hello! welcome to the final fic of 2020. hope we're all buckled in and ready for this emotional rollercoaster. got your tissues nearby? good.
this is 20k words and it includes smut, so if that makes you uncomfy...sorry! i have listened to Winter Wonderland like 47 times while writing this and it's all i sing now.
this fic is about harry, who has moderate to severe social anxiety, and miriam, the happiest, most extroverted girl you'll ever meet. this fic runs through 2 years of their relationship. each month starts off with a new header.
since its the holidays, i was hoping you, the person reading this, could spread some holiday love and donate to my ko-fi. it's linked in my bio. i've written a lot this year and it would be a very very warm gesture. i don't know how to say this more gracefully: pls give me like $2 (or more!) in exchange for this 20k word fic. please. thank you so very much.
LETS GET ON WITH IT!!
***
New Year's Day 2019
"Stop fuckin' staring," Niall groans, flicking Harry's forehead. "You need to seriously stop before she notices and calls the police because you're such a creep."
Harry blinks out of his trance, glancing down at his friend who is already drunk. It's only 2 hours after midnight, and his friends show no sign of stopping their partying. Well, they're not his friends. They're Niall and his girlfriend's friends. Her name is Alisha. She's lovely.
"I'm not staring," he mutters, but the music in the bar masks his voice. This music is awful, and he's really annoyed at the tension headache forming.
"Why don't you go and say hi?"
Harry's face grows hot at the ridiculous suggestion. "I can't do that. She's... she's with all her friends." As if he'd approach her if she were alone.
Niall's girlfriend comes closer and hears the last bit. "Who is?"
"The girl over there dancing with the blonde girl. The one with the loose curls." She must be Middle Eastern. Most likely North African. Possibly even West Asian, but he doesn't want to assume.
"Oh. Oh, that's Miriam. You want to go say hi?"
Harry's teeth grind down against each other, heat flooding his cheeks, trickling down to the rest of the body. The girl, Miriam it seems, is gently swaying to the music, and he faintly sees her mouth forming around the words of the song. She's pretty. She has full red cheeks and eyeliner, her nails a shade of green that's so dark, it resembles anything but his eyes. He suspects they're from the holidays. She's wearing a black top tucked into her jeans and some sparkle on her face. When she bends over to pick something off the floor, he sees how the fat around her hips push against the material of her shirt and it makes him shudder, wanting to grab that perfect curve. That's weird, right?
Of course he only knows all this because he's been staring at her.
"No," he hears himself say. "I'm good. I'm just...admiring."
"Admiring?" Alisha snickers, pinching his cheek. "You're adorable. Go fucking talk to her."
Alisha isn't drunk; she's sworn off alcohol after an incident in college. He doesn't know the details and he's never really asked Niall about it either. This means she's making sense. He's not that drunk either because he's not a big fan of alcohol and has never taken the time to find one he likes.
"No. I can't."
"Go on, you weirdo. Go get laid."
His eyes widen. "Laid? I'm not looking to have sex tonight, Alisha."
