RUNAWAY [[A Harry Styles and Marcel fanfic]]

c-five-

~.*.*.*.~

“Please, please, please, please take me to your place,” i literally beg. This is the fartherst i have gone on pleading, and I am doing this in front of Harry Styles out of all people.

“We couldn’t perform because of you! Why should I even help you?” he is really pissed , or he is great at some pissing contest.

“You’re only worried about your payment, well of course you are.” I joke sarcastically and he only rolls his eyes. “Please just take me to your place and I’ll call Carly or Catilyn and they can take me away.” I let my attitude down for the sake of my runaway.

“and then i’ll have a bunch of screaming fans at my house.” He is getting on my nerves, even though i would have killed to see him under some other circumstance.

“They don’t like you.” Well of course they don’t.

“and you do?” a small smile is playing on his lips, i can imagine as i observe his eyes crinkle in the reflection of the rear-view mirror.

“not really.” I say quietly.

“not really means ‘please come to our wedding, my fiancé is a huge fan.” So these might have been the exact words Marcel must have said. The anger grows, and my throat seems dry again, making me hate him even more.

“you know what, i don’t need your help. Open the damn car.” I say as i jump back to the rear seat from the boot. He really is enjoying this scene.

“Gladly.” He smirks and presses the button by the door, and the doors unlock with a loud click. I pull at the handle and the door swings open. I hop out and my feet have turned numb from being crouched like that in the small area. I stumble outside and try to steady my pace. I want to turn around to have a full view of harry, sitting in his Range Rover, who had a conversation with me a few seconds ago, but i decide against it. Attitude, head up high Abby.

The engine of his car revs and i expect him to drive past me in  full spee, and my heart drops my stomach. It is really me again, alone, in this entire quest of running and hiding, without a cellphone, without money.

Carly’s idea of demanding a divorce was so much more sensible. I have always been stupid with my decisions, and the funny thing is, i never learn from them.

A horn honks behinf me and i turn to look at tHarry’s Rover, driving close behind me.

“What?” i frown at him, physically and emotionally drained out from the marriage shit.

“where will you go now?” this is the first time i get a proper view of Harry. He is wearing a black blazer, white and lilac orchids peeping out of his lapel buttonhole. I swear, i hate orchids, but these look beyond words can explain on harry. His voice seems restrained because he still is packed in the compactness of his car.

“To hell.” I snap back.

“hmmm, they sure do need you.” He rolls the window down, and juts out his head and laughs, though in the next instant, he stops. “no i am serious.”

“why would you care anyway?”

“so that the police don’t investigate me, when you’re found dead or something like that.”

“pathetic.” I say and continue walking ahead of his stupid black monster. The horn goes off again and i am starting to lose my patience. I turn around, fuming.

“hop in.” He says, and his voice lighter than before. I eye him suspiciously.

“don’t worry, i don’t bite.” Harry leans across the driver’s seat and the passenger seat open. I sit in, and gather the remaining of my white filthy gown on my lap and try to avoid staring at my idol’s face, begging for permission to lick it.

My heart is beating like crazy. I am actually going to Harry’s house. Anticipation leaves no room for other thoughts in my head. What does it look like? Is it a bungalow? Is it an apartment? How clean is it? Does he live there with the boys? Oh my good God, what if he does live with the boys? They probably hate me right now, just like harry does. Wait. Does harry hate me?

The first few notes of a miserable song on the radio clear my mind. I stretch my hand to change the channel, but Harry swats it away. “Don’t touch the radio, they’re very delicate.”

“i won’t be pulling it out of the circuits!”

“i don’t trust you, you just ran away from your rich ass wedding.”

I huff and put my hand back on where it toying with the fabric of the gown, which was balled up in my fist.

“and lean in to the dashboard at the red light. I don’t want to be in trouble with paparazzi.” I want to protest, but he has a point here. Neither do i want to be on the newspaper, and be found again. I also don’t want harry to be blamed for eloping with me, which is far from true, but the idea intrigues me, so i wander off to dream land in the brightness of the day.

The rest of the drive is silent, like i am in a taxi cab. I don’t want to be ogling at him, which i very badly want to do. Besides, i have no clue what to talk about.

“why did you do it?” Harry takes the first step and my heart leaps.

“do what?” i ask.

“decide to wear white today? I mean its Wednesday, aren’t you supposed to be wearing pink.” I shoot him an amalgam of a horrid and confused look. “Runaway from the wedding you idiot.” He lightly chuckles and i am absolutely mesmerised as the sound resonates through the metallic confines of the car, but then it strikes me, he just quoted mean girls, and things seem funnier and i laugh along with him.

In a better world i would be screaming in his face, jumping, but for what seems like a long time in ages, i am acting maturely. I sigh as the gravity of the situation pulls me down.

“i was being married to an absolute stranger. They were doing it to get rid of me. They could have warned me, i may have understood, studied, gotten a job or whatever, but they didn’t. So, i ran away, problem solved either ways.” I say sadly.

He stays silent and the blanket of awkwardness covers us again. The drive is longer than expected. I needed to hide three times as of yet, and the complete silence only increases the elapsed time taken to reach Harry’s house.

~.*.*.*.~

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