Pressure [hs au]

26 - Partition**

(a/n: i'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update this!!! please don't hate me😭)

Word Count: 3768

After Harry had left my room, I immediately fell asleep with a dumb grin on my face. He could be so random and spontaneous and I'd be lying if I said I didn't love every second of it.

Several short hours later, I woke up to the sun shining through the curtains, nearly blinding me.

I showered quickly, did my hair and makeup per usual, trying to be at least decently fast. My phone was still charging and I hadn't checked the time yet; I hope it's not past noon already.

I pulled a burgundy sweater on with dark skinny jeans before there was a quiet knock on the door.

"Come in," I half-shouted from the bed, pulling up a pair of socks. The door swings open, and as I guessed, Harry walks in, dressed in burgundy as well. I am mentally rolling my eyes a million times over, but just grin instead.

"Hi, Harry!" He smiles back, walking over to the opposite corner of the bed.

"So, we both slept through breakfast, which is fine really, Mum can't really cook-"

"I heard that Harry!" Anne shouts from down the hall. His eyes widen and I swallow a laugh, biting my lip to keep my mouth shut.

"But," his voice is much lower now, praying his Mom can't hear us, "We can either make something or run out quick. Gemma is due in an hour." I nodded, scratching the back of my neck. I really didn't care what we did, I wasn't all that hungry quite honestly.

"We could make something? I don't need anything, really." He rolls his eyes, standing up and holding out a hand for me.

"Please, breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Now I roll my eyes at the cliche line, somewhat annoyed.

I don't care what science has to say, every time my Mom made me eat breakfast before school I always ended up getting sick. She still insisted on telling me every morning how important breakfast was.

"Yeah, okay." I spit back sarcastically, taking his hand. He pulls me up with ease, heading out the door with my hand still in his. I can't describe the feeling, its as if my heart is clenching or sucking part of itself in, if that makes any sense. My breathing is shallow, and I feel my neck heating up all of a sudden.

All from holding his damn hand.

We make it several short steps down the hall before his Mother steps out of her room, clad in a mint green track suit. Her eyes immediately fall on our intertwined hands and I tug mine back, blushing instantaneously, but Harry tightens his grip, keeping my hand locked in place.

Damn you and your viper like grip Styles.

Anne begins telling Harry off about dissing her cooking, which would probably have been funny to listen in on, but my ears clouded over. I zoned out, staring at a part of the wall where the wallpaper was peeling.

You probably couldn't see it, unless you were specifically looking for tiny tears in the wall.

I squeeze my eyes shut momentarily, a strong pain in the back of my head suddenly.

My hand swung a little whenever Harry moved, probably using his other hand to emphasize his point, whatever they were.

Before I realized what was happening, Anne had went back into her respective room and Harry had brought me down the stairs and into the kitchen.