Note To Self (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter Two.

Harry spent three full nights thinking about the things Aubry had said that Friday evening on the balcony. He'd never in his life had such an honest conversation before and it had been with someone he'd known for as long as he could remember, but never bothered to get to know personally. Her words continuously ran through his mind as he laid in bed before he drifted off to sleep, and he struggled with accepting the truth of every sentence spoken.

The first real conversation Harry and Aubry shared was one that struck him to the core. He was intrigued. She had his attention, whether she meant to grab it or not. He was curious and he wanted more. He wanted to hear what else she had to say, what other observations she'd made that he'd been blind to. He became mildly obsessed with it and he thought about it constantly. He stared at the back of her head at church that Sunday, and again in Anatomy class on Monday morning. She didn't bother to give him a second glance, even when she could feel his eyes glued to her. She ignored him.

His curiosity never died down as the days passed on, so when he saw her on the street during his walk home from school, he immediately began to follow. He didn't give it much thought as he trailed about ten feet behind. It wasn't the first time he'd ever seen her on a walk, he actually saw her almost daily heading in the same direction. Only, they normally walked on opposite sides of the street. She felt uneasy as she sensed him catching up behind, almost too close for comfort. Her pace increased, and so did his.

It wasn't until they'd passed by his usual turn to go home that she got really uncomfortable and snapped. She spun around to face him so quickly and unexpectedly by him that his body nearly toppled her much smaller frame into the ground. He gripped onto her shoulders in attempt to save her from falling and she shoved at his chest, "What's your problem?"

He stumbled back from the force behind the shove he'd received and nervously began to trip over his own words, "I'm sorry, I just - I wanted... I just wanted to say hi... And, um, maybe we could talk some more. If that's okay?"

"No," she deadpanned. "I'm not in the mood to talk."

He felt something heavy sink in his chest and a frown set in on his face. The disappointment he felt was enough to cause his eyes to cast downward at the ground, but along the way he caught sight of a book held in her hand. He pointed at it, "What's that?"

She pulled it back to shield it with her body, like it was a top secret item only she could lay eyes on. "It's nothing."

He knew she lied, but he already had his guess on what it was. The brown leather binding of the book was so similar to the one he owned himself, he was almost completely sure he was correct. He shrugged his backpack off his shoulders to unzip it and reach inside for the book that matched hers nearly identically. "It's a journal, isn't it?" he questioned, just as he pulled his out to show her. "I have one too."

The fact that he'd been so open about something she perceived to be so personal made her a little less defensive about hers, but not very.

Harry slung his bag back over his shoulder with his leather bound book held in his large hand. "Were you going to write in it?"

She eyed him for a moment, internally debating whether she wanted to speak to him about it. She decided it wasn't revealing much and apprehensively nodded. "I was."

"Maybe we could write together?" he suggested, though it was more of an ask for permission to join.

Her lips pinched together in a grimace, not fond of the idea of sharing something she'd done by herself for years with him. It was her escape and allowing him to tag along was not appealing to her.

"Please," he begged, seeing her dislike of the idea written all over her face. "I promise I'll be quiet."

She could clearly hear the desperation in Harry's voice and, though she was almost positive she would soon regret it, she gave in. "Fine."