almost protested, almost told Harry that happiness was about as out of reach as the stars were, but instead I nodded.  We shuffled into through the living room to my bedroom where a cork board hung above my headboard.