Twist Of Fate

Before The Battle

The day's finally here; my engagement day. Never thought it'd be with Carter, though. Heck, getting engaged was never part of the plan. However, it now unfortunately is. With the boys came a definite surge of energy, but I still remained disinterested with the whole ordeal. Though I did have my hands full when they came because they all wanted to shop for clothes, and shoes for themselves. That, itself, took up quite a long time. Men think women take long in shopping and getting ready. Well, they haven't timed themselves. Of course, everything has been arranged beautifully; the garden has been decorated perfectly and made to look festive, the goody-bags for the guests have been made, and placed away for later, rare flower bouquets decorate most of the tables and of course, my dress, makeup items, jewelry and shoes are all perfect. Maybe a little too perfect. There's nothing natural about this function. I mean, I strongly believe that somethings are better left alone, instead of being decorated and changed. However, there's not a blade of grass in the lawn that has been left untouched, and there's not an ounce of anything in here that shows a bit of humility and modesty. Dad and Carter have gone all out, and while I appreciate their efforts, I feel like it's a little too much. As the days toward my engagement neared, Harry grew farther. He distanced himself from me, the arrangements, and this house altogether. I barely saw him, but when I did, he avoided me, keeping his head low and just murmuring the occasional greeting to me. Maybe that's the reason why I'm feeling off today. Yeah, that's why!
Sure that's why, my subconscious snarls. I huff and play around with the curls that are streaming down my shoulders. I didn't even realize that my hair had grown this long. Oh well, I look nice. I take a good look at my dress in the mirror. I saw it and tried it on for the first time today. It's a champagne colored dress and usually, I don't like this color. However, on me it looks good. The dress is strapless and clings to my upper body, like a second skin, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. But I keep reassuring myself by saying just a few more hours, a few more. It definitely accents my hips and chest and then flows down loosely, touching the ground. I'm wearing black platforms underneath this dress, though there's really no need to go all out with the shoes because no one can see them anyway. A white bangle, with intricate flower designs made on it, adorns my right wrist. My fingers have been left bare of any rings because after all, in a few hours, I'll be wearing a ring that I'll have to wear almost all the time. I insisted on leaving my neck bare because any necklace that I'd have been forced to wear, I would've taken it off fifteen minutes into the function. The makeup done on my face looks natural, except for the lip gloss and eyeliner. But I look good, and I'm satisfied - well, not really - with what I have on. Kate didn't help at all with anything, she just sulked, fought with me and hung out with Liam. My cousins, on the other hand, were more than glad to help out and all this is thanks to them. Sighing, I get up and make my way across the room, toward the door.
This is it. I place my hands on the door, and lean my forehead against it. God, what am I doing, I internally groan. Deep breaths, Mus. Deep breaths. There's a knock at the door, startling me.
"Yeah?" I call out, hand on the door knob.
"It's me," Harry calls back. Relief surges through my veins and I yank open the door, pulling him in by the sleeve of his suit. "Whoa, there!" Harry's eyes rake over my body and a smile settles on his lips. "You...Words haven't been invented to describe how you look tonight." I shut the door and wrap my arms around Harry's neck.
"Just give me a second," I whisper. Harry wraps his arms around my body and snuggles his nose in my hair. We just stand there for a minute, maybe two, and even after feeling completely composed, I don't want to let him go. Now I'm just holding on to him because this feels right. This is the place of my comfort - my safe haven. Finally, I pull away, but not by choice.
"So I look good, huh?" I say, smiling.
"Like I said, a word, or even a string of them can't describe your beauty today, Mus." Harry says, taking a strand of my hair and tucking it behind my ear. I lean my cheek into his hand, and he holds it there. Warmth and calming vibes from Harry's palm spread through my whole body.
"Do you have something to...drink?" I ask, straightening up and locking the door. Harry raises his eyebrows, an amused smile adorning his lips.
"Excuse me?" He says, completely taken aback by my question.
"Oh God, don't act all innocent and confused right now. I need something and I need it bad." I'm practically hopping around the room out of nervousness.
"Uh, sure. I know what you mean," Harry reaches into his jacket and takes out a small bottle. It's clear and the liquid inside it is clear as well. Vodka. "I've had the need to turn to this beauty too, these past few days."
"I'm not drinking that by itself," I state. I look around the room. I saw a small Coke bottle in here somewhere. My eyes land on the red cap and I practically pounce toward the bottle. I yank it from it's hiding place and then hold it out to Harry. "There's a glass on the dressing table. Please make me a strong one." I pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger.
