Golden

12

I stumbled out of the back exit of the bar, throwing my head back and laughing loudly. I crashed into Harry's side as his hands extended out and pulled me into him. He wrapped his arm around my waist as I snaked my own around his back. He was warm and his body against mine was so inviting.
"Frank! Frank! Over here!" Harry called out, raising his free hand in the air, waving to get his driver's attention.
To my surprise, the owner of the bar kept the place open for just us long past closing time and last call. And after one too many shots of tequila over the course of several hours, Harry casually mentioned that he could have his driver pick us up.
"You have a driver?" I asked as Harry offered me his hand to help me to my unsteady feet out of the booth. "Like someone whose actual job is to bring you to and from places when you call them?"
"Yeah, is that weird?" Harry ducked his head down out of pure habit despite the bar being empty as we made our way to the door.
"A bit," I admitted with a shrug. "I've never known anyone with a driver before. We usually uber or taxi or take the subway."
"Well I usually prefer to drive places myself, but you were basically pouring tequila down my throat all night." Harry nudged me playfully. "So this way is much safer I think."
I laughed in agreement, glancing up at him and elbowing him back in the ribs. I felt like I was floating.
"Thanks again, Paul! See you when I'm back on the East Coast!" Harry shouted to the owner, who was sitting on a stool at the bar taking inventory of the night. He waved us goodnight, probably very thankful Harry left an extremely generous tip.
With Harry's hand in mine, I took one last look at his framed photo on the wall before he opened the door for us and we disappeared down the dark hallway and out into the night.
Harry's driver, Frank, was an utterly massive man, who could have easily doubled as a security guard. He stood a good foot taller than me and was triple my weight with arms the size of tree trunks. He silently opened the door for us as we climbed into the backseat of a black Escalade.
"Uh, Brooklyn please," I said slowly as Frank hopped into the driver's seat and buckled himself without a word. "Williamsburg."
"I like Williamsburg," Harry noted, nestling into my side. I noticed he took the middle seat directly next to me instead of opting for a window seat. "I like the Music Hall. I run near there sometimes."
"We've probably passed each other." It was a definite possibility. I smirked just imagining Harry and I running past each other without ever knowing it.
"You run?" Harry cranked his neck to look at me, seeming excited.
I nodded. "You saw a glimpse of it last night, remember?"
Harry smirked. "I was going to tell you that we should run together sometime, but it seems like you're much faster than me." He laughed. "I'll train when I'm in California, so when I come back, I'll be prepared."
I smiled back, but inwardly groaned. I didn't want to think about him leaving. It was so soon.
I watched the street lights out the window in a trance like state; the shifting colors nearly lulling me to sleep. It had just started raining and the delicate water droplets pitter pattered softly against the windshield. My heavy eyelids dropped and my head tilted to one side, resting comfortably against Harry's shoulder.
Before I knew it, I was being gently shaken awake. I straightened up, taking a moment before my sight readjusted.
"Hey, Lucy, we're here."
I blinked into the darkness, looking up at Harry's bright green eyes peering down at me. I lifted my head off his arm, feeling a sudden chill now that our bodies were separated. The clock ahead of us on the dash read 3:46am
"Thank you, Frank," I said to the driver in front as he simply waved in reply without turning around. I unbuckled myself, willing for time to slow down, but knowing it was impossible.
"Thanks for tonight," I told Harry softly as my hand reached out and grabbed the door handle. "I...I hope you have a safe flight tomorrow."
Harry silently nodded, looking like he was holding back from saying something. I knew he was. We both were.
I felt my chest constrict. I tried to exhale, but my lungs weren't working. "So..." I forced myself to keep it together. "This is goodbye."
It doesn't have to be, I thought to myself urgently. I was practically screaming inside my head.
"Well hopefully I'll see you next time you're in New York," I went on quietly, wondering when exactly that would be but not wanting to ask. I knew writing and recording could take a long time and I didn't want to be counting down for a date that might be prolonged or stretched out. That would surely drive me crazy.
I sighed, opening the car door and sticking one leg out. "Well, have a good-"
"Invite me up."
My jaw dropped slightly as I spun back around, still halfway out of the car, definitely thinking I had misheard him. "What?" I leaned in closer.
"Please." Harry's eyes flashed with intense desperation. "Please...invite me up."
I knew I was drunk, but I was fairly positive that I wasn't hearing things. I stared at him for a moment, keeping my gaze locked on his and praying that I wasn't making this whole thing up in my head.
"Do you want to come up?"
The question wasn't even fully off my lips before Harry was firmly saying, "Yes."
"Okay." I could hardly breathe.
Harry reached forward and patted Frank on the shoulder in appreciation. "Thanks, Frank. I'll be in touch tomorrow about getting my car and to the airport."
Frank nodded. "Have a good night, sir."
