Holding On (A Harry Styles Love Story)

This love is Ours.

"Do you like my shirt?" He pointed to the ridiculousness of the shirt with the striped pineapples on it.

I bit my lip to hide my laughter, not knowing if he was serious or not. "...Honestly?" I snickerd, to which he nodded enthusiastically.

"That's the ugliest shirt I've ever seen." I shrugged with an innocent smile and a laugh. "Sorry."

His jaw dropped in mock disappointment and hurt. "Wha... What?" he pouts his lip like a puppy dog and I see a slight glisten in his eyes. " I bought this for you..."

At this point I know he's not serious, and I play along. I groan. "Harrrrry. Ugh, do you really thing I'd like that? I actually know what style is. Who do you think I am?" I roll my eyes.

His eyebrows scrunch together as he sticks his tounge out. "You're sassier than Lou. I'm not sure I like it."

I gasp at his words. "Sassier than Louis? You of all people should know that's not humanly possible."

"I heard that!" A voice called from a body that was coming up behind Harry. A body that belongs to none other than Louis Tomlinson.

"Hey Louis!" I smiled at him before his face showed up on my computer screen.

"Hello!" He appears in the camera, his face much too close to the screen. His nose looks huge.

"How are you?" a question with a laugh directed at the Doncaster boy.

"I'm good-" Harry interrupted him with a shove.

"Louis leave! I'm talking." he pushed Louis out from in view of the camera, and I barely see the brunette stumble behind Harry's chair. "Whatever. Bye Char!"

"Bye Louis!" I wave with a grin, before scolding Harry. "You're so rude."

"I'm sorry, babe." he leans in and kissed his camera, his lips huge and apparent on my computer screen.

I ignore the butterflies in my stomach while he...almost...kisses me. "Whatever, go apologize to Lou."

"LOUIS IM SORRY." He called over his shoulder loudly, cupping a hand around his mouth to make himself louder.

"It's ok, Haz, I know you're in love." Louis calls from the back although I couldn't see him.

Harry turns back to the camera with a smile as big as the Cheshire cat's, and I laugh.

And that was one of our many skype dates. Summer played out quite well; Harry and I Skyped almost every night, except for the night of their concerts. He would normally want to Skype me after their concert, at about 1 am, but I wouldn't let him do that often, since I knew he needed his sleep.

Every time we skyped, we got to know each other better. We could talk about anything at all. Stupid little things, like the dog we were going to adopt together, or even the brand of macaroni that we buy. He was so easy to talk to that it was okay to be completely myself with him, and I was thankful for that.

On the other hand, we could talk for hours about things weighing on our hearts, such as my father leaving or Harry missing his family. We would share confessions and tell each other stories from our childhood, our best memories, biggest regrets, and everything in between. We got to the point where we could tell each other anything and everything, like we were best friends.

Except we were best friends falling in love.

With every moment we spend together, our bond grew stronger. But I also missed him more and more everyday. I genuinely was thankful for every Skype date and every time I got to hear his voice, but I began to miss his presence. His warmth, his comfort.