Harry on the Prairie

Harry on the Prairie

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing4h 22m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Feb 14, 2018
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Fanfic
1Direction
Harry Styles
Harry on the Prairie ~ A Harry Styles AU Fanfiction WATTYS 2016 WINNER in the category of HQ LOVE An excerpt published via COSMOPOLITAN online via September 14, 2016. *********** NOTICE: Mature/sexual content lies within these pages . . .you may experience feels in your nether-regions. *********** Harry Styles lives alone on his farm a few miles outside of Cider Creek. He's 20 years old and mighty handsome --too handsome to be keeping to himself as much as he does, but that's how he's always been. Harry was 18 when he bought his farmland. No parents, no wife, only him. He came into town on the rare occasion that he needed something from the mercantile, but that was it. No church on Sundays. He was polite if someone approached him, but it was obvious to everyone that Harry just wanted to be left alone. So after awhile, the townsfolk pretty much gave up trying to include him in anything. He lived his life in deliberate solitude. It was better this way. Then one day, a letter came for Harry in the post. The postmaster had to ride out and deliver it special, as Harry never got any mail, and as a result, never stopped by the post office to check like most people did...
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August is starting her first year of college, ready to turn a new page in the book that is her life. After running away from her hometown two years prior, she has started a new life in San Francisco, working in a café and making new friends. That is, until she sees a ghost from her past, someone she would have given everything to, but who she had to leave behind: her best friend Harry Styles. But is there too much brokenness between them, or is their relationship mendable? "Right," Harry said awkwardly. "August, this is Blaine, my roommate, and Blaine, this is August, my..." a slow pause followed his statement, as he tried to figure out how to define her. How could he? She had been his best friend since they were 7 years old, then his first and only love, and now she was a ghost from his past. She had been the only person that always understood him, his only escape, his breath of fresh air. He had never loved anyone the way he loved her, and when she had left, his world had fallen apart. Now, looking at her, with her big blue eyes and messy hair, his heart broke a little at the thought of describing her as his friend from home. She was so much more than that. "... my friend from home." His voice cracked when he pronounced those words, and she quickly looked down at her feet, trying to bite down the tears threatening at her eyes. Friend from home. What a terrible label.

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