Beautifully Flawed | Harry Styles [One Direction]

Chapter 11

‘I think fame is going to ruin me.’ I repeated Harry’s words in my mind. I paused a moment to think of what I could say to him. That one had been such a crude statement and if I knew a bit more about him, maybe I would have known exactly what he was talking about. I didn’t really know what could have possibly happened to him so he would say that – I didn’t know him well enough; I could only imagine. Rumours, maybe, was what he was referring to. But what kind of rumours was he talking about anyway?

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked and he just shook his head, letting me know that he didn’t want to expand on his thoughts. “Okay, don’t worry.”

A loud silence filled the car. I looked at Harry first and then out of the window. We remained like that for a few minutes until he asked me my exact address so he could drop me off. I told him where I lived and we started making small talk as I tried to avoid thinking of all that had been going on lately.

Eventually, I would have to process the fact that James had got divorced, I had to sort out my thoughts and be convinced that what I’d told Lara, that I didn’t love him anymore, was true. I needed to make sure that it was definitely over. I knew that I shouldn’t still love him, not after everything he had done.

“This one, right?” Harry asked when we came to a roundabout.

“Yeah, first turn to the left.” I replied and sighed. It had been some time I had been last driven home by a man. Or by James, I should say.

My mind jolted back to one of the last conversations we had as he drove me home after work, days before he would leave for France. He had insisted on taking me to work with him at the Paris branch. He was only offering me a position in his office, nothing else. I needed something more from him; I needed him to get the divorce, I needed to have him all for myself, to stop hiding. We had been sneaking for too long, pretending we didn’t have any other type of relationship except from being colleagues. And during all that time, not even once had James opened up again to me about his marriage; not even once had he hinted he was ready to leave his wife. Why had I still stuck around?

“Leah,” Harry’s voice called my attention and I turned to look at him. “What’s--- what’s wrong?” he frowned. “Are you crying?”

Crying? I creased my brow and ran my hand over my cheek, wiping it dry. “Oh, shoot,” I said and went through my bag to find some tissues. “I was just… remembering bad stuff.” I quickly glanced at my reflection in the sun visor mirror, adjusting myself. “And thinking how stupid I was…”

“Do you want to--- Can I help in any way?” he asked sympathetically.

“We’re not at that stage yet, no.” I smiled weakly. “And I don’t want to scare you.”

“Why would you scare me?” Harry chuckled.

“Because I can be a mess sometimes, but I promise I’m working on it.” I said sincerely. There was nothing else in the world I wanted more at the time. I needed to feel better; I needed to leave all the pain behind. “I promise I will tell you about it one day.”

“Whenever you’re ready, babe,” he threw me a quick smile. “I will tell you about my worries, too. One day.” He stated seriously and reached out with his hand for mine. I gently squeezed it when our fingers linked and placed my left hand on top of his.

“I’d just like you to--- since you said that you wanted to help?” I started off nervously. “Maybe you could just--- you know, stick around… that would help a bit. Or a lot.” I added softly. “Maybe.” I uttered. “If you want…”

With the corner of my eye I saw him smile. “Of course,” he said and took my hand to his lips and kissed my palm. “I’d love to stick around.”