Winter [Harry Styles AU]

ten

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winter // ten

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Lena wakes up with a terrible hangover, shitty memories, and an email from her mother.

She isn't sure which is the worst part.

Careful not to wake the sleeping boy attached to her side like a koala, she taps open the message in her inbox from her mom. Of course, it's from her mother's work address, and, of course, it's typed out like Lena is another client that she has to deal with and not, you know, her own flesh and blood.

Lena, it reads. I will be on a business trip in LA during the week of your fall break. Furthermore, your father will be giving a seminar in ATL for a few days before flying out to join me. We are unable to reschedule. However, I am paying Beth to stay with you for the week. Your plane ticket is attached. I also put more money in your bank account - just in case.

Sarah Lawrence, CEO of Holland Reality

There's another email underneath that one, from Beth. Hey, Sweetie. Just got your parent's schedules. I'd be more than happy to stay with you over the break and celebrate Thanksgiving with you. Don't think too much about it. I love you and miss you more than you know!! - Beth

Lena places her phone gently on the ground, closes her eyes, and tries to calm down. Even though it's not surprising (it's almost expected, really), there's still this bitter feeling that she can't quite seem to swallow down past the lump in her throat.

The only thing that makes it bearable is the fact that Beth will stay with her in the empty house. Beth is really the only thing that's ever made being in that house bearable. Lena doesn't reply to her mother, just taps out a quick message back to the nanny who raised her from ages five until seventeen:

Hi Beth! That sounds perfect. Can't wait to see you. I've got a ton of presents, don't worry. I love you too! Love you more than you love me. xox - Lena

"Why are you awake?" Harry groans, pressing his cold nose against her shoulder and, right. Harry's here. He smells like spicy perfume that Lena definitely does not own. "Go back to sleep, silly."

Her mouth is dry. "I'm going to get water."

He sighs softly. "Bring me some?"

"Yeah." Lena slips out from his grasp and stands, bracing herself against the cold. Somehow, one of his sweaters is on her head and a pair of his boxers sits low on her hips. The clothes she had on last night are folded neatly in a pile on the ground next to the bed, lion ears on top.

Which. Okay. Harry's seen her shirtless and he's slipped his hand under her sweater more times than she can count, but the fact that last night he fucking had to dress her like she is an incompetent child is more than she wants to think about.

Careful to avoid the creaking floorboards in the hallway, Lena tiptoes towards the kitchen. Liam is sitting at the table, sipping probably tea out of a cracked white mug and flipping through a textbook. "She lives," he whispers as she enters. "It's still not 9 AM. Don't make a lot of noise."

"Right, got it." She nods solemnly. "A very serious Peace Treaty and all that."

"Don't be sarcastic. It's real. It's even hanging on the side of the refrigerator. That's how you know it's important."

She glances at the side of the appliance that's not covered in pictures. Sure enough, there's a contract written in purple crayon on an old receipt. "'Don't be fucking loud before 9 AM or else Zayn goes into origami mode and we hide all your shoes and you probably die probably'," she reads aloud.