High school friends Brooklyn Evans and Harry Styles were on the brink of discovering something life-changing for them both when Harry had to leave for his first assignment in the British army. Wedged apart by distance and time, each of them is force...
My stilettos cackled loudly against the cobbled pathway, its' straps tenderly pressing against the skin of my feet as I continued to run like a woman on a mission towards my destination. At the pace I was going, I actually considered it a miracle I haven't snapped anything yet and fervently hoped it would remain that way as I wanted to arrive in one piece.
It is quite foolish of me to forego changing to a decent pair of footwear at least. But obviously I am running very late and stopping by my dorm was already a luxury I can't afford. So I just grabbed whatever I had with me during Professor Camden's lecture, adding a few more purchases from here and there and boarded the soonest train ride travelling from London to Cheshire.
Stepping foot off the train, I was hit with feelings of melancholia and nostalgia, fueling my lingering doubts on my choice to pursue college. I determinedly pushed this aside, clearly this wasn't the time for second-guessing life-altering decisions.
Stares from bystanders left a burning feel on my skin, though, spending my entire childhood in this particular town, I know most of them meant no harm. If anything, I could almost picture their amused faces as they were able to determine the source of the obnoxious clacking sound.
"Brooklyn is that you?"
"The one and only, can't stop to chat though, sorry."
Whispers of my name followed me now as they figured out my identity, fading only after I rounded the corner. My ears even detected sounds of disbelief and awe which I think is quite uncalled for considering I've only been gone eight months or so. But that's the thing about Holmes Chapel, no one is unknown even though we're already banking on a population of six thousand give or take. The village is a bit small compared to the others in the rest of England but it is thriving. From an outsider's point of view, the simplicity could be quite striking, where the most thrilling news one could get would be an invite to an afternoon tea, which happens on a daily basis mind you.
So when word got out I was going to London to pursue a degree – it was probably among the top three scandals of the year, along with Mrs. Fredrick's lost cat and Mr. Oliver's 90th birthday.
I wonder then how Harry and his family are faring?
This thought reminds me of my agenda and it's like there are sparks in my vision as my eyes light up upon spotting the familiar driveway leading to the Styles' ranch surrounded by wide expanse of farmlands.
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I giddily hop onto their front steps and knock on their door, hearing some muffled sounds behind it before it's opened and am greeted with the lovely face of Anne. Her face is utter confusion for a second before I literally witness recognition pasting on her features and this one I understand as it has really been quite a while since I've visited.
"Sweetheart, hello!" she gushed as she welcomed me into an embrace despite the numerous parcels strung onto my arms and hands.
"Hello" was the only thing I am able to croak, cringing at the sound of my voice. Unlike Eleanor, I was only able to encounter Anne a few times. Yet in each time she managed to make it feel as if Styles was my last name too. Now, despite the time that has passed and me leaving to London without even any form of acknowledgement, the way she receives me proves nothing's changed.
