My Bestfriend, Harry Styles

Chapter 13

Tara's POV:

Quietly I close the door to my flat and lock it behind me. I have no idea where Harry is. It's midnight but I expect he will still be up. At the moment, I'm sort of unsure whether I want to see him or not. I'll just go with the flow. I take off the plimsolls Mary had let me borrow and replace them with my own slippers which I'd left by the door and pad over to the kitchen. Damn could I use a glass of wine right now. I leave the hallway lights off. Saving the environment and all of that shit.

Turning the corner, I see the dimmed lights of my sitting room and kitchen lit and a hunched body curved, shuddering, falling over my granite counter. His curls fall messily over his face, shielding his face to me, a bottle of beer clumsily held in his right hand, collapsed on the surface. If only the paps could see this. They'd have a field day with it.

Gently I stride over to the island counter which slightly separates the kitchen from the living room. He still hasn't noticed me yet, but I can now hear his ragged breath, in, out, in and out. It's strangely relaxing. I don't say a word as I stride over to the cupboard where I keep my wine and grab a bottle, but I'm certain that he knows I'm there. His muscles have tensed and I can no longer see the steady rise and fall of his back when he breathes. I ignore his discomfort and bring the bottle with me to the island next to him and shuffle my way on to the bar stool. Fuck I could really do with that drink right about now. Who really cares for glasses? In the end, we're all cave men any way. We've just dressed up a bit in the process and don't smell half as bad, although in some cases... let's not dwell. Unfortunately, the fates are quite simply not on my side. I scowl crossly at the bottle, as try hard as I might, I cannot unscrew the bottle cap.

Harry is the first to break the silence as he chuckles at my misfortune, grabs the bottle and quickly twists the lid off. I can feel my scowl only deepen as he successfully manages the clearly impressive feat, and drowning myself in my pathetic sorrows, I take a substantial gulp of the cheap wine which Harry had protested against buying, claiming he'd had better. To be perfectly honest, I don't doubt it, but it's not what I need right now. I need cheap wine to echo my cheap personality. I'm also frustrated because he still hasn't met my eyes. I'm not sure if I want to confront him, but I thought he'd at least try... I guess he knows me better than I'd expected.

"Fancy a bout of friends?" I ask. One Christmas Harry had got fed up of me constantly calling him to record the friends episodes on, so as a result, he'd gone out and bought all ten seasons of friends, consisting of 236 episodes.

"Love to." he croaked hoarsely.

We both made our way over to the sofa, me passing the bottle of wine to Harry before stumbling carelessly over to the DVD player to put in an episode of friends. I slouched down on the sofa next to Harry, chugging some more of the alcohol down my throat. I'm not usually one for drinking, but drinking might just help me decide whether I should have sex with him and become more, or whether I should tell him I'm too busy at uni to come to America and avoid him like the plague when he comes back. To be honest, that idea doesn't sound too appealing.

I watch Harry carefully in my peripheral vision. He doesn't seem drunk, and I haven't seen him take a mouthful of that beer in his hand since I came in. He's bleakly watching the re-run of friends that we've seen before. Seeing but not watching. There's a difference. Harry's mind is quite clearly off in another planet. Not that that's anything unusual. It's a rare and very special occasion when Harry is full present at all. He over thinks things. All the damn time! It used to get on my nerves, and I slowly began the long process of drawing him away from that habit when I first met him. Being famous though has brought it all back. 'The paps also have families to feed' Harry would say resignedly, claiming that 'I don't really mind them'. It's complete and utter bullshit. Every decision and action I watch Harry make is nearly constantly based on the outcome. If it's going to present a negative image to his audience, he won't do it. You just need him to be more selfish sometimes.