Divided. (Harry Styles)

/15/

I was left a little stunned and hesitant from the previous conversation I'd had in the Labour Room. I had more than willingly agreed to take part in their rebellion, but something seemed a little odd. Not odd enough to stop me though and I was still going to ask Harry to help. It was odd that I trusted him enough to do so but I did, despite the metaphorical divide between us.

"All back today I assume?" Harry asked from his desk as I stumbled back into the office.

"Yes. A little bruised and battered though," I muttered. Harry sighed in response at my statement and as I dropped on to the sofa at the window, he apologised once again.

"You know I only told them because I had to," he assured.

"I know Harry. It isn't your fault." I genuinely smiled at him. He seemed pleased at my response, standing up and walking to sit beside me.

He sat close enough so that our knees brushed against each other and brought his hand to meet mine that had been in my lap. Subtly, he rubbed his thumb soothingly along the skin of my fingers.

"You were down there a while," he noted aloud. I shuffled a little awkwardly, inhaling a sharp breath, nervous for the conversation that was to come.

"Yeah," I began. "About that, I need to talk to you." He seemed to be a little taken aback at the seriousness of my tone and words alike, so shifted his body to face me.

""What's wrong?", he seemed concerned.

"Nothing's wrong." I smiled.

"Good," he smiled. "What is it then?"

"I was speaking to some of the girls down there and trying to find out why they were absent," I spoke, my tone slow and anxious.

"And? Did you find anything out?" he asked, and noticing my hesitation carried on, "Don't worry I won't tell this time."

"Harry I-" I stammered a little, maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

"Come on. It's just me, you can tell me," he spoke. His grip on my hand tightened as he squeezed it comfortingly.

I sighed, giving in. "They're planning a rebellion."

His face fell as he looked at me blankly. "What?"

"That's why they weren't in. They tried to rebel by doing it like a strike but it didn't work," I explained further.

"Are you serious?" he seethed. His anger was evident now, god knows how the hell I was supposed to get him to help?

I nodded in confirmation. "Why did they tell you? Do they want you to help?" he spoke as if in realisation, his hand dropping from mine.

"Yes," I answered timidly.

"Well, I hope you said no."

My silence, however, was enough answer for him as he looked at me in disbelief that I actually agreed to rebel.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" he asked, standing up. He began to walk frantically around the office, tugging on his hair in stress.

"Because I want to Harry! I hate everything about this place. I hate everything about this stupid divide, we want London to go back to how it was before. Surely you understand that?"

He stopped and leant over his desk, breathing heavily as he peered at me. "I guess."

I was annoyed at this response for I knew he hated it too. I chose to ignore the comment however, before I made my sudden request. "We want you to help."