Remembering How To Love {A Harry Styles Fanfic} [ON HOLD]

Chapter Three

MADDIE'S POV

I stare into the bathroom mirror. The girl in the reflection is staring back at me with tired blue eyes. Her blond hair is damp from the shower, a few strands clinging to her pale skin. A few freckles dust her button nose. Her soft pink lips are slightly chapped from the cold outside. All of these features are so strikingly familiar.

It's me.

It doesn't feel like it, though. I reach up and trace the mysterious cut that's just below my hairline, the image in the mirror mimicking my action. The cut throbs when I touch it. What could have possibly caused this? Maybe whatever it was is the reason that I cannot remember my own name. I sift through my thoughts, trying to remember something - anything. But nothing comes. All I get is a vague thought that slips through my grasp like a bar of soap. This is so frustrating!

I finally tire of staring at my reflection and decide to get dressed. The clothes that one of the boys had brought me consists of a large black t-shirt and gym shorts. I feel uncomfortable wearing someone's clothes, especially since I don't even know that person. As I pull on the outfit, including my bra and panties, I wonder why I agreed so easily to staying with these guys. I don't know who they are - I don't even know who I am - and yet I'm not freaking out at the idea of staying with these random people. Maybe it's the fact that I'm incapable of remembering anything that I cling onto the only option I have. Honestly, where would I go if it had not been for the boy who'd found me earlier?

After I get dressed, I walk down to the kitchen. It's completely silent and the only person in the room is the boy who'd found me earlier. "Your name is Harry, right?" I ask. He looks up from his bowl of Lucky Charms and nods. I walk over and lean against the counter as he shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

"So... where am I sleeping?" I ask after a moment or two.

Harry swallows the food in his mouth and shrugs. "There's a guest room down the hall. You can stay in there if you like. I'll have to get some blankets and a pillow," he says as he grabs the cereal. "Want some?"

I'm about to decline when my stomach gives a loud growl. I drop my hand to it instinctively, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Harry grins. "I'll take that as a yes." He collects a bowl from the cabinet and pours some cereal for me, then grabs the milk. "Hope Lucky Charms is alright."

We eat our cereal for a bit, then I decide to break the silence.

"So, you're, like, famous?" I ask, recalling when he'd mentioned that earlier.

"Yeah. You know the guys from earlier?" I nod. "Well, we're all in a band. One Direction."

He pauses, as if waiting for my reaction. "That's weird," he mutters.

"What?"

"I'm not used to girls, like, not... freaking out," he answers honestly.

I almost laugh. Really? "Why would I do that?" I ask. All I see standing in front of me is a normal teenage boy wearing a pair of baggy sweats and a t-shirt - who, at the moment, is acting a little ... what's the word? Conceited.

"Because I'm famous," Harry says, as though the answer is completely obvious. He then seems to regret saying that. "Okay, that sounded so stuck-up."

I nod in agreement. "Yeah, it did."

Silence settles over us as we continue eating. As Harry pours another bowl for himself, he glances up at me.

"So what's it like?"

"Huh?"

"What's it like to not remember anything?" He clarifies.

I look down at the marshmellows floating around in the milk. "I don't know. It's weird." I lick my chapped lips. "Not being able to remember anything is scary... I don't know who I am. Who my mom and dad is. If I have any siblings... I feel as though I'm lost."

Harry nods in understanding, although I'm not sure whether he does. "Well you don't have to worry about anything," he says. "I'm sure it'll all come back eventually."

I really hope so.

When we're done Harry takes my bowl and tosses it in the sink. I glance at the clock on the stove and see that it's nearly two in the morning.

"Maddie," Harry says. At first I don't realize he's talking to me, but then I remember that's what his friend called me. "Is that alright? Calling you that, I mean."

"Oh, it's fine," I say, shrugging.

"Okay, well... It's pretty, er, late. I'll go get some blankets and show you to the guest room."

As he collects a blanket and pillow from a closet across from the bathroom, I wonder why I feel so calm and collected. Considering the current situation, I'm sure most people panic when they can't remember what they did the day before - or who they are. I watch Harry leave the room and lie down on the bed. Sure, I don't know who these guys are, but for some reason, I can't help but feel secure.

A memory begins to surface, but it's lost as I'm swallowed up by unconciousness.