New York [harry styles au]

14

14.
October had left and it was now November. I liked November. Not only was it my birth-month but it had a comforting essence around it. October seemed a bit unnerving, with its Halloween celebrations, and now November was leading us into the cosy winter ahead; at least I hoped it would be cosy. If we thought it was cold in October, we had definitely underestimated it. Harry's apartment was beginning to feel like an igloo. Every time we travelled to the local supermarket, like a normal couple, I found Harry piling more and more blankets into the trolley or basket. Whilst we are on the subject of Harry and I, I was just as confused as anybody else who speculated the relationship. We hadn't discussed it and I don't think we ever thought about discussing it but that wasn't all a bad thing, I guess we were merely carefree. I didn't really mind, though. In the group, it seemed that we could never compete with Smith and Beatrix as most authoritative couple -- but we clearly could be the most unusual.

"What do you want for dinner?" Harry asked as we entered the apartment. I placed the shopping bags onto the coffee table and went to taking my scarf and wooly gloves from my body.

"I thought I was cooking tonight?"

"Oh, I thought it was me. I don't mind cooking us up something if you don't feel up to it." He said, discarding of his scarf and throwing it over one of the dining chairs. We had recently bought a dining table, chairs included, together-- somewhat a milestone in whatever this relationship was.

"We can always just order something in?" I immediately see a smile widen over his face and I chuckle.

"Yeah, that would be grand." He says before moving closer and tackling me to the sofa, kissing my cheek. We lied there for a moment or two, relaxing ours legs after the walking we had done around New York that day.

"What do you feel like?"

"Pizza, you?" He glanced up, his smile still slightly present.

"I was thinking the same thing."

He pecks my lips before leaving the sofa and stepping to the telephone, not expecting it to ring before he had even picked it up. I look at him with an amused smile, he returns before holding the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

I watch as his expression changes from positive to negative in a matter of seconds. He looks worried for a split second, before the emotion leaves and is replaced by anguish.

"Beatrix, that isn't my problem. It can't be difficult to console her, have you tried?"

Silence.

"I'm not her father."

Silence again.

"She doesn't want to talk to you." He peers at me and I instantly perk up. I stand from the sofa and step towards him.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Nothing, Winona. Don't worry."

"Is she asking for me?"

"No, Winona-- I mean, yes." He says, and I hear Beatrix's 'pass me to Winona' from the close proximity to the phone.

"Give the phone to me." I instruct, Harry is hesitant at first, "Harry."

He huffs before handing the telephone to me, the wire almost becoming tangled between hands. I place it to my ear as he walks away to the sofa, falling back onto it and crossing his arms.

"Hey, Beatrix, what's wrong?"

"It's Angelina. She's completely gone off the rails, Winona. Smith is in work, I can't get in contact with him. You two are my only chance of help. There's no way of getting through to her. She's just in the corner of the living room, shuddering and crying. When I try to talk to her, she just stares at me with this horrible stare as though she can't even understand English," I hear Beatrix release a horrified cry, "Please, Winona, can at least one of you come to help her?"