"Yes, Ma'am." Harry says, chuckling. Once he's done making the drink, he brings the glass over to me and I take it from his hands, greedily.
"Here goes nothing." I murmur, closing my eyes. Before I can think this through one more time, I place the glass to my lips and chug. Chug the whole drink down before I can let my taste buds kick in and taste the drink and before I let my nose get a waft of the drink. When I'm done, I bite my bottom lip and hold the glass out towards Harry.
"One more?" I say, shrugging my shoulders.
"Are you sure you can handle alcohol?" Harry looks at me uncertainly. "I've never seen you drink before-"
"Hey! I'm a strong gal, okay? Please, just make me another." Harry nods his head, but there's still hesitation in his eyes. I can feel the bitter taste of vodka on my tongue and there's a slight sensation of burn in my throat. However, I ignore them both and flop my ass on the bed. Harry brings over the second drink and I cup the glass with both hands and follow the same routine, as I did with the one before. Over the rim of the glass, I can see him watching me, with concern and amusement.
"You know how to drink, Mus." Harry compliments, seating himself beside me. I place the empty glass next to my left foot on the floor and nod my head.
"Thanks," I say. Much better. I feel more composed and...well, let's just say I can go down in the battlefield without wanting to throw up my lunch.
"That's it, right? Or do you want one more?" Harry questions, eyebrows raised. I shake my head.
"Gotta play it safe, right? Wouldn't sit well with the people downstairs if the bride-to-be is drunk." Harry flinches at the words, 'bride-to-be.'
"Nothing sits well with those people. Yesterday, out of frustration, I cracked a shitty joke and they all looked at me with eyes full of judgement and hatred." Harry shakes his head in mock disbelief.
"Oh yeah, they are a boring crowd." I shrug my shoulders. "Boring and conservative." I don't even bother to ask what the frustration was about because I already know the answer. "But in there defense, Harry, your jokes are pretty shitty and non-funny."
"Oh, come on! I can sell out comedy clubs. People would die to come and watch my comedic acts," Harry defends himself.
"Let me put it this way: before your stardom, no one would've come. You would be a flop and living in your Mum's house till date. Now that you're famous and all, everyone seated in that club would be a Directioner, who's just there to support you and nothing else." Harry's eyes widen, as if he's heard this for the first time. But then we both burst out laughing.
"I'm that bad, aren't I?" Harry says, still laughing.
"You aren't that bad. I mean, some of your jokes are funny." I assure him, even though we both know it's a lie.
"Oh, like the IHOP one?" Harry perks up, his eyes getting an excited gleam. Okay, maybe I only understand that I'm lying about some of his jokes being funny. I nod my head enthusiastically.
"Absolutely!" I exclaim, patting him on the back. I place my head on Harry's shoulder, as I fiddle with my bracelet. "Honestly, I wasn't too happy that you came in the start. But now I'm really glad that you showed up." I tell him earnestly. I can feel Harry smile, even though I can't see him.
"I'm glad that you're glad. There's nothing on my priority list above your happiness," Harry says. Silence follows his claim. Moments like these are what make my love for this man grow. He knows what to say, and how to say it - with the right amount of affection in his tone. Carter and I haven't had such a moment so far, and I don't know if we ever will. For some reason, my heart and mind tell me that only Harry is capable of saying such things, and making my heart flutter. God, he's doing it again - pulling me in. I lift my head off his shoulder, to find Harry staring at me, watching me. We're so close, I can feel his breath fan my face. I seal my lips shut, know full well their intention. But before I can move away to prevent what's going to happen next, Harry wraps his hand around the back of my head and pulls my lips to his. The minute they touch his, they loosen up. Harry lets out a short groan.
"God, I've missed this feeling." He murmurs against my lips, as he deepens our kiss by asking for entrance. I oblige and soon my arms are sliding up his back. A sudden knock at the door has me jumping off the bed, and as far away from Harry as I can get. I jog over to the door and open it just a crack. My first cousin's standing outside, grinning.
"Everyone's waiting downstairs, Mus! Come on," he urges.
"Okay, coming. Give me five," I say. He nods and turns around, the huge grin still plastered on his face. I shut the door and lock it again. I turn around, pressing my back to the door. It's the vodka, I tell myself.
"Wow," Harry whispers. "I-I'll leave." I nod my head, not making eye contact with him. I step away from the door, allowing Harry to exit. I make my way over to the dressing table and reapply my lip gloss. I forgot just how good it felt kissing Harry. Forget good, it makes me feel so euphoric and it's like when our lips touch, my nerves jump start, which is good. Groaning, I face-palm myself.