flower. h.s ✔️

nineteen.

I didn't even have to bring up Oliver coming to stay with us. Harry already knew.

My Father had let Harry know and I only found out that Harry knew because he mentioned it this afternoon. Less than twelve hours before Oliver was due to arrive and all he said was 'this prick better not be annoying'.

It was typical Harry and it had almost made me laugh. In fact he'd made me almost laugh several times over the weekend, somehow what had happened on Thursday had changed our dynamic.

I wasn't sure how, or if I was reading too much into it, I mean I definitely was, but Harry didn't really leave me alone over the weekend. It was like he knew that I was struggling. Not that I'd even told him anything about it.

He just knew.

What I didn't know what that Harry was staying up to meet Oliver when he got here, which if my calculations were correct, Oliver Hamwell should be walking through my front door any time within the next half an hour.

I hadn't planned to stay up, I mean who the fuck gets a flight that lands at one in the morning anyway? But here I was.

Sitting crouched on the top stair like a gremlin, my arms wrapped around my legs as I tried not to let my heart beat its way out of my chest or throw up considering my throat felt tight and my stomach was churning.

For God's sake I hadn't even seen the guy yet!

In fact I hadn't seen the guy in three years, maybe he was different. Maybe he wasn't anything like the guy I knew when I was teenager. I'm sure I've changed.

And well that was the thing, if he's changed then maybe him and Harry would get on and be friends and there was no other thought in the world that filled me with more dread than that idea. Except maybe if Oliver tells Harry what happened with us.

Or what if Oliver hadn't changed and he's still that horrible obnoxious twat I knew when we were younger and Harry still liked him? That would most definitely make me bring up the contents of my stomach.

I jumped as I was jerked out of my thoughts as the sound of the doorbell rang throughout the house and I paled, leaning forward ever so slightly as the top of Harry's head came into view as he wandered casually through the foyer.

I heard the sound of the door open and then nothing, and I frowned. Were they not speaking? Or were the two of them speaking quietly?

I jumped again as the door was slammed shut and I shifted slightly in an attempt to see Harry, I really hoped he didn't like Oliver.

"Styles, yeah?"

Bile rose in my throat as Oliver's voice reached my ears and I could imagine Harry's short and stiff nod.

"Oliver. Friend of Max's, but I suppose a drug dealer doesn't get to play with the big boys very often." Oliver continued and I frowned.

He was still the same.

"I try not to associate with stuck up suits." Harry drawled and I sucked my teeth as silence covered the house once more.

"Where's Poppy?"

My heart dropped into my stomach and I had to force myself not to bring up any of the burning bile in my throat.

"Asleep." Harry replied curtly.

I didn't hear anything else after that as I sat there until the sound of footsteps and I caught sight of Harry's long black covered leg on the first step and my eyes widened as I realised they were coming up here.