The Shortys

UTLOTM - 10 yrs. later pt. 7 - Rooftop party

Sunday, September 3rd, 2017

Author's Note: Part 7 of this #HarryStyles Fan-Fic. Not the real Harry Styles, mind you, this is a work of fiction and fiction does mean "make believe" or "not real", the character in this and any other fan-fics I write only bear in physical resemblance, the rest is just pulled outta my own head. Or my own arse, whichever it happens to be in that moment. lol :D

---- I think at some point I may add this to the "Under the Light of the Moon" book I'm sporadically working on, as it kind of fits the idear and direction I had for that book, this taking place many years later. I'm not really sure yet though, this could just end up as a stand alone as well. Only time will tell.

---- The pic you see above is something I nicked of google images, of a condo rooftop in the River West neighborhood of Chicago, I added it to sort of give you an idear of what Julia's fictitious condo rooftop looks like, complete w/ the city skyline of Chicago. Photographer Unknown.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

          He laid there for a long time, eyes closed, just listening to the talk and laughter going on around him, listening to her heartbeat, slow and steady and strong, to her laughter as it vibrated through her body, and then through his, making him snuggle just a little closer to her so he could really hear her voice through where his head now rested between her shoulder and her chest.  He snuggled up just a little more underneath the throw she had so thoughtfully given him earlier when the cool Chicago breeze made him shiver ever so slightly, and wondered for a moment whether she was chilly too and if he should try to share the cozy warmth he was feeling underneath the throw with her.

          A part of him wanted to open his eyes and sit up, join in on the conversation that flowed so freely around him, their voices softly ebbing and flowing like the breeze that caressed him, mingled with occasional laughter and an easy silence as they would pause to see who was going to talk next, what stories they were going to share about their life and experiences on and off the road, before another would speak up and the talk and laughter would begin again.

           A larger part of him wanted to stay right where he was.  He knew he should sit up, to be the man and let her snuggle up to him, but he was just drunk enough that he didn't care -- not that he was inebriated, more like pleasantly buzzed.  It felt good being right where he was, on her condo rooftop patio, snuggled up to her under the Chicago sky with the full, golden yellow harvest moon hanging low on the eastern horizon, surrounded by the people he loved most dearly.  And none more so than her.

          He sighed deeply, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth at something funny someone had said, while the scent of her, her perfume, and the smell of the campfire on her clothes sent him into a state of relaxed, happy contentment.  It reminded him of home, of the campfires his family would have in the backyard when he was a kid, roasting marshmallows and looking up at the star filled, Cheshire summer sky in wonder while his mum or dad would point out the different constellations to he and his sister, filling their young minds with stories of how the constellations came to be.

           A wave of sadness washed over him as he thought of his family, of how he was the only one left now to carry on those stories and those memories to his kids, if he ever did have kids someday.  He kept that sadness in check, trying hard not to succumb yet again to the overwhelming, crushing sadness that weighed heavy in his heart, in his soul, for the past five years, ever since he lost his entire family in a plane crash as they were flying home from visiting him in Los Angeles.  Instead he focused on the laughter and love he felt around him, that he felt in him, and of how connected he felt to everyone, even though he wasn't really a part of the conversation; he knew he didn't have to be to still be a part of it, a part of everyone sitting on her condo rooftop that fall eve, and that they were an integral part of his life as much as he was a part of theirs.  He realized that this was his family now, and maybe had always been, his closest friends and the woman he loved so deeply, and that he'd come to trust, rely, and depend on them – and her, as much as they did he.