Fat // Harry Styles

chapter three

chapter three

I DID IT. I got the job. Not only that, but I even managed to buy back most of the goodies I had ruined, like Justin requested. I had absolutely zero spending money left, and I still hadn't gotten all of the groceries, but he came home Friday night content to see the cupboards full once more. His satisfaction was all I needed. All that mattered.

He watched a movie with me later that evening. It was nice to curl up next to him. Nowadays it was a rare opportunity to cuddle with him. He was either gone or in a bad mood, and when he was in a bad mood, he made it clear he didn't want to look at me. I couldn't blame him. I'm rather disgusting to observe. Even nastier to hold and snuggle.

I had met Harry at the park again that morning, as promised. Still, he seemed a bit shocked to see me. Miraculously, he appeared almost relieved. We did the same routine as Wednesday, minus the touchy lesson in the beginning and plus another lap around the park. I tired out halfway through the second one, which Harry said was understandable and we'd try again next session. He had hardly broken a sweat.

"Did they make you my trainer to torture me?" I had asked him.

He raised his eyebrows. "Torture you how?"

My cheeks were already flushing, so I looked to the ground. "You'll probably be eighty and still capable of outrunning me," I said. "And you'll probably still look better than me."

"Was that a subtle way of you complimenting my looks?"

I gaped up at him, face burning, yet he was grinning teasingly, tilting his head to the side. "Don't put words in my mouth." I had pointed my finger at him, as if I were making a threat. Had I been doing so, I'd be too lazy to fulfill that threat so we both knew it was meaningless.

Harry held his hands up. "I did no such thing." He was quiet for a moment before saying, "So does that mean you think I'm ugly?"

I slapped my hand to my forehead and he bent over laughing.

Sunday afternoon, Justin rolled out of bed batting his eyes at me, playful like he used to be while I was brushing my teeth. He stretched before walking over to me, placing his lips on my forehead. He had me going in circles constantly--some days he was like his old self and others he was telling me I wasn't good enough for him. What was I supposed to believe? I couldn't give up when the part of him I love still remained.

For some reason, he was extra affectionate this morning. He wrapped his arms around my waist while I scrambled some eggs and cooked him bacon, resting his chin on my shoulder. It was so much like how we used to be. It was painful to think about. I devoured the moment, however, not wanting to risk it being tossed away forever. I missed this. I missed him.

He walked over to the fridge, peering inside before asking, "No more orange juice?"

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. Well, the moment was beautiful while it lasted. "I'm sorry. I hadn't realized or I would have--"

Justin looked over his shoulder at me with a smile--a smile!--on his face. "It's alright, babe. Could we go to the store? I think we're running low on some other stuff, too."

I was staring at him, unsure of what to make of this new person. Is the old Justin really returning to me? A spark of joy made my heart skip a beat at the thought. "Oh, well... sure we can. We can go after you eat."

He pressed his lips to mine for a split second before grabbing the plate I fixed him out of my hands. When he sat on the couch, he called me over to sit by him. I was beyond my wits at this point, but I really hadn't cared. He wanted me around and I would cling to that, clutch the small hope of us ever going back to normal.