P.S. (Please Stay)

One

Ever since he was a child, Harry Styles had loved Christmas. The holidays — and the presents that ensued — always excited children, but for Harry, it was more than just the toys under the tree. There was something magical about the season, something that made miracles seem possible, more than any other time of the year. It was silly and childish, but the belief of the magic of the season was something he held deep in his heart. He hadn't ever experienced the Christmas miracle he believed in, but little did he know, he would.

Despite the hustle of the city, a serene sense of seasonal charm still lingered in the streets. Jaded New Yorkers kept their heads up and their pace quick as they weaved through the streets, but even the most sophisticated resident couldn't help but smile at a child in a Santa hat.

On this particular day, just four days before Christmas Eve, the lazy December sun was brilliant and bright on the city. The snowbanks glittered, like diamonds on a cloud, and the last-minute holiday shoppers had a skip in their step as the murky grey sky made way for the luminous light.

Harry wasn't a tardy shopper. Amazon Prime delivered his gifts weeks ago. However, the sunshine made it difficult to spend the day inside. He avoided tourist traps during the holidays, but when the entire city looked like a snow globe, it was easy to get into the spirit without joining the crowds.

He left his apartment and wandered through Tribeca, keeping to the side streets as he admired the Christmas displays in store windows. After meandering through the narrow streets, he happened upon a small coffee shop. The only thing that would have him feeling more festive would be a peppermint latte.

Harry stepped into the small, brick cafe and stomped the snow from his boots as the warm scent of pastries and coffee greeted him. He was the only patron in the shop, but he wouldn't let that deter him.

He ordered a coffee, asking for it to go before changing his mind and requesting a mug. The sunshine was beautiful, but the Christmas ambiance in the restaurant was cosy and inviting.

Harry settled into a warm leather chair beside the window and sipped his coffee while he watched the city go by. He was halfway through his drink when a commotion at the entrance caused him to look up. A gaggle of young kids — at least four, with more behind — burst into the cafe, their piercing voices echoing through the quiet store.

He sighed. Harry liked kids well enough, but their loud, excited voices and bountiful energy would impede his quiet coffee. He wished he'd brought headphones, but if he had, he wouldn't have caught the sound of her laugh.

The jubilant, loud laugh echoed through the cafe, permeating his soul and awakening memories that were long forgotten. Her laugh was like hearing an old song, remembering the lyrics as though the song only just played yesterday. The sweet sound kindled memories of a summer gone and the time he spent with the only woman he'd ever loved.

Harry sat frozen on their chair, motionless as he searched past the children to see her face. Her back was to him, but there was no question it was her. She laughed again; the sound aching his core. He remembered when he was the reason for that sound.

He watched her as she stepped away from her group, perusing the glass case filled with pastries. Sliding in his chair, Harry tucked himself into the cushion and hid as he watched her. After a moment he stood, feeling out of body as he strode across the cafe. Desperate to swim in the tide waters of his past, Harry hesitated for half of a moment before speaking.