a/n: y'all remember that show?
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I make my way down the stairs, feeling as if I'm carrying a backpack filled to the brim with a heavy weight of guilt. I walk straight into the living room, taking a left to walk down the hallway. The hallway was lit up by lights that looked a whole lot more like lamps hanging down from the ceiling. I guess I'm just used to lighting that looks a little too identical to boobs.
I stop in front of a closed door, the wood stained a darker brown color. Softly, I knock, hoping Jess wasn't asleep still. It was almost noon now, and she had a flight home to catch in a few hours.
After waiting for a few seconds, the door swings open, revealing an exhausted-looking Jess, her hair in a messy bun on the side of her head, her front pieces hanging out. She closes her eyes as she lets out a sigh, causing me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion.
"I cannot wait to sleep on the plane," she says in a breathy voice before opening her eyes to look at me. She finally realizes that I'm standing there waiting for her to let me into the room, and she jumps a little. "Oh shit, sorry. Come in."
She moves out of the way for me to walk through the door into her room and I see piles of her clothes scattered across the unmade bed.
"What time is your flight again?" I ask, internally wondering why her clothes were laying everywhere and not packed in her suitcase.
"Like 3," she says walking around me and lays down on her bed on top of all the clothes. "And before you say anything, I know I should be packing, but I just don't wanna leave this place."
"What do you mean?" I ask, sitting down on the corner of the bed where there happened to be an empty spot.
"I just..." She sighs, sitting up. "This house is a literal dream." She takes a look around, smiling at what she had to see around her. "The house just...has that kind of vibe. You know?"
"Yeah, I get what you mean," I agree with her, nodding.
I knew exactly how she was feeling. The soul of the house almost seemed like a piece of Harry's soul had been sprinkled in every corner, it was so close to identical. I could describe it as vintage but also modern, which is also how you could describe Harry. Between the posters on the walls of bands from the 70s and the guitar sitting in the corner of his bedroom, you could tell Harry made this house his space. He filled it with things he loved, not even thinking twice about what anyone else would think. This house was Harry's. And I loved it.
"So..." She sighs again. "Are you excited about London?"
"I mean, yeah, but..." I trail off, looking at the floor instead of at Jess.
"But what?" She asks, assuming that I wasn't going to continue that sentence. And she'd be right, because I wasn't exactly sure what came after the 'but'.
"I don't know." I sigh. I look over at her, feeling a lump of guilt gather in my throat. "Are you sure you're okay with me going? Are you going to be okay?"
"Lils," Jess laughs softly, "Harry and I already had this conversation. I called Jackson and ensured that he would be there to help me if I needed anything. Besides, you need to stop worrying about me and start focusing on yourself." She gives me a soft smile. "Are you okay with this?"
"I think so," I say hesitantly.
"Why not 'yes, of course, absolutely'?" She sits up straight, turning her whole body so she was completely facing me, showing she was listening. "Talk to me. I'm all ears."
"It's just..." I sigh. "He wants me to meet his family in London. And I feel like that's a pretty big step in our relationship. Not that it's a step I'm not willing to take, its just...nerve-wracking. I mean, his family's opinions matter so much to him...and what if they don't like me."
"Well, haven't you met them before?" She asks, just as I predicted she would. "I thought you said you met Anne and Gemma after Harry's show."
"I did," I admit, nodding. "But now he wants to introduce me. Like, as his official girlfriend."
"Oh wow," she gasps. "What are you gonna wear?"
"Jess, that's the last thing on my mind right now," I tell her, mentally rolling my eyes at her.
"What?! It's important," she says. "I know it's not technically your first impression, but first impressions are everything. To meet the mother, you shouldn't wear anything too slutty, but you also don't want to look like a prude. I mean, personally, I would go with like a sundress that shows just the littlest bit of skin...something simple. It won't look like you're trying too hard, but you put in the effort."
"How about I just wear whatever I feel like that day and we focus on something more important?" I suggest, desperate to stay on track. As much as I love fashions and talking about clothes, that's not what I was focused on at the moment.
"Whatever." She holds her hands up in surrender. "Don't come crying to me when you can't figure out what to wear."
"Okay, Jess." I force out a chuckle. My eyes land on the cast on her arm and I clear my throat. "I've been meaning to ask you, how's your arm?"
She looks down at the black cast on her wrist before turning around and banging against the headboard.
"Can't feel it," she says, her voice level raised the slightest bit in order for me to hear her over the sound of her smacking her arm against the bed. "But it doesn't hurt," she says finally, thankfully resting her arm back down by her side.
"Alright then," I say, my eyes wide, not entirely sure what just happened. Or why on earth she felt I needed a demonstration. "But back to the whole thing with Harry." I shake my head, still confused about what exactly it was that I felt. "What am I supposed to do when he has to leave to go do things for work and you're not there?"
"Just find ways to entertain yourself." She shrugs.
"That's a lot easier said than done, Jess," I tell her.
"Well I'm trying to help you here, but I'm not sure what you want me to say," Jess says. "Binge watch a show, bake a cake...I don't know. Adventure around the city."
"I'm just nervous," I admit. "And I don't even know what I'm nervous about. I just have this like...anxiety and I can't tell what's causing it. It's like I'm nervous to just go to London, but not anywhere else. It feels like something's just waiting for me there."
