hazel-grace.
"i can't believe your mother just let me come up to your room. she doesn't even know me," harry commented.
hazel-grace rolled over on her belly, staring down at the curly-haired boy seated on the floor; he was sitting cross-legged, just like he'd been when she first saw him. and again, she had chairs in her room, but harry completely ignored them. for some reason, this made her smile idiotically.
"she trusts my judgement. she doesn't think i'd bring you up here if you were some kind of creep," she told him.
harry chuckled. "yeah? what if i am a creep?"
she blinked at him seriously. "then i'm screwed, aren't i?"
"mmhm." he fell into a musing silence.
rolling off her bed, hazel-grace landed on the carpet beside him with a soft oof. "you okay?" he asked absently.
"yep." she drew her knees to her chest. their shoulders bumped, but harry didn't seem to notice. his green eyes were far-off, and hazel-grace found herself wondering how to get him back. "are you okay?"
"yep."
back to one-word answers. she bit back a sigh.
"why'd i come here?"
"huh?" she blinked at him. "how am i supposed to know the answer to that?"
letting out a soft groan, harry extended his body so he was lying face down on her carpet. he drew his hands over his face and whispered hoarsely, "i have no idea what's wrong with me."
she was silent, unsure of what could say. none of her counselor tricks would work in this situation; she was here as harry's friend.
some friend she was. say something, hazel-grace told herself. he's so torn up about this. god damn it, hazel-grace, do something.
"why did you come here, harry?" she asked softly, placing her hand on his back in what she hoped he'd take as a comforting gesture.
he went rigid under her touch, slowly peering up at her through his fringe of curls. "i don't know," he said sadly, and he looked exactly like a little boy(like one of her little brothers, maybe?) with those wide eyes and forlornly down-turned lips of his. harry was past an acceptable age for her to think he was adorable, but she thought it anyway.
"i just needed someone." he sat up straighter, taking her hand in his. "and you were the only person i could think of. the only one who would actually listen to me."
"i'm here to listen," she promised, squeezing his fingers. "but you're hardly talking."
at least he had stopped crying. it tore at her viciously to see him cry, even though she'd seen patients cry before. those horrible, broken tears didn't belong on harry's young face. he was no older than her, for crying out loud! he didn't deserve this kind of sadness--
shyly, harry said, "what if i said i didn't want to talk anymore?"
she huffed. "oh god, harry, not again. you can't ever make up your mind, can you?"
he pouted. "that's not true!"
"if you don't want to talk, what the heck do you want to do?"
his eyes flitted around her room, landing on the blue-bound book lying on her nightstand. he picked it up and walked over to her, sitting so that they were pressed close together. she could smell the cupcake-scent that clung to his clothes, and her lips twitched into a smile.
he handed the book to her. "read to me, hazel-grace."
she couldn't help but laugh. "harry, what are you? six years old?"
"turnin' seven on tuesday. better bake me cupcakes for my birthday." here he gave her a dopey wink and smiled his stupidly dimpled smile, clearly quite amused by his own impression of a little child.
"you're so stupid, oh my god." she opened the book and flipped to the first page. "you really want to read the fault in our stars?"
"might as well find out who this augustus guy really is," came the reply, words drowsy and dreamy. "plus, if you like the book, it can't be bad."
hazel-grace felt her heart warm as her mind replayed his innocenct request. "read to me, hazel-grace."
"he's not bad at all. it's an amazing book," she promised.
he grinned again, and lay his head on her shoulder, curls tickling her chin as he snuggled against her. hazel-grace's heart stuttered, and she scolded it furiously. she opened her mouth to read. "late in the winter of--"
"ha-azel gra-ace."
"harry, i swear to god, i will kill you, okay? what do you want?" she snapped, irritated at being interrupted. she got a little... touchy when it came to reading.
he wore a cheeky smile. he suddenly looked nothing like the broken boy who had arrived on her doorstep, sobbing and in tears. like, there was still that deep sadness in him, but there was something else too; there wasn't only sadness.
"i want," and his look got even slyer, which made her a little nervous, "to make sure that you don't fall in love with this augustus guy. you know, before we read the book. just in case."
"and just how do you aim to do that?" she squinted at him teasingly.
"easy."
and the boy with the curly hair and broken heart leaned in and kissed her. and his lips were warm, delicious, and soft, and they tasted like cupcakes and rain and sorrow and happiness and somewhere in that mess, hazel-grace kissed him back.
and when he pulled away, she only had two questions and they were who the fuck was augustus waters again? and could she please kiss harry styles again?
the end
~~~~
i actually finished something. green checkmark, here i come c:
i know it was short, but that was kind of the point. harry's not a-okay now, by any means. his road to emotional healing will be long; this just focused on hazel-grace and what little impact she was able to have on his life. you guys can make up your ending for them: i like to think that they stayed an adorkable pair of friends, but who knows???
thank you guys so much for reading! ily all a lot <3333
