Fire (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 43

The Next Day:

“Are you ready?” Aubrey asked, tilting her head sideways. I inhaled deeply, before brushing down the skirt of the flaring dress Aubrey had loaned me, as well as the audacious studded shoes. I twiddled with my pre-curled hair, twisting it around my finger, and sub-consciously biting my lip as we prepared to enter the room. I swallowed hard, blinked twice and then nodded my head. Aubrey took my hand, leading me into the room that I presumed was the source of the booming music and loud nattering. The music made me cringe; it was heavy bass with meaningless lyrics, something to do with “fucking bitches” from my reckoning. The room was filled with strangers.

“You did talk to your dad about staying right?” Aubrey asked, her lips had to be pressed almost against my ear for me to even have a chance of hearing her. I nodded in reply. I hadn’t seen my dad in almost 3 days. It was strange not being with him. This party was beginning to seem like a mistake. It had seemed like such a great idea when we first thought of it, now…it just seemed like too much too soon.

Aubrey released my hand and drifted into the crowd of strangers. Most of the girls were wearing tight-fitting licra dresses, grinding against boys that stood behind them. I would never understand such an impulse as that, I found it revolting to look at, let alone be a part of. I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t want to be in a position such as this. I mean, what were these parties for if not for hooking up with a stranger? I didn’t want a stranger! I don’t know what I want.

“Violet,” Aubrey shouted, her face came back into view, her purple waves were flowing down her shoulders, and emphasizing the neckline of the shimmering pearl dress she wore. I smiled at her, glad of her return; it wasn’t until seconds later I noticed the tall boy that followed her.

“Violet, this is Dylan.” She announced, he stepped forward in front of her, taking my hand in his, shaking it gently. A small smile played at his lips, revealing his pearly white teeth and a small amount of stubble framing his chin. His hair was pulled to one side in a messy parting, he was quite the charmer. I don’t care though…I didn’t want a hook up, this was clearly what Aubrey had intended for it to be.

“Nice to meet you, Violet.” He said, the smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth. His voice was deep and raspy, a little like Harry’s.

“You too.” I said shyly. I tried to put aside any thoughts of a hook up, making it blatantly obvious that I was in no way looking for that.

“Would you like to go somewhere more quiet?” He asked, raising his eyebrow. His eyes were black in the low lighting of the room, although his tone remained upbeat and gentlemanly.

“I’m fine here.” I replied, looking to the side, observing all the dancing bodies surrounding us. He looked puzzled. The smile from earlier had dissipated and was now replaced with shock, I assumed not many women had turned him down before. He shrugged it off quickly though. He stood up straight from his leaning position and moved a little closer. He aired confidence, a trait that I found repellent if used too much. As his arm brushed aside mine, I decided that was enough. I turned around and walked away, towards the bright white lights of the kitchen. I stumbled in, breaking through the edge of the thick crowd.

Only a few people lingered in the kitchen, three or four stood around the fridge, raiding it, probably got the munchies or something. I moved directly to the sink, placing my hands on either side, letting my head fall between my shoulders. I squeezed my eyes shut, and hoped that this was a dream. I didn’t want to be here, I wanted to be in my bed with Harry’s arm wrapped around me, I wanted to feel the comfort that only he could give me. I couldn’t though. For all I know, he was already in the embrace of another. It’s like I’m living in a dreamland, stuck in a fantasy, wishing for something that was never real in the first place. It was the type of feeling you got when you just finished reading a series of books that you fell in love with, you get to the end, and you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’ve been tangled up in that world, and it was ripped away from you in the little full stop at the end. That’s exactly what it felt like. It felt like the whole thing Harry and I had shared was just a book. It wasn’t real. It was a lie.

“Violet?” A kind voice asked, the deep raspy tones belonging to Dylan. I whipped my head up immediately after he had placed his palm on my back.

“Are you alright?” He asked again. His accent was slightly more posh than my own. I turned around, my back facing the sink, hands still gripping the edge of the counter for support.

“Yes, I’m okay.” I lied.

“What’s wrong?” He said, still not convinced by my deceit.

“Nothing is wrong, will you let it go.” I pleaded, giving him a sideways glare and swiftly walking to the other side of the large kitchen. I moved to the island in the middle of the room, perching myself on top of the counter, crossing my legs on the table. I pulled down the skirt of the dress to avoid the prying eyes of Dylan seeing something he shouldn’t.

“I’m not an idiot you know.” He said, turning on his heel to face me. I could see his eyes better in this light, well; I could see everything better in this light. They shone a magnificent blue, a brighter version of my own to some degree. He crossed his arms over his chest, expecting an answer from me I presume. I huffed and flicked my vision from my feet to his eyes, over and over again until the silence rolled on for an awkward amount of time.

“I know you’re not an idiot.” I huffed once again, hoping to avoid the topic. I didn’t really feel like discussing Harry with him right now.

“Look…if you really don’t want to tell me, then fine. I just thought it might help is all…” He said, unfolding his arms and walking out of the kitchen.

“Wait.” I said, he stepped backwards, his body positioned directly in front of me. I raised my eyebrows at him and invited him to sit on the counter next to me by tapping my palm on the marble surface. I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl beside me as he edged his way onto the counter-top.

“Want one?” I asked, offering an apple for him to take. He accepted graciously. He rubbed the apple on his shirt before taking a bite, the sort of thing you saw in the movies. I giggled slightly, as did he. I can honestly say I didn’t expect this to happen. I didn’t like him at all ten minutes ago, but he was quickly becoming a friend. We sat and chatted for a large proportion of the party, laughing and joking with each other. Even as Dylan and I grew closer, there was still the burning allegiance to Harry looming within me.