For Better or Worse - Harry Styles Fanfiction

F-I-V-E

The soft melody of my Twilight piano symphony alarm woke me in the most peaceful way possible, groaning I switched the alarm to snooze and dropped my head back into the goose feather pillow.

What felt like hours later, the same tune went off again; this time I decided to get up.

Crawling out my covers was the worst thing in the mornings, my feet which felt like lead was attached to them slid across the ground as I walked towards my fluffy white robe and wrapped it around my slender frame.

Mornings were always freezing in Dudley then by the end of the day you’d be sweating.

Over the past week, Harry and I grew fairly close all thanks to our many classes we were so conveniently placed together in.

Harry made me happy, all the time. My feelings for him were there, but it was still new waters; I wasn’t used to liking a boy.Definitely something I would have to consult Behati about later on.

Soft rattling of pans and cutlery was coming from downstairs, I trudged towards the sound to investigate.

A lady was standing in my kitchen, balancing pots and pans and other cooking utensils.

Her long frame rounding off nicely with her perfect curves that I wanted so bad, her thick brown hair cut into a professional bob.

My mother, the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Oh Mum.” I chuckled, taking some of the cooking pots from her and setting them down in their various homes. I managed to cook an entire hot breakfast in the time she even turned the stove on.

“I’m sorry Isla, I was trying to be one of those Mum’s that cook break fast every morning and make lunches.” she began to drag on about how she wanted to be a ‘cool’ mum.

“Mum, I love you and you know that. It doesn’t bother me that you’re not here, it’s for our benefit and we completely understand.” I gave her a warm daughter-cuddle and sat her down to eat.

“I’m only back for a day, then I’m away for the next three weeks.” she sighed, picking at her food.

I smiled apologetically and continued eating.

It was true, we weren’t bothered by our parents constantly leaving; if it was for our benefit then we were fine.

Three weeks wasn’t the longest they’d been away for, sometimes they would leave for months and the visits being only hours at a time.

Liam waltzed down stairs looking brighter than usual, pecked Mum on the head before exchanging comfortable small talk with each other.

Mum dropped us off at school shortly after, making sure she drew as much attention as possible to herself to let all the kids know she was a good Mum, which she was of course.

-

First class was Maths with Harry, we sat together at the back of the class room as usual and he taught me how to use some formulas correctly.

Maths was my worst subject, Harry happened to be amazing at it of course; he was perfect.

It was hard to concentrate when he was tutoring me, I’d crack a joke to which he would laugh and his hot strawberry breath washed over my face.

My eyes would consciously travel to his big lips, something Behati had taught me when trying to seduce a guy; not that I wanted to seduce Harry.

“I can’t believe you’ve never kissed a guy.” Harry chuckled, in a shocked way.

“No boys are that appealing, to me.” I shrugged, pursing my lips a little.

“You have very nice lips.” he mumbled whilst almost in a daze staring at my cherry lips, laughing to himself a little as he noticed my cheeks turn a ripe shade of scarlet.

“Have you ever… you know?” I bit my lip and avoided eye contact with him while twirling my pencil around the blue lined paper.

“Had sex?” he almost yelled, cheekily emphasising the ‘sex’ rewarding us in confused glares from all the students.

I held back an unattractive laugh a hit his arm softly.

“It wasn’t great.” he admitted, scrunching his face up at the memory.

I left the subject at that and continued writing down the given instructions on the white board.

My hand soon began to ache from the constant tension in my hand after gripping the pen for so long, I vigorously shook it about which almost immediately caught Harry’s attention.

He furrowed his eyebrows together and bit the corner of his lip. He reached out and took my hand, not mumbling a word to me, he began massaging it on all the curvatures in which it was painful.

Before long he stopped massaging them, he started subconsciously tracing shapes with his rough, calloused fingers around all the crevices and small childhood scars on my hands; inspecting each one carefully.

Harry offered me a small comforting smile, to which I returned with a thankful one. The aches in my hands were gone, leaving me with my stomach doing flips.

We talked for the rest of the lesson, telling stories about all the scars we’d received from being stupid when we were little. Harry was genuine, all the time. That’s what drew me to him so much, he would be a shoulder to cry on and a friend to laugh with. I prayed that my feelings wouldn’t get in the way of what could be the best of friendships.

-

Weeks later; almost half way through the term, girls were throwing themselves at Harry even more so than the day school started, he still declined them using the excuse that ‘there’s someone else.’ Jealously panged through me, wondering who the lucky ‘someone else’ was.

We’d managed to grow closer in the short time, spending almost every waking minute together. I would never get tired of him and surprisingly enough he wasn’t tired of me either.

We could do anything together, from sitting at home to going to theme parks just for the run of it. He’d even come to a couple of my dance lessons much to Behati’s delight, she told me if I didn’t ‘go for that piece of sex’ soon, she would pounce right on him.

Harry and I had already claimed the best friends title, it was true though despite the short amount of time I’d known him, Harry was someone I could call best friend. He gladly returned the gesture, even giving me cheesy pet names such as ‘bestie’ and serenaded me in the hall ways with Justin Bieber’s ‘Favourite Girl.’

It was all fun and games though, I wasn’t his favourite girl.