Secrets

She Knows

Blaire's P.O.V.

Comfort. That's what I have decided to call the feeling I have when I'm around Harry.

Two days ago he opened up to me. A tiny piece of him was revealed, leaving many more questions to be resolved.

He was so vulnerable in the moment. He was so unsure of himself. I was accustom to the feeling, I knew exactly how hard it is to open up.

It's amazing how similar the two of us are. Both guarded, scared, broken.

The little bit he shared was enough, for now anyway. I felt as though we could help each other, bringing us out of the darkness.

Light is what we'd see. It is what I am determined we will see. Along with the light comes hope. The problem with hope, if it gets too high there is a great chance of it falling. Falling, crashing, and burning. It happens all of the time. It is what I'm afraid of. Everything, once again, being destroyed.

But a little bit of fear is what keeps us going, right?

________________________

Harry's P.O.V.

Blaire and I's friendship is different than any other I have experienced in my life. It is different than the relationship I have, or had, with the boys. Yes, we only just met, but I feel as though I have known her for years. Instead of getting to know her, it's like I'm remembering her from something. As if I already know her, I'm simply reliving the memories.

Meet me at The Premises tomorrow morning. xx

I smile, thinking of the past few mornings we have met at the small café. I guess it has become "our place".

Sure thing, love. Xx

I reply with a childish grin on my face. Is it normal to smile this much? I've been doing it a lot lately, and I can't say I don't like it.

Morning seems to come the minute I close my eyes. My clock reads 9:00 A.M., meaning I have 20 minutes until I am meeting Blaire.

I jump out of bed and rush to the shower. The steaming hot water relaxes every muscle in my body right away, tempting me to stand there all day. Sadly, I have things to do, ruling that option out.

15 minutes later I am out of the shower and fully dressed, making sure I grab everything I need before running out the door.

It's a nice day in London. The sun is shining, a cool breeze is blowing, and the sky is a nice shade of blue.

Few fans await outside my flat, along with the occasional paparazzi. I would stop to sign and take pictures with the fans, but I can't keep Blaire waiting.

It is 9:18 A.M. and I am practically at the café. I reward myself for arriving early, starting off the day right.

Everything seems to be going my way so far.

Maybe today will be a good day, one of many to come.

I walk into the café and up to the register to order. It's 9:22 A.M. yet there is no sign of Blaire. She is not usually late, but I don't think much of it.

"One green tea and one vanilla cappuccino, please."

Blaire would be impressed with me knowing what she orders, it's obvious because she orders it everyday. She is quite the cappuccino addict.

"That is 7 €. You can have a seat until your order is ready."

I walk over to where our usual table is by the window, passing the newspaper and magazine counter as I do so. Something catches my eye as I pass the cart.

HARRY STYLES ADDING TO HIS COLLECTION OF WOMEN?

In large, bold letters the words I face daily are printed on the front magazine.

There are pictures of Blaire and me at different places, along with pictures of me at the bar accompanied by several random drunks.

The article is even worse, stating I have been "seeing many girls lately".

None of this is true, besides the Blaire part, of course. It amazes me how the press thinks they know every detail about my life, portraying me to be the bad guy.

If Blaire sees this before I have the chance to show and explain everything, she might not give me the chance to speak.

I need to find her, and soon.

It's 9:34 and I have that gut feeling that she is not coming.

Looking around the café, I search for her blonde hair. She is nowhere to be seen in the building.

Giving up, I make my way out the door, practically running to find her.

In between the café and her flat sit several magazine stands. She easily could have seen one and turned around.

I know that is what happened when I feel a crunch under my feet, it being a ripped in half magazine.

And yes, of course, it is the one with my picture on the front of it.