"Home sweet home," I agitatedly sigh. I didn't want to be here. At all. All it did was remind me of the lies they might be telling me. My aunt and uncle were nowhere to be seen, which made the homecoming a little bit better. I haven't totally decided whether or not I want to be mad at them. They are hiding something huge from me. And for what? A little bit of money? It's quite enraging.
The ride home was a lot better than I'd expected it to be. It was full of singing and laughing. We stopped at a couple of roadside attractions along the way. One of them was this unusually large pig made of corn. Only Nebraska would have this.
At every stop, Harry pulled this polaroid-type camera from his bag and snapped a picture of the two of us. He did that often. Pictures were the best way to keep memories. I always asked him for one, but he kept them to himself. I would have to get my own camera and sneak some of him. My room was in dire need of brightening anyways and what better way to do it than hang pictures of the people I love.
Soon enough, Harry and I were both curled up on the couch enjoying the silence that the day brought us. His head laid in my lap and his feet hung from the end of the couch. I tousled my fingers through his curls. That was one of my favorite things to do and I know he didn't mind it either. His hair was always so soft and well-kept. It was satisfying to play with. Since it was getting longer, I could even start to braid a little bit of it, though I was terrible at braiding hair. He let me do it nonetheless. He could care less if his hair was braided or all made up into a cute masterpiece, none of which I could achieve. His magnificent evergreen eyes started up at me and acted as if they were looking at the sun.
The trip I took with him was fun and we'd definitely have to do it more often. Getting away from reality was what we both needed. Harry tried to stay away from home, for reasons you can assume. I helped him with that quite often. I still felt guilty for keeping him from his mother, though she worked a lot. Every story he told about her, made me love her even more. I hadn't even met the woman. From what I've imagined, she looks a lot like Gemma. Maybe brown hair. She'd probably have the warmest smile too. All of the good traits from her kids would've come from her. Harry and Gemma seem to adore their mother with all they have.
It's never affected me. The never having a mother part, that is. My dad was like a super dad. He was both mom and dad, for whatever gender-roles apply. Anything you'd need a mother for, my dad could do it one hundred times better. We had our differences, obviously, but he was my best friend. Talking to him was more comfortable than it was to even think about talking to my old friends or boyfriend. Though, I could talk to a stranger easier than I could them.
They never seemed to care about me or my feelings. I think they only hung out with me because I was dating Charlie. I had no friends before that. Well, I had friends, acquaintances more like. Back then, I didn't see a need for friends because I had my dad. Other people would just get in the way of me achieving what I wanted in my future.
Being with Harry has since disproved that. Instead, he's only pushed me to go for what I wanted. My other friends did too, don't get me wrong, but something about Harry's dedication to me getting what I want makes all of the loneliness worth it. Having him with me makes everything I've been through worth it.
"I know you don't want to talk about it, but we need to. What are you going to do about this whole Jackson thing? Are we going to keep letting him mess with us or are we going to figure this out?" Harry asked, out of the blue. My face contorted. I was taken aback by his sudden questioning.
The topic of conversation was one that I'd prefer didn't come up. Even though it had to be brought up at some time, today was supposed to be relaxing. And this was just starting my anxiety up all over again, "I want to figure it out, I really do," I sighed, "Uncle John has filing cabinets in his shed. He might have some papers in there. If we go look, promise me that we can chill later."
YOU ARE READING
1985 (h.s.)
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] After getting over his initial facade I felt as if I was getting to know the real Harry Styles. I learned the little things about him like how he likes his bread toasted golden brown or that he always has to eat his salads with a certain...
