Storms {z.m.}

Chapter 39

Chapter 39 – Christine

“Hold on, love,” I hear him say from behind me. I wish the voice saying those words was soft and silky, but instead it’s raspy and low. Harry’s footsteps come closer and closer to me as I’m walking across the grass to my front door. Why is he following me?

If I wasn’t so distraught about everything I ever wanted in life going up in flames before my very eyes just minutes before I would probably be spazzing out over the fact that Harry Styles is following me home and calling me “love,” but right now that’s the last thing I want.

Before I reach my front steps I feel a thin hand grab me by the shoulder tenderly and I freeze. He steps in front of me and in the light of my porch I can finally see him clearly.

He’s clearly in disguise: he’s wearing tight black jeans with short black boots, a black sweater with a wide neck, and to top off the incognito attire, a black beanie. His Curly hair is hanging almost to his shoulders in a way I’ve never seen before, but suits him incredibly well. I’m awfully cool about the whole ordeal until I look into his eyes. When my brain digests that his green eyes are staring right into mine with a concern never before shown to me by a complete stranger, my heart starts to pound uncontrollably. His mouth is pursed in a worried and serious manner that I don’t know how to decipher.

“How’re you doing? You alright?” he asks me with his hand still on my shoulder. I look down at it in shock as I realize that Harry Styles is asking me a question and is genuinely concerned about me right now. Is this real life?

I must have zoned out into a star struck stupor because he asks me the same thing again. Instead of answering the typical “I’m good, thanks,” I really think about the question. Sure, I’m mildly freaking out because I’m talking to one of my favorite singers, and my heart is beating like crazy, but it doesn’t feel right. It’s as if my heart only runs half as fast for anyone who isn’t Zayn. He makes my heart beat faster and pump harder than anyone ever could. And I’ve lost him forever. My heart will always be working at half capacity without him.

“No.”

“I guess that was a stupid question. You’re obviously not okay,” Harry says breaking out of his serious mood. He cracks and a smile and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up: he’s really something to watch. His eyes glimmer like a Japanese cartoon when he laughs, and his lips spread so wide you think his cheeks will disappear, but they don’t. The pictures really don’t do him justice.

Through all the horrible memories that keep running through my head from just minutes ago, Harry’s genuine smile pierces through and manages to make me smile through my tears.

“Sorry, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I’m Harry,” he says taking his hand off my shoulder and extending it back at me. I put my hand out and am struck by how much bigger his hand is than mine.

“I’m Christine,” I say back as coolly as I can manage. Strangely enough I’m starting to feel at ease with Harry. I always figured if I met someone famous I would be babbling like an idiot, but right now I just don’t have the energy to babble and Harry isn’t intimidating at all. I almost feel as if we’d been friends for a while.