Backwards // Book One

Chapter 3.

The warm hardwood floors creak beneath our feet as Harry and I bring in a handful of new decor for our house. I walk quickly to the kitchen, praying that I won't drop anything. Harry follows behind me, laughing. As soon as the items are on the counter I feel relief wash over me. Some of those items can't be easily replaced. Antique decor can be expensive.

"I'm happy we made it in here without dropping anything..." Harry says as he smiles and sets the items in his arms on the counter next to yours.

As soon as the words slip out of his mouth, a crystal vase that you bought from the antique store falls quickly, shattering into a handful of large pieces.

"I really just shouldn't have said anything..." Harry laughs as he shakes his head and kneels down next to the broken pieces of what was once a beautiful vase.

"I'll grab a broom..." I say as I walk towards the pantry in the kitchen.

"Yeah, get one of those sweepy things too..." He says as he picks up the bottom half of what's left of the vase.

"What sweepy thing?" I ask as I turn around.

"You know, the sweepy thing...?" He asks, making a broom motion with his hands.

"A broom?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

"No, you know the thing you sweep the broom into?" He asks, throwing a piece of the vase in the garbage.

"Oh, a dustpan?" I ask, tilting my head.

"Is that what it's called?" He asks, looking back down at the mess in the middle of the kitchen floor.

"Yeah, I think so. Okay, hold on." I say, entering the pantry searching for the small broom and dustpan set we have.

I find it buried behind a variety of other cleaning supplies and tools. As I leave the pantry, I find the kitchen empty. Harry's not standing over the mess anymore. However, it's still there ready to be picked up.

I groan and lean down to begin removing the pieces of glass from the floor. I'm able to get it cleaned up quickly and return the broom set to the pantry. Still no sign of Harry. He's probably just gone to the bathroom or something. That or he's been distracted by something. That's a possibility too. Harry can get distracted by anything and everything.

The boxes sitting a top of the kitchen counters are staring back at me as I pout out my lips and sigh. I really hate packing and unpacking. It's basically all that I do. I take a deep breath and begin organizing the boxes, wanting to make sure to put the dishes and pots and pans up tonight that way we can actually cook an actual meal our first night in our new house.

As I begin pulling glasses out of my first box, I look out the window of the kitchen, finding Harry on his cell phone in the garden. I watch him carefully. He has his free hand buried into the back pocket of his black skinny jeans and he's laughing with every other word. He looks so happy and carefree. He looks exactly like the man I fell in love with two years ago.

I just smile and shake my head, remembering back to the photoshoot where we first met. Harry was in the tightest jeans that you've ever seen a man wear, a distressed black t-shirt and black boots. He was dubbed "the man in black" by all of the people that were working on the set that day. He responded lightly to the nickname, laughing along with them as they made jokes.

I was listening to their conversation as they talked and laughed behind me as I was having my hair and makeup done. I stared into the mirror testing my own reflection. I was so worried about everything that was going on. The thoughts consumed me, eating me alive. I wasn't one to feel anxious or get panic attacks, but I was definitely feeling anxious and panicky then. 

As I heard Harry's booming laugh, I turned my focus from my own face to his. It was only his reflection, but he was still beautiful. It might be weird that I first thought him as "beautiful" compared to a more manly "hot" or "sexy." Which of course he was all those things, but I thought that those words were a bit cheap for him. He really was beautiful.

I watched him carefully, watching his every move. He had his hands to his hips and his head leaned back, listening to every word that was being said in the group. I watched as his thin lips slowly curved into a wide smile, his head slowly shaking as he did so. The room seemed to stand still as I watched him. The moment it returned to it's fast pace was when he looked up and immediately met my gaze. 

I quickly turned my eyes away and pretended not to notice him again. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest and my stomach felt like it had butterflies. I don't know if those feelings came from the fact that I liked Harry and thought he was attractive or if it was from me being caught staring at him. It was probably a mixture of both. 

The makeup artists continued applying all of the makeup for the shoot and the hair stylists continuing to brush through my ratty hair. They didn't even notice the world going on around them, they were purely in their element. Artists like any other. As the hair and makeup teams finished and began to clean up, Harry started walking over to me.

I was beyond nervous. I'm still not sure why I was so nervous. I had boyfriends before Harry, mostly other models or someone somewhere in the business. I wasn't awkward around guys. Actually, I've always found it easier to talk to guys than talk to girls. Guys for the most part are chill and not superficial. Girls are dramatic and always wanting to pick a fight somewhere. 

I sat in the chair, keeping my focus on myself. I didn't want to notice Harry walking over to me too much. I really didn't want to feel my heart pounding in my chest like it had the first time that I noticed him looking back at me. I wanted to be cool and collected when we spoke, not a flustered mess. As he was only inches behind me, he said my name for the first time. It sounded like absolute sex.

"Charlie?" Harry asks as he enters the kitchen, burying his cell phone into his back pocket.

His voice startles me, making me jump back letting go of the glass that I have in my hand. For the second time in less than an hour, we have another glass mess in the middle of the kitchen. This time it's not Harrys' fault, it's mine.

"Damn..." I whisper as I shake my head, putting my face into my hands.

"Oh, it's okay sweetheart. Let me get that sweepy thing..." Harry says as he walks past me, heading straight to the pantry.

"I'm such an idiot..." I groan as I look down at the pile of glass.

"No you're not..." He laughs as he exits the pantry with the same broom set that I held only minutes ago.

"Are you sure it was a good idea to marry me?" I ask, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Harry immediately looks at me, a serious look plastered across his face. I just look at him, tears welling in my eyes.

"Charlie? What's wrong?" He asks, setting the broom against the other counter.

"I don't know..." I cry, covering my face with my hand.

"Sweetheart..." He whispers, pulling me to his chest.

I cry even harder into his chest, his touch an automatic trigger. For the past two years I've considered the fact that maybe I'm not good enough for Harry. Not only because some of the fans think that and fill my Twitter with the words, but because I don't want to destroy his life with my past. I don't want to poison something, actually someone, with something of my own.

"I'm right here Charlie..." Harry whispers, running his hands up and down my back.

As I keep my head buried into his chest and my eyes closed tight, I go back to the day again. The day that I met Harry. The day that my life changed for the better and his possibly for the worst. That's how I viewed it at least. I know that he loves me. I know that he would do anything for me. I just don't ever want him to clean up a mess that I make.

Vote - Comment - Etc