26 Letters ( A Harry Styles AU )

D stands for Dog

It's me again! This chapter ending up going in a completely different direction than I had planned, but I like it! Not much more to say, other than I hope you enjoy it! As usual, comment, vote, fan, whatever floats your boat!

~Cat xx

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D stands for dog

Harry whistles loudly into the yard and claps his hands twice. Morning dew manages to completely soak his socks as he walks out a few more feet into the green expanse. It was an exceptionally foggy spring morning, and the gray above Harry's head reflects his seemingly permanent mood. It had been two months to the day that she'd been gone.

 A patch of gold comes running around the corner of the small house, tongue hanging out and paws wet with dew, quite similar to Harry's socks at the moment.

“Here girl.” Harry whispers softly to the dog.

Backing up, he sits on the edge of the porch and the dog follows like a magnet. Ever since that glorious day when she came home from work, holding the puppy, Harry and it had become inseparable.

“My friend was getting rid of her.” She mumbled as the two of them stood with the half-asleep fur ball between them. Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders, careful not to disturb the dog, and leaned in to press a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Let's call her Lily.” Harry said, somewhat uncertainly, knowing the reaction he could cause.

A look of recognition and sadness spreads across her face at the name, but she nodded, and held back tears that threaten to fall.

Lily notices Harry staring off into space and lets out a small whimper, nudging his knee with her nose. Harry pulls out of his trance, looking down into the dog's eyes and for a moment he swears he can see the slightest bit of sadness in them. But then again, it could have just been his own reflection.

 An hour later, the fog has lifted and Harry is standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Oh goddamn it Harry eat something!”

 His step-father's voice from the previous night rings in his head. His mother had insisted that he come over for dinner at least once a week, and he absolutely despised those evenings. They were filled with mostly one-sided conversations that consisted of absolutely meaningless words. Because nobody wanted to talk about the real issue, why Harry wasn't Harry anymore. His mother would give up on it eventually and go to set the table, bringing out the food, Harry helped. It wasn't as if he disliked his mother, he just disliked the pressure of having to talk when he didn't want to. The point here though, is that Harry didn't want to eat that night, and besides, he'd already eaten two meals today (one consisting of a banana, cereal, and a glass of juice, and the other of a ham sandwich and a beer. That was better than Harry had eaten in weeks). Of course, Harry's step-father, did not approve of the lack of food the boy was eating and proceeded to call him out on it. Accusing him of being anorexic and weak minded. Harry left from his parent's house early that night, and as he slipped out the door he heard a slap and yelling coming from his mother's mouth.

Oh goddamn it Harry, eat something...

 He begs himself.

 Just get a bowl of cereal and eat it. It's not that hard. It's just food, you're supposed to eat food. She has nothing to do with how much food you eat. So come on, just, fucking, eat, something.

Harry talks aloud to himself as he gets himself a mediocre breakfast of cereal and some old tasting orange juice. Lily sits on the floor with her head cocked, observing the odd boy. Humming a tune that is strangely familiar but at the same time utterly foreign he seats himself back on the floor of the porch, a slight morning chill barely seeping under his jumper.

 The screen door is pushed open and closes with a definitive smack causing Harry to jump, a bit of milk sloshing widely out of the bowl and landing on the wooden floor beneath him.

 His nerves calm when he sees it's only Lily that has shoved open the door, and he hums a greeting to her, “Hello girl.” The dog comes over to him and promptly licks his cheek, and Harry chuckles. He stops in shock, that was the first time he'd come anywhere close to laughing in, months. But the grin slips off his face just as quickly as it got there. 

 Lily crawls into Harry's lap despite her size, retrievers aren't really meant to be lap dogs, and curls up, half on his legs and half off. Harry rubs the soft fur behind Lily's ear and finishes his breakfast. With his palms rested on the porch behind him Harry leans his head back and breathes in the fresh morning air, Lily stirs in his lap before letting out a huff of breath. 

 Harry enjoys the brief moment of happiness while he can, knowing that even the slightest things can trigger his emotions, making him spiral out of control.