xiv*

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I'm putting the author's note first for this one. I had nothing to do today lmao so I wrote this:) It's my favorite chapter so far I think. For real this time tho, I won't update until next week. This is a good place to leave off, you'll see ;) And I'm sorry if what you want doesn't happen it's not my problem

I'm hoping to finish this story by my birthday as a gift to myself!!

oh yeah comment & vote, angels

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Harry found peace in fighting; he had been doing it for nearly five years, and the feeling that came from it was like a drug to him. But he suddenly stopped as soon as he started to go to the gym with Jackson nightly. The first day he took Clara's younger brother to the gym in attempt to 'train' him, Harry found that he was just as annoying as she had claimed. He didn't listen very well to Harry's instructions, partly because he was too busy gawking at the women jogging on the treadmills dressed in tight workout clothes, and partly because his ego made him think that he could do whatever kick or punch Harry was trying to show him without any guidance. Why did he even want my help then? Harry had gotten so infuriated that first night that by the time he left, he had relieved all of his anger on the stupid teenager and the punching bag and... he felt surprisingly good. After that, Harry just didn't have an urge to fight anymore, or the time. Clara wasn't too fond of the idea of sharing Harry with her brother but it was better than worrying about his safety.

Ray definitely wasn't fond of it. Harry went to that street corner which he had become so familiar with one Tuesday night to clear things up with his old boss, the man who indirectly had helped him through the past years.

"This is the last time I'm coming here," he informed him, hands slung in the pockets of his hoodie. Harry watched as the end of his cigarette glowed with life and then the stick was pulled out of his mouth so a pool of smoke could flood the air between them.

"Last time you're coming here?" Ray arched a thick brow and put a hand on his stomach. "That's not a funny joke, Styles."

"It's not a joke."

The aging man looked at him, eyes narrowing, and Harry stared into the dark irises and saw nothing but an endless life of bitter cigarettes and illegally earned money. There was no peace or self-acceptance in his eyes and Harry wanted to throw up at the sight of it.

"Huh," Ray took another drag. "That's the fastest anyone has ever went from my favorite person, to my least favorite. What was that? Half a second? Incredible." He had let out a gravelly laugh and Harry didn't have anything else left to say to the person he prayed he wouldn't someday become.

The snowfall was replaced with heavy rain during the last week of January. On the night that the water was beating down at record quantities, Clara got a call from Liam as she was on her way over to Harry's house. She hadn't seen much of him for the past week because she was busy searching for job openings during the day, and then Harry was busy slamming his fists against a punching bag and yelling at her brother at night.

"Make it quick, I'm driving," Clara answered the phone. She stuck it between her shoulder and ear while keeping both of her hands on the steering wheel.

"I was just wondering if you're free to come over and watch movies tonight," Liam replied smoothly. Clara took a moment to respond as she was too busy scowling at the car next to her for getting in her lane without warning. The rain was coming down hard against the window shield, large droplets thudding and pattering and making her mind feel jumbled.

"Movies?" Clara repeated once she had safely turned the corner. "Oh, right. Yeah, I can come over in an hour or two. See you then." She hung up on him and tossed her cellphone to the seat beside her, eager to end the call so her poor ability to focus didn't cause her to swerve into one of the tall aspens at the side of the road. When she pulled up by the curb in front of Harry's house, she climbed to the back seat and rummaged around through the trunk before grasping onto the rain jacket she kept there for emergencies. Clara shrugged it on her shoulders and put the hood over her hair (She had spent over an hour straightening it. There was no way she was going to let the January rains waste her efforts).

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