Marvels Of Fate

A Light Confrontation

I stare at my phone screen, unsure whether or not I should go through with this. Like Anne said I should inform my family, but doing so seems like a very taxing job. With a hesitant finger, I press the call button and lift the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Mus!" Mamma greets me, sounding a little too enthusiastic.

"Hi," I say unsurely. I have no clue where I'm headed with this conversation.

"How's work?" Mamma asks, and I hear horns blaring in the background.

"Look, if you're busy I can call later." I say, already chickening out.

"No, I'm just in the taxi. Go on."

"It's about...Harry and I." I squeeze my eyes shut, unsure of the reaction. There is none. I'm blessed with complete silence. And then it breaks.

"What?! Mus, are you telling me you're back with that man?" Mamma's tone is frantic and I know she's lost her shit wherever she is. "He created distances between us before. Imagine what he'll do this time?" I grip the edge of the bed tightly, trying to reign in my temper.

"He didn't create any wedges between us before." I utter through gritted teeth. "And please speak about my fiance with respect."

"Fiance?!" I move the phone away from my ear. "Oh God, no. Mus! You can't marry that asshole."

"I can and I am. We haven't fixed a date yet, but it'll be soon." I can hear mamma's heavy breathing at the other end of the line. "Look, mamma, I love him and he loves me. We tried to keep our distance, but it didn't work and to be honest, I don't wanna. If you truly want me to be happy, let me do this without being pessimistic and sending negative vibes in our direction." Mamma huffs.

"I...I just don't like that boy." Mamma says, sounding dejected all of a sudden.

"And you don't have to. I'm marrying him, not you." This phone call is going better than I thought it would. "Look, all I'm asking is for you to attend my wedding and be happy. Be happy that your daughter is marrying her knight in shining armor and know that he loves her very much."

"Fine." Mamma says it as if she's doing a favor upon me. "But still conversation isn't completely over. Gotta go now, bye!" Before I can say bye, the line goes dead. I remove the phone from my ear and stare at the screen. I think I've made enough calls for today. I chuck my phone onto the bed and get up. I jump back, startled. Harry is leaning against the door frame, smiling at me.

"Tough?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Very," I roll my eyes. "At least, she's coming." I shrug my shoulders, trying to see the brighter side.

"Gonna call your dad next?" Harry comes over to me and takes my hands in his, sending waves of calm through me already.

"Nope," I shake my head. "That's a task for another night." Harry kisses my forehead, keeping his lips there for a longer than he should, but you don't find me complaining.

"Whatever suits you, love." Harry moves to the bed and lies down. I move over to the other side of the bed and lay down, my head on Harry's legs. I curl my feet and stare up at my tired fiance. He has his arm thrown over his face.

"Long day, huh?" I question, toying with the hem of my shirt.

"Yeah. Jeff and I went over some contracts, but I was so distracted." Harry removes his arm and looks down at me, placing his hand on my forehead. He begins to pass his hand through my hair distractedly. "I kept coming up with new lyrics and I just had to get them down on paper before I forgot. It was frustrating, yet interesting. You know, I've managed to pen down some really great words."

"Why the sudden flow of ideas?" I question, not really sure how the whole thing works. I mean, I've tried to pen down some random words, but I can never manage to string together something as beautiful as what Harry writes. He truly has a gift.

"Because I'm content." Harry smiles at me, his dimple popping. "When I'm in my happy place, lyrics tend to just burst through my mind. When I'm upset the same thing happens. The only difference is in the former I manage to write some upbeat stuff and in the latter it's usually melancholic."

"Ah, now I know the workings of an artist's mind." I grin and Harry leans down, pressing his lips against mine.

"You're an artist too, love." Harry comments, gazing straight into my eyes. "Your books...they make me fall in love with you again and again."

"Why?" I ask, creasing my brow, confused.

"Because, my dear author, the female character always depicts you." Harry explains, his gaze subconsciously moving toward the copy of my new publication that is lying on the sofa. "After reading three of your books I realized that you're incapable of writing about another person. At least in the role of a female character because you write best when you write about yourself. Others don't know this, but reading your books definitely gives me an insight into your mind." Harry's hand stills on my forehead. "You're hard to read, like murky water. So your books have really aided me."

"Is that...a good thing?" I question, cocking my brow.

"Of course," Harry says hastily. "It makes me glad, you know, that not everyone can find a way through the maze in your mind, but I can."

"Consider yourself lucky," I wink at him.

"I do." Harry's expression becomes distant all of a sudden and he gasps. "I completely forgot! I had entered the room thinking of asking you when we're planning the big day."

"I don't know, to be honest." I shrug my shoulders. "When do you think?"

"Tomorrow?" Harry's eyes light up with hope. I smack his stomach, shaking my head.

"Whoa, easy there! Too soon," I say. "Mm...two months from now? Or is that too soon?"

"It's never too soon to call you Mrs. Styles." Harry grins. "First lets make sure that all family members and band members can attend. After that, we'll finalize the date." I nod my head.

"Good idea." Harry removes the pillow from behind his back and gently lifts my head, placing it underneath it. He gets off the bed and takes off his shirt.

"Want something to drink? I'm making some pretty good blends tonight," Harry says.

"No," I murmur. "Harry, can we talk later about...your addictions?" I stare at my hands, hoping I haven't completely ruined the perfect atmosphere in the room.

"Addictions? Bump, my only addiction is you." Harry says, his tone light.

"Harry, serious mode on." I get up and look at him directly. "Your alcohol and nicotine addiction." Harry furrows his brow. "You're harming yourself deeply and I don't want to have to watch my husband die when I'm only 40." I joke, trying to keep this conversation as light hearted as possible.

"They're...needs, love." Harry pouts. "Needs I don't want to quit." I sigh and get off the bed, walking over to Harry. I take his hand in mine and play with his rings.

"You said that they replaced the loss you felt for me, right?" I say, trying to put on my best innocent face. Harry nods hesitantly, unsure where I'm headed with this. "Well, I'm here now. We're together. Don't you think it's time for you to give them up?" Harry stares at me and I know the gears are turning in his brain.

"Yeah, you're right." Harry nods his head, smiling. "I'll try to reign them in and slowly stop altogether."

"Thank you." I say earnestly, meaning it.