Predictable // Harry Styles

(6)Warmth

A/N:

Hi, you beautiful person.

this is annoying, i know. but i really would like more comments. i'm putting the author's note at the beginning now, because people seem to read it more! but honestly, i feel like no one is enjoying the story. let me know if you are, in the comments please. the more, the merrier, shall i say?

so, comment for me?

so yeah a major plot twist in the story, although some of you DID speculate that at the end of predictable. koodos to you, smart cookies.

xoxo

enjoy!

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The door was hard on my back, but I didn't care. Watching them sleep was adorable, really, and was currently the only positivity in my life at the moment. They were my escape from the current mess, called my life.

After we had both confessed to what we had both done - I kissing Taylor, Harry with another girl - we had both accepted something. I could still hear his words in my head.

"I'm coming home."

It was expected that he would be back by late today, already a day passed from our phone call. My phone had been quite busy lately. Another shocker had been, a call from Liam.

He had only called once, but it was enough for me to wonder. I had missed the call, though. I considered calling him back, but what would I say. Telling him about everything he had missed, sharing details about the twins. Harry and I, that would be a subject I knew bringing up for me would be hard.

When I walked back into the kitchen, I finally came to terms with myself. The emotions I had been blocking couldn't be blocked forever. If there was a moment where crying was acceptable, now would be it.

But as I said before, I had drained myself of all my tears.

There was a bit of sunshine streaming through the curtains, so my feet tapped on the flooring until I reached them. The sight was nearly blinding, a dozens strokes of paint couldn't match the brightness. Sunlight mixing with the glare of fresh snow. Snow, at this time of year? Acceptable, since it was Cheshire I guess. If only every time it snowed, we could have picturesque view.

After all the events that have happened after this past year, I could help but notice I felt older. Just a year ago I was in a blurry state, where I didn't exactly know where my life was going. A girl who ran a book store with two cheesy and exceptionally different people, who never dreamed of having children. I guess they say a lot can change, and in my case so much more than I expected.

If only I hadn't been stupid, if only I hadn't been under the influence of alcohol, maybe I would know who was the father to Lottie and Ry. They'll never know, and I'll never be able to tell them.

I was still peering out the window when the phone rang. I quickly pulled out my phone, wondering if Harry was calling about his arrangements for where he was staying. I didn't know if I could let him stay here. I didn't know anything.

When I looked down, the contact number was unexpected. Liam, his name clear on the screen, was calling me. This time, though, I would be picking up.

"Liam?" I said, my tone questioning. Four months of absolute no contact, and now he was calling.

His voice was panicky, and it only made me more confused. There was even a hint of slurring.

"Sophie, I'm so, I'm so sorry."

"Liam? What are you talking about?"

"I should have told you, when we met. B-But I didn't and I should have."

Questions formed in my head, questions I wanted to scream at him. This was ridiculous, impossible.

"Don't lie to me. Don't you dare-"

A clicking noise echoed into the living room, the sound coming from what I assumed to be the front door. Before I could hang up on Liam, a tall, green eyed guy walked casually in, plopping his bag onto the ground.

He looked different than he had when he left. Tattoos lined his arm; more than he had before. Instead of side-swept curls, his hair had been finger-combed up, his curls no longer dangling in his pale eyes. The American sun had kissed his skin, a darker tone replacing his pale English one. Not that Harry hadn't been muscular before, but his arms held a lot more to them now. No, he wasn't the same boy who had left before.

"I know, I've changed." He mumbled, a quirky grin appearing on those lips I thought I had memorized.

Even from afar, all I could want to do was walk over there and kiss him. Forget everything in the past few weeks and just kiss the hell out of him, because when he left a hole had been pierced in  my heart. Empty it had stayed, and now I just wanted him. But my brain kept muttering no, until it became nearly a chant in my head. No, you can't kiss a cheater. No, you won't need a liar. No, no, no.

"Yeah, in more way than I thought." The words had already left my lips before my mind had caught up to them.

His grin disappeared. It turned into a .. depressed one. A sad one. Not one that I had expected, to say the least. When we were together, even, he had never held such sadness in a look. The urge to just run up to him and tell him again and again that I loved him reappeared. To run my hands on his new arms, to trace his latest tattoos.

My attention diverted to the buzzing phone in my hand, Liam's voice radiating from it. "Sophie-ee?"

I blushed instinctively. I raised the phone quickly to my head, wondering what Harry would think of this. Just seeing Harry had made me forget about everything Liam had said.

"I have to go." I whispered sharply, hanging up on the guy who claimed to be my children's father. I would have to deal with all of that later.

"I see Liam's been keeping you company." He muttered.

He pressed his back to the doorway, his flannel plaid shirt tightening around his arms. There was so much I hadn't known I missed about Harry.

"Not exactly." I shrugged, throwing the phone onto the couch.

What should I say? What could I say, or even do? I wanted to tell him about the twins, I wanted to show him them. They weren't his kids, though. He hadn't been here to see them grow up. But I knew he wanted to, because I seen the look on his face when Harry left them. The beaming smile he had when his big arms took the two of them. Harry.

"And what's that mean, Soph?" My heart felt nearly on fire when he called me that.

There was, an eternity of things that I missed about him. Sure, we were having our problems. But if, if you loved someone, you would you go any distance, anything to make it work.

"It means nothing, Handsome." I broke near the end.

He sensed my weakness, his eyes becoming hollow-looking. That was another thing that earned me more tears. That he still cared. Cared about me, cared about the kids, and he made a mistake. A mistake that he admitted. A mistake I hated. A mistake.

The silent urge to sob made a ball rise in my throat. I couldn't talk now if I wanted to.

"Sophie." He croaked.

The second it took for him to walk over, was the same second it made me to truly forget everything. Harry mattered to me. And those cliche love stories where they say her heart stops beating? Mine felt like it was burning - but not painfully. A sort of calming warmth to have his arms holding me when they did. To have his chin resting on my head. Warm, when I had been feeling cold for months.