Anonymous (Harry Styles)

Chapter Three: Harry

For the rest of my life, I believed that there was only one word that could ever describe the night that I spent with the mystery girl from Rob’s wedding. That word just so happened to be untouchable. Nothing would ever erase it from my memory.

I woke next to mystery girl’s sleeping body, who I had returned to my hotel room with in the early hours of this morning, only now it happened to be two in the afternoon. She slept with a peaceful glow, a faint smile like a memory on her face, and I could only lie and watch her as if to preserve the memory even longer lasting.

As I grow old, the facts may grow dim and my memories might fade. I might forget some names but some things I know, will always stay with me. Like her blonde hair. Her laugh and my laugh melding together in some sort of unperfected harmony. Imperfect because our laughter was completely spontaneous. Nothing was forced, my smile wasn’t polite, it was genuine, my laugh wasn’t fake, I laughed because she brought it out of me. Mystery girl.

The mystery girl from the wedding, a girl who refused to let names define the two of us, just as she had predicted last night, we were just two people who had fun at a wedding, a boy and a girl.

I moved towards the phone, quickly ringing up reception and asking for breakfast for two. Trusting that they don’t recognise my voice, or at least they don’t leak a story to the tabloids about Harry Styles with some mystery girl. Then she’d be a mystery not only to me, but to the entire world.

Maybe that’s just who she is, a mystery to everyone she meets. A girl who seems so complete that you can’t possibly imagine a way to get into her life, yet you want to. You want to be part of this girl’s mystery.

What could her name be? Amy? Ellie? I just don’t know.

After five minutes of watching the mystery girl, hoping that some sort of divine inspiration will be brought upon me and I could wake her up and simply say her name, that would give her a reason to let me stay in her life. I want a part of her life.

A knock on the door brings me back to reality. I’m not just Harry, I’m Harry Styles. I’m not just a guy who met a girl at a wedding; I can’t pursue something with her as easily as I wish I could. I have responsibilities; I have an image to uphold. I can’t control my life as much as I want to, I don’t have the power to hold her in my arms and never let her go.

She mumurs in her slumber, as I move towards the door, grabbing clean clothes from my suitcase and putting them on before I open the door, greeting the hotel worker and taking the tray from them, and I make sure that my body blocks her sight so that she can’t see inside my room, she can’t see the secret that is still sleeping in my bed. Because once she’s no longer my secret, she’s just a girl who’s name I wish to know. Once she’s gone, I don’t think I could get her back.

I walk bare-footed across the floor, my feet pitter-pattering against the wooden floorboards, and I move across to the bed once more, sitting down, just as she wakes up.

Her grey eyes meet mine, and for a moment she glances around curiously, before her eyes seem to ignite with the memories, but suddenly shy the covers are drawn much tighter around her body. Who knew such a confident woman last night, could turn to the self-conscious girl before me?

“Morning.” I break the silence, my heart pounding, waiting for instant rejection, a gathering of clothes and her exit. Instead, the girl from last night shoots me a smile and replies good morning to me too, then gapes at the breakfast in bed, and grabs one of the slices of toast. I copy her movements, also grabbing some toast, but unlike her, I spread jam across the toast before eating it, aware of her eyes watching me as I eat.

“So… last night.” She begins, laughing that laugh that sparks memories of the night and early morning. Stumbling into rooms with our hands on each other’s bodies, steadying each other up, laughing because we could.

“It was fun.” She concludes, wiping her hands and grabbing my shirt from the wedding, slipping it on whilst hiding her body with the bed sheets. Once her face reappears, blushing slightly from the awkward air that seems to be between us. Then she stands, grabbing her bridesmaid dress and smoothing it on her arm, picking off invisible marks.

“I think I should probably go.” She points behind her, towards the door, but my brain freezes and I can’t find an excuse for her to stay. My desperation rises as she goes behind a screen, and after some silent moments, she’s now dressed back into her dress, looking for her shoes-which fortunate for me, she left at the wedding reception- and then she sighs, staring at the floor.

“I know this is a long shot.” I blurt, the girl’s eyes dart to look at me, although she seems nervous, she is still smiling, “But… maybe you-I… we could spend the day together? I mean, I’ve never quite met someone like you.”

“Really? You’ve never met a girl who hasn’t given you her name?” She jokes, her face lighting up, but then she looks back towards the door and my dread returns. “I don’t know… I mean, I have studies and stuff. Plus I came here with my parents and my sister; I think they’ll probably be going out of their mind’s anyway after my disappearance. I just don’t think I can.”

“Where do you live?” I ask but she bites her lip, and I know instantly I won’t get an answer.

This really was a one-night thing for her, wasn’t it?

“Is it just me?” I ask.

“What?” She questions, her nose squinting in confusion, squinting at me, like I’m the puzzle.

“I had fun last night. I haven’t had fun like that for a while-“ She laughs like a 9 year old girl just heard a swear word and I scowl, “Not like that.” But secretly I’m rejoicing that she’s able to find humour in the most immature innuendos, a trait that I happen to love. “I mean, I just loved spending time with you, I want to spend more time with you.”

“Harry…” She sighs, “I can’t. I want to. But it’s just not practical. Last night I may have seemed like some great mystery to you, but in reality I’m just a girl studying English at Uni… That’s it. There’s nothing more to me.” I shake my head, because a girl like that isn’t ordinary. “You on the other hand, you’re in a band, you travel the world, you’re in the newspapers daily, how am I supposed to spend time with someone like that when I’m so very ordinary?”

She’s not though. Even if everyone sees her as an ordinary girl, even herself, to me, she’s something else.

“Okay mystery girl.” I concede. “But, if we ever meet again, and we probably will because I need my chance to guess your name, and I will, so, when we meet again, just remember Mystery Girl, that my name is Harry, and I am going to guess yours.”

***

I know real Harry is probably nothing like this, but I actually can't handle Anonymous Harry. He is too cute.  

I know it's not very long, but it was a good cut-off point, the later chapters will get longer :)

If you enjoyed this chapter, please vote and comment! 

Also if you haven't already, you can also check out my other story, 'Sightless'! 

Plus, if you leave your name in the comment, I will most likely use it to guess 'her' name. Or you know.. if I've used your name, just leave a guess, what do you think her name is? 

Question of the chapter: How do you think Harry and the Girl will meet again? 

The song on the side is The Blower's Daughter by Damien Rice and I listened to it on repeat whilst writing this chapter, I love it!

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