"You too, Frank. Tell Theresa and Brianna and Thomas that I said hello and send my best to all of them," Harry told him, evidently referencing Frank's wife and kids. "Tell Theresa I'm sorry I made you come out so late."
"She said as long as you're safe, it doesn't matter what hour it is," Frank replied in a low voice. "You know she's got a soft spot for you."
"Well I appreciate you and I appreciate her patience with me. She's an angel." Harry gripped Frank's shoulder again. "Please tell her that for me."
"Yes sir."
Harry hopped out of the car with a renewed spring in his step. He swung the door shut and we watched as Frank slowly drove off, leaving us alone on the sidewalk.
"Shall we?" Harry asked, offering me his arm.
"We shall." I pulled my apartment keys out of my purse as I looped my arms through Harry's. We entered my building and I was thankful it was deserted. I wasn't sure exactly what I would do if one of my neighbors saw me bringing Harry Styles up to my place at 4 in the morning.
We walked to the empty elevator and I pressed 13. Harry smirked. "Oh, lucky 13."
"It's been good to me so far." The doors closed as Harry inched closer to me; our arms brushing against each other as he swayed on his feet.
"Have you been here long?" He glanced down at me as I kept my eyes forward, feeling his gaze electrify my senses.
My heart picked up pace as the elevator shook to life, sending us upward. "I actually just moved in last week."
"Ah, a brand new place." Harry seemed excited for me, smiling. "New beginnings."
I didn't tell him the real reason I had moved. I didn't want him to know that I had abandoned and fled my last apartment because I didn't want John to know where I was. I shuddered at the thought.
The elevator dinged and I guided Harry down the hallway to my door. I fumbled with my keys; dropping them at my feet as they escaped from my trembling hands. Harry swiftly dove down and picked them up, wriggling his eyebrows at me as he dangled them in front of my face. "Nervous?"
"No," I lied, rolling my eyes and taking them from him.
I opened my apartment door and kicked off my shoes, thankful that I had just finished unpacking a mere two days ago and that everything was cleaned and organized and all of the moving boxes had been cleared out. Though it was a small space, it was beginning to feel and starting to look like someone actually lived here.
Harry politely took off his boots, carefully placing them on the welcome mat next to my door. He put his hands on his hips and began sauntering around my apartment, looking at the artwork I had hung and the little knick knacks I had placed around the space to make it feel more like a home rather than a temporary resting spot. He grinned, picking up a framed photo of me and Finn from 3rd grade that I had made sure to take with me and display in every residence I inhabited. In the picture, I had just lost my two front teeth and was showing off the empty spaces in my mouth proudly. My arms were wrapped tightly around Finn and our faces were smooshed together. Finn was sporting a fresh bowl cut that his mom gave him one summer that took forever to grow out. We had never looked better, in my opinion.
"It's no Tribeca penthouse, but it'll do," I teased, watching Harry snoop around more. He was closely examining everything: from my photos to my newly potted plants to little figurines that I picked up in the different places we had performed at. He held onto a small plastic alligator toy that Ethan bought me as a keepsake when we performed at House of Blues in Orlando.
"You've got good taste," Harry said to me, ducking underneath the Christmas lights I was using to illuminate my living room until I bought a lamp. But I liked how they looked so much, maybe I would never buy a lamp.
"Thanks." I continued looking at Harry, who kept walking slowly around, wondering what else he was thinking of everything he was seeing. It was admittedly a lot to take in. I did have a lot of stuff in this tiny apartment. It was a lot of me.
Harry moseyed over to my shelves and pulled a specific book off an overflowing ledge and began flipping through it. He was wide eyed when he showed me the cover and said in partial disbelief, "I can't believe you have a copy of Norwegian Wood. This is my favorite piece of literature I've ever read. Ever." He looked dazed as he ran his fingers through the pages carefully. He peered up at me and asked softly, "What happens when people open their hearts?"
"They get better," I quoted the passage he was referring to from the book, taking a step forward.
Harry's eyes glimmered. "Do you believe that?" He asked me after a brief pause, staring at me intently.
"I'd like to," I answered quietly. "But I've opened my heart a few times and..." I stopped, shaking my head, knowing I said too much. "Never mind."
"No, tell me." Harry closed the book and placed it back on the shelf in its spot. "What were you going to say?"
"It's nothing," I brushed him off. "Just the tequila talking nonsense."
"Have it keep talking nonsense then." Harry walked over to the couch and sat down. "We've got time."
I felt my heart sink as I glanced at the clock on the wall. 4:18am
"I mean...I've just opened my heart to a few people and I wouldn't necessarily say it's made me better," I said in a low voice. I shrugged. "Maybe...in some ways, it's made me worse."
"Maybe you've been opening your heart to the wrong people then." Harry didn't blink. "They don't deserve you. Or your heart."
