[Neither of them promised forever, yet it hurt all the same.]
River Hamilton cannot afford to fall for just anyone. To continue the legacy of her family the only way she can, she must eventually marry someone she may not want to spend the rest of he...
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H.STYLES
To say that Harry Styles struggled to find the rhythm during the first dance class he was dragged to attend would be an understatement. There were only two people before him, River and the dance teacher, yet it felt like the entire world watched and criticised him. On the other hand, River flew across the room with ease, smooth in her steps, her turns, the backward dips of her movements. No wonder she moved like a professional when she had been exposed to these lessons from a young age. Harry didn't think he could become even more attracted to her then he saw her dance, and he swore his heart doubled its pace.
By the time the hour ended, he expected to see tears in the eyes of his reflection. Instead, he saw sweat around his hairline, drops down his temples, not to mention the state of his shirt. He spoke no words as he removed himself from the room and stood under the shower for a good ten minutes.
Absolute horror.
And to think he would have to go through more of this? It dawned on him that maybe he'll find himself sick on the day of the Oxford Ball.
Jesus fucking Christ.
The Oxford Ball. Disbelief induced chuckles surrounded him in the empty shower stall as he tried to process his reality. In all his life he never thought he would ever be able to attend a school like Oxford so he never thought of it as a possibility when he applied for higher education. Whilst he didn't know more than he was exposed to about his family's past, he was aware that his father graduated from Cambridge which was about the closest he ever got to such a prestigious education.
Today, as a twenty-eight-year-old, he was preparing to enter a similar very fairy-tale-like establishment, and dance on its floors.
Nothing about this made sense. Harry did not belong in that environment.
Thoughts started to drown him in his own mind but he caught the door before it slammed shut. Put his foot in its way and finished off his shower, got ready, and made his way towards the reception area to meet River. The pair of jeans he wore with a white t-shirt and a black bomber jacket over it felt slightly chilly as he neared the reception area and was welcomed by the outside air.
Except when Harry walked through the glass doors, he found River occupied with a man a couple of inches taller than her. The suit he wore and the position he took up told Harry this man had money, and whilst Harry could only see his back, he was certain of who it had to be.
Instantly, Harry felt transported back to the Adelaide Aid Gala where he purposefully interrupted River's dance with Charlie. Without a doubt, as he neared the two of them, he recognised the man from that night and he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why the shape of Charlie was so engraved in his memory.
"Charlie, no," River emphasised as her lips curled up into a forced smile, one that made Harry believe she didn't have a way out of her conversation. He knew her well enough to not interfere but linger by the large flower pot that seemed to house a miniature tree.
