The Jacket

*Hetties POV*

I wake up to the same old noise of construction next door. I really should have chosen a different flat. This one just seemed so perfect, though...the nearly all white interior splashed with small fragments of color throughout the great room, granite countertops and stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, master bedroom with mahogany wood floors and an en sweep bathroom, two guest bedrooms, an office, and a flat screen TV perfectly placed next to the glass window panes that over look the glowing city of Leeds each night as I watch endless episodes of X-Factor. It even came fully furnished. How could I say no? Although a little pricey, I have been saving my whole life to live in a place like this. No way in hell am I going to let some construction ruin this for me. I came all the way from Maine to live my dream. This is just one minor set back that won't even last a year...if I'm lucky.

Oh my god, I have to pee really really badly.

I crawl from under my plush duvet, and hang my feet over the edge of my queen sized bed. The warmth of my 8 hour slumber is quickly stolen from me, and released into the brisk morning air.

"Shit. Did I really leave that window open again?" I silently punish myself for continuing to leave the damn window open every night. The heating bill continually rises.

I stand up, shut the window, and walk over to the thermostat cranking it up to a toasty 80 degrees. My mother would kill, um, get angry at me for turning up the heat so high. Memories of my mother flood my mind, and I shake my head temporarily erasing all thoughts of her.

I shuffle into the kitchen, and open the fridge. Pulling out the eggs, cheese, ham, and milk, I remember that I still haven't gone to the bathroom yet. I drop all of the items onto the counter and rush into the bathroom. After relieving my self, I flush and look into the mirror. It literally looks like I am death itself. My hair looks like a rat has made a nest out of it, and the bags under my eyes clearly show that's its finals week at Uni. I don't even bother trying to deal with my appearance right now. I wander back into the kitchen, and make myself an omlette. Once I finish eating, and clean up the mess I have made, I make a list if things to grab at the store while I'm out today before I even begin to try and make myself look presentable.

1. Toilet paper

2. AA Batteries

3. Milk

4. Bread

5. Laundry detergent

6. Sweedish Fish

I keep forgetting to put a winter coat on there. I'm always freezing walking around campus.

7. WINTER COAT *DO NOT FORGET OR YOU WILL DIE OF HYPOTHERMIA*

I put the list into my bag, and head back into the bathroom to try and tackle my massive hair problem. Why can't I just be like those girls in movies and fanfics that wake up, do their hair and makeup easily, and can walk right out the door feeling confident as always? It's really not fair. I brush out my hair and straighten it. I only put on concealer and powder, I won't be seeing anyone I know today, anyways. I brush my teeth, walk into my closet, and pick out my outfit. I decide to go with my gray Leeds University sweatshirt, and my dark wash skinny jeans. No need to look good today.

It's only a short walk into the towns center, so I slip on my boots, grab my bag, phone, and keys, and slip out of the door. I get onto the elevator and press the lobby button. Just as the door is about to close, a familiar hand is stuck between the two doors. My asshole neighbor, Ryan. Tattoos cover his tanned skin, and I cringe at the pictures of ink consuming his body.

"Aye babe, where are you going? A little too cold out for you to be leaving the building, yeah?" he smirks at the look of disgust on my face.

"Just going to the store, Ryan. Please stop talking to me. You know that we don't get along. Leave it alone," I harshly plead.

"Only trying to have a conversation here, Het. No need to get your panties all in a bunch." His thick British accent intrudes my ears, and I can't stop the chills that snake down my spine. I can still remember the day he came to my door, bringing his drunken buddies with him. I had just moved in, and he thought it would be fun to continuously bang on my door that night until I was forced to call the police. When I came out of my flat, the hallway was littered with beer cans.

"Don't call me Het, and don't try to start a conversation," I spit.

He raises his hands in defeat. I smirk, facing the doors once more.

After what seems to be an eternity, I exit the elevator and walk out into the lobby, through the doors, and onto the sidewalk. I am greeted by a cold breeze, and snow falling down from the grey sky. When I reach the town, I stop dead in my tracks.

Girls. Hundreds of them. Flashes everywhere, and I have no idea why. That's when I see them. The bright green eyes. My heart stops, and I can't breathe. His eyes, they lock onto mine, and all I'm getting is a plead for help. I can't. I can't to this right now. There's no way I can even get to him, and even if I did, I don't want to go back to being obsessed with someone that I can't have. I feel terrible for leaving him there surrounded by so many people, but there's nothing I can or want to do to help. I cross the street, heading towards the mob, but I don't join in. Instead, I duck into a small thrift shop. I need a moment to calm down. My whole life as a teenager was dedicated to Harry Styles. Like THE Harry Styles that was just staring into my eyes. I push my long blond hair out of my face, and shake it off. No. I cannot go back to having a hopeless crush on him again. It's not worth it. He probably had a girlfriend by now. He's been off the radar for years, so no one ever hears of him or who he's been with. He doesn't even have security anymore. Looks like that might need to be rethought.

I snap out of my thoughts, and remember why I came into town. A coat. I need a coat. I begin scanning the racks, and try on a few things. I still hear the screaming outside, and the butterfly's are back. He's just right out there. Go, Het, go. Go see him, touch him, hell, go scream like the rest of them. You deserve to. No. Harry doesn't deserve it. He needs privacy. He needs space. I can't believe I have the chance, but I'm not going for it. That's when a door right next to me opens, a door that I hadn't noticed before. A back door that must be used for emergencies only. The door closes, and I'm standing face to face with Harry Styles.

I whisper, "holy shit."

This is the first chapter :) sorry if it's short...I've never written a fanfic before. I hate when the author writes a huge long thing at the bottom, so I won't.

Hope you like the story so far!

Rachel