Dealing With Absence » h. styles au

20ᵀᴴ CHAPTER

                                                   20ᵀᴴ CHAPTER               

                      “We often confuse what we wish for with what is” 

He doesn’t mean it to happen the next time it actually does.

His hands are busy carrying the paintings to the trashcan outside when the pictures come out of literally nowhere, the images scattering all over the floor, the rain falling steadily over them, over Harry’s own shoulders. And he didn’t mean to take more than a few seconds to get rid of those stupid memories in the shape of canvases, run outside in a blink of an eye and come back in before the rain could really leave a visible mark on him.

He’s got her pictures now, though. And she’s beautiful as ever, especially in the one where she’s stupidly young, features so soft and smile so naïve, moments back when both of them believed the world was fair and beautiful ahead of them, full of good surprises and easy obstacles to get over.

This time around, Harry has the decency to smile at the picture.

It’s the one he took literally minutes before their first kiss.

She’d looked incredibly happy, talking over and over about something she’d accomplished back then, something Harry would remember with all minor details if he tried enough. He’d smiled at her just as big, in the prime of his teenage years with so many plans in mind, so many wishes and such a lack of self-control.

He’d grabbed her by the wrists and walked her back until she ended up against the wall where he kept all his random posters, so important to him for some reason he cannot remember. But in that moment, he wouldn’t have bothered if they’d all torn apart from Chrissie’s touch, from the way he pressed her against them, how she moved frantically when his mother walked in on them.

He didn’t move an inch. She just pretended to try to get away. Anne left with a smile nearly as big as her son’s.

Harry didn’t miss one second of kissing her the moment they were left alone again.

He looks quietly at the picture, smiling shortly, and there’s a hand on his shoulder, curious eyes glancing at the picture before letting go of him and simply gesturing inside. Harry appreciates her so much. Appreciates the silence she gives him when naturally people would be bombarding him with questions, demanded answers.

When he walks in, already soaked, he takes none of the photographs with him.

--

The carwash is empty, has been for the past few hours, and today Harry can’t exactly see much movement coming around. His shift will be over in about an hour, and apparently until then he won’t do much more than sitting behind the counter and counting dust on it. But apparently it’s not a thing.

He gives up and stares at Luke instead, against the wall across to Harry, slumped over the floor with his eyes closed in a way that didn’t mean he was asleep a few minutes ago.

Harry’s not so sure now.

Tired and out of things to do, he stands up and grabs a pack of cigarettes with him, making a mental note to warn Edwin during dinner so he’ll charge it on Harry’s payment check. Outside is even colder than he predicted, the wind giving no respite, and as Harry leans against the wall with the lighter already in hands, ducking his head down so he can cup a hand around the fag to light it up, he doesn’t notice someone walking up to him.