"Maybe." I walked over to the couch and sank into a seat next to him. Being so close was starting to feel like second nature.
"Do you think it's strange that we've known each other for 2 days and it's like...you don't know me...but you know me?" Harry blurted out suddenly, almost as if he couldn't hold it in anymore.
"What do you mean?" Even though I think I understood, I wanted him to keep talking.
Harry straightened up, running his hands through his hair quickly before clarifying, "Like there's people I've known for years and years...I've spend countless hours with them, grew up with them, went to school with them, met them through work or in the industry, have seen some of them at their best and at their worst...and they know me in the sense of you get to know a person just by spending that much time with them. But you..." he paused, glancing up at me. I forgot how to breathe for a moment. "I haven't known you for more than 48 hours and I feel like you know the real me more than a lot of people I've known my entire life."
I nodded, biting my lower lip, surprised Harry was willing to admit the exact feeling I had too out loud to me. I placed my hands on my lap, anxiously picking off the already chipped nail polish, trying to find the right words to say, but not knowing if I should vocalize them. "I know."
"So what does that mean?" Harry asked, almost urgently in a whisper. "What does that mean for us?"
I shrugged, feeling overwhelmed. I knew my apartment was small, but suddenly everything felt like it was closing in on me. "I don't know."
"I think you do."
Harry moved in closer to me. He put his hands over mine, preventing me from scratching them anymore. I noticed his were still painted from last night too.
"Lucy?"
I glanced up silently. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to tell him, so much I wanted to confess and have out in the open between us.
But it was 4 o'clock in the morning in my tiny apartment and Harry would be gone in a few hours for who knows how long. Writing, recording and then eventually promoting new music could take years; I knew this from personal experience. So what about us? Was there even an us to consider? He was going back to California to write deeply personal songs about his most recent girlfriend and I in no way wanted to be a hindrance to that. I also absolutely didn't want to be a rebound or someone he took to bed for one night in order to avoid having the last person he slept with be the girl he used to be in love with.
I understood the desire to make sure that you purged yourself of every "last" you had with that person you were no longer with. I had admittedly done it myself a few times before. I went to favorite restaurants with friends and one-time-only dates to make sure that the last memory I had in that place wasn't shared with him. I made sure to put on old records in new places, so my favorite songs weren't ruined by the mental image of laying in my bed, my body sprawled across his chest, listening to these precious albums with him. I donated old clothes and bought new ones, making sure to toss his preferences or the ones I vividly envisioned on his bedroom floor, even giving away some of my top choices just to get rid of the attachment they held to him.
I had cut my hair because I still felt his fingers running through it. I had thrown out hardly used candles because the scent smelled too similar to his cologne. I scrubbed myself raw in the shower every night because every part of me still felt the presence of his hands on every inch of my skin.
I knew all too well what Harry was going through and what he was about to endure. I couldn't - and wouldn't - get in the way of his process. It wouldn't be fair to him...or to me.
"Lucy?" Harry repeated, louder this time.
I snapped back from my thoughts to reality. I blinked, shaking my head. "Sorry." I peeled off my sweater, feeling overheated and flushed. "I'm not ignoring you. I'm just...thinking."
"You think a lot." Harry smirked, gripping my hand tighter in reassurance. "How about telling me some of what you're thinking?"
My stomach flipped inside of me. Did I dare tell him what I really thought?
"I know what writing about someone you once loved and shared a life with can do to you," I told him softly. My voice was shaking. "I...I don't want to be just someone that you see as...some temporary fix to some of the pain you know you're going to have to go through."
Harry's face fell, looking hurt. "Lucy. I would never do that to you."
"I wouldn't blame you if you did." I shrugged, gradually pulling my hands out of Harry's. His eyes flashed with momentary loss. "I know how it feels to want to be clean of someone entirely; to clear them out of every inch of you that they once occupied." My fists clenched; my body becoming stiff. "I know how it is to feel someone all over you when you don't want their imprints on your skin anymore. I know that I've latched onto people too soon because I wanted to start over with someone new so I wouldn't have to fully process the loss of someone else."
I was terrified I was that filler for Harry.
"Do...do you think that I'm doing that?" Harry asked, unblinking. "To you?"
"I don't know." I rubbed my arms, feeling cold and vulnerable all of a sudden. "All I know is that I've never felt this much, this soon with anyone else before." I paused, feeling my nails carve into my palms again. "And...I don't know what to do with that knowing that you're going to be gone in a few hours to go back to California to relive and write about another girl that you loved."
There. I said it.
"You're not just some temporary fix, Lucy," Harry told me firmly. He seemed mortified at the mere thought. "I can't...I would never want you to think that."
"We'll see if you still think that when you come back from California," I said grimly. I couldn't help myself. "Whenever that is."
