Dark Matter (a Harry Styles fanfic)

Run

I lived for running.

I lived for the smack of cement beneath my feet, for the violent thumping of my heart against my ribs, for the droplets of sweat gathered between my breasts.

I had been running through Holmes Chapel's heavily wooded trails for years now, a daily habit of mine that had proved to be difficult since the induction of Harry’s fame into our lives. And for this reason, I favoured running at dawn.

Circling back towards home, I darted across the rickety plank of wood bridging its way over the small stream that seemed to surface late in spring each year, landing on the gravel with a soft thud. Winding down to a jog, the chorus of birds fresh from slumber was the only company I would have for the remainder of my trek home.

“.F-u.c-k- it.” I muttered under my breath, giving into temptation and sliding a menthol between my lips. It was far too cold of a morning to refuse myself this small pleasure. Emerging from the trails, I crossed onto the sidewalk, the sun beginning to peak over the clouds just as I bounded up the porch steps of my home.

Not quite finished with my cigarette, I entered the house anyways, certain that everyone would still be asleep. Gently shutting the front door behind me, I made my way into the kitchen, prying open the window over the sink and continuing to puff away on my smoke. The sun was baring its face at last, proving that the weather would be nothing short of perfect during our family barbeque taking place later that day. It would be perfect nonetheless however, solely based on the fact that Zayn Malik would be in attendance.

Zayn Malik; the boy that I gave my heart to, but also the boy that had no idea what to do with it.

Discarding of my sweater, I stood in only my black Nike sports bra, allowing the cool morning breeze to caress my bare arms and midriff. Nearly halfway out the window, my ears pricked at the distinct sound of footsteps padding their way towards the kitchen. Certain that it was my Mother, I took one final drag and flung the remainder of my cigarette out the window and into the flower box below, madly swatting at the air to disperse the plume of smoke surrounding my head.

Mid-yawn, my older brother Harry breezed into the kitchen, his curly brown hair pointing in all directions and his green eyes half-shut.

“Morning.” Harry greeted me lazily, meandering over to the fridge. Prying open the door, Harry poked his head inside, scratching his chest as he searched for the carton of orange juice as he did each morning.

“For f-u.ć.k.’s sake, Harry!” I growled in frustration, still wildly attempting to air out the kitchen. “I thought you were Mum!”

Harry smirked at me, leaning against the side of the fridge as he unscrewed the lid of the orange juice. “She’s going to catch you one of these days, you know.” Harry chastised me playfully, not bothering with a glass and taking a large gulp directly from the carton.

I gave Harry an annoyed smile. “As if I give a ŝ.h.i-t-.” I scoffed, propping myself up on the counter and letting my hair loose from the restraining ponytail at the crown of my head. “I’m practically a woman! I’m quite capable of making my own b.l.ǒ-ǒ-d.y decisions.” I added, swinging my feet back and forth.

“A woman?” Harry announced, his tone incredulous. “You’ve just turned nineteen, Odette. I’d hardly call that a woman.” He told me, returning the carton of orange juice to the fridge.

“Yes, a woman, Harry.” I insisted, reaching over to pluck a red apple from the fruit bowl. “If I lived in India I would’ve been married years ago and be on my third child by now.” I added with a pointed look before gnawing into the apple’s flesh.

Harry gave me an odd look. “Whatever you say, sis.” He announced in defeat, shaking his head to himself as he made his way over to the coffee maker. I watched in silence as Harry scraped the previous morning’s coffee from the filter, replacing it with a fresh batch.

“I didn’t tell you yet, but…” I trailed off, Harry lifting his green eyes when I didn’t continue. “Zayn’s coming tonight.” I concluded in a small voice.

Harry narrowed his eyes at me. “Really, Odette?” He announced in disbelief, his tone accusatory.

“It’ll be different this time, Harry!” I interjected, jumping slightly as Harry slammed the lid of the coffeemaker down.

“Which is what you say every time!” Harry exclaimed, whirling around to face me angrily.

I stared onwards at my brother, attempting to maintain my composure. “He always comes back to me, Harry.” I whispered, wanting him to understand so badly.

Harry took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Odette, Zayn is my best friend. I know him better than you can ever hope to.” He explained gently. “You’ll just end up getting hurt again, even if he doesn’t mean for it.”

My lower lip began to tremble, tears involuntarily rushing to the corners of my eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.” I spat, hopping off the counter and landing solidly on the balls of my feet. Shouldering past Harry, I just barely avoided his attempt to grab onto my wrist.

“Odette!” Harry called after me, his tone apologetic.

“Just stay out of it!” I screamed viciously over my shoulder, rushing out of the kitchen and slamming the door shut behind me. “T-o.s.s.e.r.” I muttered under my breath, kicking off my trainers and abandoning them by the front door.

Ascending the stairs two steps at a time, I headed straight for the loo, locking the door behind me. Leaning my head against the door, I let out a sigh of relief, already exhausted even though my day had just barely begun. Turning my head to the right, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. Staring back at me was a breathless nineteen year old girl, with disheveled shoulder length blonde hair and dark brown eyes. In dire need of a shower, I peeled off my sports bra, marveling at the pleasant sensation of cool air against my breasts. Shimmying out of my sopping leggings, underwear, and socks, I switched on the tap to the highest temperature I could manage. Emerging into the hot stream of water, I drove Harry’s words out of my mind and reminded myself that Zayn came back to me, and would always come back to me.