Nothing Matters

Chapter 19- happiness

Happiness

It was something I rarely felt after my dad passed. It frequently came here and there without my mum, but with both my parents gone and out of my life, I was enticed to no happiness, whatsoever. Elton brought me exhilaration and excitement, but no happiness. Harry, he brought me utter bliss, and it was simply breathtaking, the way he carried himself and his charisma that over powered my moody demeanor.

I hadn't seen him in what felt like months, but it had only been a few days. I could say I missed him, but I would come off as clingy. I pinned my bangs aside, over coming a shitty hangover that was caused from my late night thirst. Harry was gone, spending his time elsewhere and school was treating me bad. I had no other choice than to gulp down endless bottles of sour beer and sweet wine.

I opted to eat the last box of Oreos, but then I'd be angry with myself on the following days when I was in need of a snack. I had come home from school and dropped my bag at the door, immediately ambling towards the kitchen and finding a maroon bottle of red wine. The drinks added on from then on, and the last thing I remembered was singing along to the kitchenette radio. I woke up on the couch with one boot on, and my head pounded ridiculously.

I decided once again to ditch school and work my way slowly through this nerve wrecking headache. I took a shower and clad myself in a big tee shirt, no bottoms on. My phone chimed on the coffee table, and I groaned, reaching over too retrieve it.

"Whaaaaaat?" I hissed, screwing my eyes shut in agitation. It was silent and I was almost sure the person on the other end had hung up, but my assumptions were proven wrong when a throaty voice murmured through the line.

"Are you alright, Steph?" Harry inquired, and his voice was at a pulp, weak and saddened at my rude greeting. I gulped, carding a shaky hand through my wet hair.

"I'm fine, hungover s'all." I sighed, not acknowledging the fact that it was the first I'd heard his voice in a while. "I'm sorry, I just got back from a 3 day stay in Covent Garden. The boys and I just drove in early this morning... I was just calling to see if you wanted to get lunch, but knowing you're trying to take care of that hangover I change my mind. I'll be there in 10 minutes." He spoke softly sincerely at first then rapidly and rougher towards the end of his rant. I hadn't a word in the plan, because he simply cut the line before I could oblige or withdraw.

I huffed and trotted towards my bedroom to pull on a comfortable pair of green soccer shorts. There was no point in looking presentable, considering Harry's seen me during my worst appearances. I felt as if a thousand tiny knives were piercing my head with a careless force. It didn't matter though, because 3 raps at the door lifted my cheeks warmly, and I ambled to the foyer to pull open the barrier. "Look who it is." I gulped, drinking in his dark demeanor, silvery green eyes and shiny mussed hair.

He instantly stepped in and shut the door, brandishing a small cap of meds. His peacoat was black and bulky, and I rushed towards him to slip it from his arms and hang it over the back of the bar stool. "Are we something close enough to give me the right to kiss you hello. I've missed you." He teased, watching me with beady eyes.

I couldn't help but snicker and wrap my arms around his neck, intoxicated by his lush scent.

"How close do we have to be?" I whispered into his chest, the warmth he held radiating onto my body. A husky laugh escaped his lips before he grabbed my shoulders and held me away from him. "I don't do that friends with benefits shit."

And I think Harry Styles just asked to be my boyfriend.

"W-What?" I stammered, my lips forming into a thin line. He frowned and let go of my shoulders. "I think you know what I'm implying. I was going to ask you over lunch, but you had that dumb hangover and so I had to come here, but when I stepped through the door and saw you, just seeing you just made me.. I couldn't hold it in, I just-"