kaitlynn rose // h.s

homework day

kaitlynnrose: just found this on twitter & thought I'd share it on insta bc issa big mood

We are three weeks away from Thanksgiving break. Three weeks away from going to England. Three weeks away from flying to another country with Harry and meeting all of his family even though we aren't together or even dating for that matter. It's been a few weeks since he bought my outfit for the wedding and somehow I've avoided blurting all of the questions that I have out loud.

It's Friday once again and I just got out of my math class. Now I'm heading to Harry's place to help him revise his English paper, which is due on Monday. I hadn't really spent time with him outside of class this week.

I still have half a paper to write. Harry is really trying to get a good grade though, so he finished his early so I could help him again.

When he swings his door open, he's only in his underwear. I can't help but roll my eyes at him as he steps aside to let me in with a smile on his face.

"You own so many clothes. Like, so many. Why don't you wear them?"

"Too much work," he shrugs. "But I know how much you can't resist me, so I'll put some on."

I glare at him and he laughs as he grabs a hoodie from the back of the couch. He slips it over his head and leads me to the kitchen.

"You want food, Kait?"

"I'm good right now," I shake my head. "Wine?"

"Sure. Let's do glasses this time, though."

I pull my notebook out of my bag as he moves around the kitchen to get wine in glasses for us. He sets the glasses in front of me and disappears for a second. He comes back in the room with his notebook and paper.

"I don't think this is any better than the last one, but I did use your notes quite a bit so I'm hoping it's a little better."

We both sit down on the bar stools along the kitchen island as he slides his paper in front of me on the counter. He works on something in his notebook as I start going through his paper. I do the same thing I did last time, marking changes and mistakes along the sides and between the lines. It did seem better in comparison to the last one; it seemed like he really took my notes into consideration and spent a lot of time on this. When I'm done, I slide it back over to Harry.

"Done?"

"Mhm. I'm weirdly proud of you," I smile. "This was a lot better than the last one."

"Really?" he mirrors my smile as he picks up the paper.

I sit quietly and sip wine from my glass while he reads through my notes. He asks me what I mean for a few of them, but for the most part he seems to understand what I wrote. Once he's done, he sets it aside and brings his notebook in front of him again.

"Can I show you something?"

"Sure," I nod.

"I mentioned that I'm not good at academic writing and stuff," he mumbles quietly, not looking over at me. He seemed really nervous all the sudden. "But, I am kind of good at writing stuff creatively."

"It's very different writing. I believe it. What kind of writing?"

"Songs," he says quietly.

"Songs? You write songs?"

He slides his notebook over to me and I get a look at his scribbly handwriting all across the page. It looks like my writing style - messy and all over the place with stuff crossed out here and there. Across the top of the page is the title: A.M.

As I read through the lyrics, I'm more in awe oh Harry than I have ever been.

"Harry," I mumble, looking at him with adoration. He seemed so tense and nervous. "This is amazing."

"Yeah? S'kinda about you," he whispers. "Wrote it after you were over last week. Not all of it is completely about you, but the context is, if that makes sense."

"You wrote a song about me?"

"Is that weird? I shouldn't have shown you this, I'm-"

"No, it's not weird. Writers use experience and people in their stories - or in this case, songs. It's normal. I've written about a bunch of people in my life."

"Yeah? Am I one of them?" he smirks at me.

"No," I shake my head. "That's a good thing though, because every time I've used people and experience in any of my writing it's been more about me venting on paper. So all of it is in pretty bad light."

"You've had that many bad experiences?"

"I started writing a lot after my mom died," I shrug. "That's kind of when everything went to shit for me. Literally everything changed in my life."

"M'sorry, Kait. I can't even imagine going through that."

"Don't apologize, please. You weren't even in my life at that point. I hate when people apologize for something that they weren't around for or can't control."

"This might sound weird, but I wish I had been in your life at that point," he says quietly. "I wish I could have done something to make you happy and to help you."

"It wouldn't have mattered. I would have pushed you away if you were around. That's what I did to all my other friends."

"Do you have any friends back home?"

"Not that I still talk to," I shrug. "I had friends in high school but I've only talked to them when I'm home, I never really text them or anything."

"Pretty much all my friends followed me here," he tells me. "I wasn't exactly the guy who had a ton of friends since I was such a dick."

"Maybe I should write a story about you," I hum. "No normal human pretends to be an ass to keep an image for this long. I genuinely don't understand how they don't see right through you."

"First of all, they're not you. Second of all, most times we're hanging out they're drinking and or smoking, so even if they do see it at some point, they don't remember it in the morning."

"That sounds really toxic, Harry," I look at him with concern. "That kind of friendship and relationship. You only hang out to smoke and drink?"

"It didn't really used to be that way, but lately it kind of seems like that. I know it seems bad, but I don't mind that much. I just sit there and watch them. Sometimes I'll drink with them, but I haven't since I started hanging out with you."

"Here's what confuses me," I start. "Liam doesn't seem like someone who does that either. Liam seems like a really great guy. Erin talks so fondly of him."

"Out of everyone, he's the one I would trust telling the truth to the most," he tells me in a quiet tone. "We've actually talked a little bit about how it's not as much fun to go out and drink like it used to be. Especially since you and Erin came into our lives."

I stand from my stool and step closer so I can wrap my arms around his shoulders. I kiss his temple and hug him tight. He smiles, his hands going up to rest on my arm.

"I'm glad we're a part of your lives," I mumble. "We should get back to work, though. This conversation is kinda depressing and I have half a paper to write."