Merry Happy

Chapter Nineteen

It was already the morning of Christmas Eve and Quinn was sitting on top of the window ledge with a cup of steaming tea in her hands. Outside the snow came down in careful flakes, adding to the two feet of snow that already covered most of London from the night before.

Taking a sip of her Earl Grey and watching the cabs and cars drive along the slush covered roads below them, she thought back to this time last year. It was hard to keep the smile off her face as she recalled the night of the big snow storm, where they had lost all power and Harry and Quinn had invited all of their friends over to make the most of the situation.

They had spent all night drinking and telling stupid stories around a single Vanilla Cookie scented candle.

Leaning her forehead against the window, she found herself thinking back to the last few days, which had been nothing less than 'better'. After that night in Brixton a few nights ago with Harry, things had really changed for the better. It was starting to feel normal again. Less strained, less fake, less egg-shell walking.

They had both even made dinner for themselves the other night, burning the chicken parm to absolute shit and having to call for take-out afterwards. But nonetheless, things were looking a lot better and Quinn hated the feeling of familiarity that it ensued.

She took another sip of her tea, trying not to think about the past. She hated thinking about the days before their relationship had gone south, but she still found these memories inevitable sometimes.

Even in her dreams, her subconscious played an endless repeat of her best moments with Harry Styles, like a full featured film running on repeat behind her eyelids and it wasn't fair, she thought.

Quinn took another sip of her tea, 2 sugars with no milk, just like she liked it. It's not fair, she thought, it's not fair that all I think of is the good. Not when everything had never been sugar and gumdrops with Harry Styles. Not when the reality of their relationship was a string of curse words and empty threats, thrown at each other at the top of their lungs, from across the dinner table or between closed doors.

It had been the reason they had broken up, hadn't it been?

And it had only been the other day in Brixton that she had come to terms with it.

Things were different and she knew it, she felt it. They had been different for a long time and she regrets realizing that she hadn't figured it all out until then. Looking at him then, hands full of popcorn and eyes hooded in the run-down theatre, it reminded her too much of the last time they had seen a film together, the last time he had sat beside her with popcorn grease and hooded eyes. It hadn't been the same.

"Quinn!" Sandra called from the other room, her smile looking quite motherly as she rubbed her soapy hands on her apron. "Quinn, honey. Carson's here!"

Behind her came Carson, a sheepish smile on his face as he ran a hand through his messy hair. He was wearing mismatched socks and a dark peacoat.

Quinn smiled warmly at him. "Hello there."

"Hi right back at you." He walked over, taking a seat in the recliner close to where she sat on the window sill. Quinn glanced back over at her mother, who still stood in the doorway of the living room with a patient smile on her face.

"Carson, will you be staying for dinner?" Sandra asked as Quinn looked over at Carson, waiting for a response. She didn't mind that her mother was inviting him to Christmas dinner. She knew Harry wouldn't do anything to piss her off or embarrass her, so she didn't see any harm in him staying.

"Sure, I'd love to. If that's alright." He said, giving Quinn's mother a charming smile. "I wouldn't want to impose."

Sandra laughed, "Oh, honey. Having you there will be a breath of fresh air. Someone to talk to other than Niall and his atrocious stories of creatures growing from the pizza boxes he has under his bed."