"There's no chance I'm letting you be a temporary anything in my life." Harry grabbed my hands again and slightly scolded me, adding, "Don't dig your nails into your palms. You're hurting yourself and you have such soft hands. Don't ruin them."
"Bad habit." My hands were trembling underneath his. I knew he noticed.
"I want you to believe me," Harry continued seriously. "I'm not...I'm not just bullshitting you about all of this. I feel like I've known you forever even though I don't know how that's possible or if that even makes any sense."
It did. We both felt it.
"But I just...I know that you're supposed to be in my life," Harry told me. "It's like you're a puzzle piece that I never knew was even missing until I found you. And even though I feel like we have this connection, I want to keep getting to know you. The real you." His eyes pierced right through me. "I can't get enough of you. I don't think I ever will." He paused, feeling like he said too much, too soon. "Do...do you feel the same?" He swallowed hard nervously. "About me?"
Of course I do, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to scream it at the top of my lungs. I wanted to shout it from every roof top in all of New York City.
But I just sat there silently, choking on all of the words I couldn't say out loud.
Harry nodded at my silence.
"I want to show you something."
I stood up from the couch. Harry still held onto my hand as I walked towards my bedroom. I opened the small window and pulled myself through the tiny space. Harry seemed momentarily worried, but I explained quickly, "Fire escape. It's my favorite part of this whole place." I glanced back at him, smiling. "It's easier to get through than it looks."
Harry laughed, watching me from inside my bedroom through the window frame. "Easy for you to say."
"Come on. Wait until you see the view."
Harry hiked his leg up and wriggled his body through the small window, collapsing loudly at my feet. He looked up at me from the floor, grinning widely in spite of himself. "This view better be worth it."
I helped him to his feet. "See for yourself."
The city lights glimmered against the otherwise dark landscape, making all of New York City seem so small. The buildings and sky scrapers were lit and I couldn't help but wonder who else was awake at this time of night and what they were doing. The traffic lights turned red, yellow and green, splashing some bursts of color onto the scene. Being up here made me feel small, but content; like everything, no matter what happened, was going to be okay.
I heard Harry sigh next to me, inching forward to take in the surroundings.
"Told you." I nudged him, wanting to get closer to him. I crossed my arms; a sudden gust of wind chilling me.
Harry noticed my shiver and wordlessly put his arms around me, resting his chin against the top of my head as we both looked out into the sparkling skyline.
I wasn't cold anymore.
We stood on the fire escape in silence for a long time, just listening to the traffic and our own breathing. I sighed, realizing that time was running out too quickly when I saw the first signs of the sunrise beginning to come up over the horizon.
"I think we should go in," I decided finally, though it was the last thing I wanted.
Harry's arms left my body as the chill immediately returned. I turned to go back inside, when Harry's hand suddenly gripped the top of my arm and carefully tugged me back to him.
I gasped as Harry pulled me into him, pressing me tightly against his body. I rested my head against his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly in his rib cage. A longing sensation overwhelmed me as the air left my lungs in one, quick exhale. I was already missing him even though I was wrapped around him.
He lifted my chin up so my face met his gaze. His green eyes flickered with the same deep sense of craving I felt. I swallowed hard, barely able to remain standing and upright. I couldn't help myself and quickly glanced down at Harry's lips. I blinked and broke my gaze, immediately feeling foolish, as my eyes rose up and noticed Harry was also looking at my mouth. He turned a faint shade of pink when he realized that I caught him staring. He lightly pressed his hands against the sides of my face, running his finger gently across my cheek. His green eyes burned a hole right through the center of me.
"Harry-" I began, but didn't get to finish my sentence.
His lips were on mine before I could even register what was happening. I gasped in surprise as he grabbed me tighter; his hands traveling down from my face to my waist, absentmindedly tracing a delicate pattern on my exposed hipbone with his thumb. He began exploring my body unabashedly, wanting to know and feel every part of me. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, gripping his curls as a soft sigh escaped his mouth.
I wanted more of him.
I was hungry for him.
His tongue ran across my bottom lip as he deepened the kiss, sending a wave of electricity shooting through my veins. I melted into him, wanting to engrave every part of him – his taste, his lips, his scent – into my mind permanently.
Before it was too late. Before he was gone.
Harry matched my urgency as our kiss intensified. Our hands were all over each other, wanting to know every inch of each other's bodies. I could spend the rest of my life wrapped up in him and it still wouldn't be enough time.
We finally broke apart, breathless and dazed. It took a moment for my mind to catch up with reality and what had just happened. After I was certain I hadn't dreamed the entire thing, I looked up at Harry, who was watching me and waiting for my reaction.
"Do you want to go inside?" I stared at him, feeling the heat emanating off my flushed face. My head was spinning, but even so, everything seemed to be so clear.
Harry nodded eagerly. "Yes." He was winded. His eyes were wide. "Yes I do."