"Lils, if you're not comfortable going, then don't go," Jess says as if that wasn't already obvious.
"But I want to go now," I tell her. "I mean, Harry specifically got an extra ticket to The Brits so I would be able to go with him and-"
"Wait, hold on," she cuts me off. "He's taking you to The Brits? As in an award show?"
"Yeah, why?" I mutter, nervous about what she had to say next.
"Are you guys like...publicizing your relationship or something?" She asks and I feel myself getting confused by her words.
"No," I say, shaking my head. "I don't think so at least. That isn't really something we've talked about."
"Well, if you go to the award show together, the dating rumors are only going to multiply. You showing up as his plus one is a dead giveaway," Jess tells me. "Not to even mention the fact that you two will be flying in together."
Her words got me thinking, then that led to nervous butterflies fluttering inside my stomach.
"But we aren't going to The Brits alone. Gemma's coming with," I say what I failed to mention before. "Couldn't Harry just say I'm a friend if anyone were to ask?"
"You're already labeled as 'mysterious blonde' in the tabloids. So chances are...no."
I let out a shaky sigh, now debating whether going with Harry would be a good idea or not. But he already went the extra mile to get me a ticket...so now I had to go. Right?
"But either way," she says quickly, "I'm sure you'll be fine. Harry's smart and will know how to handle everything." I look up at her, a weary look still on my face. "What are you going to wear?" She asks in an attempt to change to a happier subject. But she failed because that only made my anxiety higher.
"Shit," I curse. "I haven't even thought about that. What do I even wear to that? More importantly, I need to find out what Harry's wearing so I know what standards to live up to."
"I'm sure you'll figure it out." She shrugs. "I highly doubt Harry will let you go to an award show with him in anything but the best."
"He better not offer to buy me anything," I say, hoping deep down that he won't. "He's already doing so much for me...I wouldn't want him to go to any more trouble than he already has."
"Honestly Lils, if I were you, I'd let him," Jess says.
"But then I will feel like I'm taking advantage of him," I tell her, nibbling on my bottom lip discretely.
"But think about it. If he's offering and insisting to buy you things and take you places and do things for you, then he obviously wants to," she tells me her opinion. "I'd honestly hate if I was desperately trying to do things for someone and they kept declining. I really think Harry's just trying to be nice and show you how good of a guy he is. And it might be frustrating him that you're not letting him do so." She shrugs yet again, leaning back onto her elbows, still laying on the pile of clothes. "Besides, the man needs to spend his money somehow."
Maybe she was right. If Harry was simply just trying to be nice, I get why he didn't just say so. It doesn't really mean as much when you have to point out to someone that you're being nice.
I let out an elongated sigh, tilting my head back. "God, I hate when you're right."
"I'm right a lot," she says jokingly. But then again, that wasn't really a joke.
I hear a soft knocking sound coming from the door. I turn my head to the side, seeing Harry standing in the doorway.
"Hey Styles," I say, smiling softly. I was happy to see him, even given the fact that I saw him less than half an hour ago.
"Hi. I just came to see if you were packed and..." He trails off, looking around at the mess on the bed Jess and I sat on.
"No, Jess isn't packed," I tell him the obvious, standing up. "But she will be by the time she needs to leave."
"Yes I will," Jess agrees quickly, springing up and beginning to fold the clothes.
"No rush," Harry says as I walk over to him. "Take your time. You still have a couple of hours, so don't stress yourself out."
Jess flashes him a soft smile before laying back down, showing how she truly felt about packing right away. Harry chuckles and shifts his attention to me, seeing that I was now standing by his side.
"Are you all packed?" He asks me.
"Not quite," I tell him. "I still have a few more things, but I'm almost done."
"Let's go do that then," he suggests, nodding his head in the direction of the end of the hallway. "We won't be coming back after we take Jess to the airport. I can help you if you need."
"Oh okay," I say, walking out into the hallway. I had nothing better to do, so may as well get this task out of the way.
* * *
"Hey Lils," I hear Harry say from his closet.
"Yeah?" I answer.
"Here's this back," he says. I turn around, only to see him holding a purple, red, and green sweater in his hands. "Thanks for letting me borrow it. It came in handy."
"You actually wore it?" I ask, my eyes widening. I hesitantly take it from him.
"Yeah, I did," he chuckles. "Everyone loved it though."
"I don't believe you actually wore that." I raise an eyebrow. If I wouldn't wear that, there's no way in hell Harry would choose to wear it...especially for a music video.
"Wanna bet?" he says, pulling his phone out of the pocket of the black hoodie he wore. He taps on the screen a few times before turning his phone towards me, revealing a picture of him wearing, indeed, the ugly sweater.
I gasp. "No shit."
Harry chuckles, drawing his phone away and tucking it back into his pocket. Meanwhile, I fold up the sweater, placing it into my open suitcase.
"What time does our flight board?" I ask him out of the blue. The thought struck my mind as I saw my suitcase.
"Whenever we want," he says in a low voice, looping his arm around my waist.
"What do you mean?" I furrow my eyebrows. "I thought you said you got us plane tickets."
"I never said we were flying commercial, now did I?" He says in a know-it-all tone, planting a kiss on my temple. I feel my heart drop out of my ribcage.
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a/n: hi. please stream watermelon sugar as many times as you can so harry can get to #1 on the billboard top 100 (and then be nominated for a grammy)!!! <3