Rain | Harry Styles

3.8

'then i think of the start, and it echoes a spark.'

(flicker - niall horan)

this is far too short & i'm sorry 

-

H.

The timezone was a pain to get used to again, suddenly an irrational eight hours behind the GMT I'd become accustomed to. But I wasn't in Manchester, and I'd slept. That was what mattered, I suppose - there was no drink, no pill, and no force. I slept for a total of three hours, and though it wasn't even nearly enough, it was a vast improvement from the amount I'd been getting in England. I slept in this house - and I put it down to the surroundings. Here there was no bad memories; no fearful or evil connotations, and there was no hurt. Even with Liam's dad, Geoff, suffering so badly - they didn't show the pain. They had their family, and that seemed to be enough for them. 

Despite the fact I hadn't stayed in the old house in Manchester - it was something about knowing, knowing Mum was there and knowing what had happened to her between those very walls, and behind the closed doors. I knew it all, but the thing I wish I didn't know - was that he was around.

Though Louis had told me Ken was in Seattle so many months ago, we'd never determined how long he'd be staying, or if he was even really here at all. Louis could have easily been lying - something I realised as I looked back on it, now - but what if he wasn't? What if Ken was back in Seattle? I wasn't scared of him, but I desperately wanted to avoid any kind of confrontation with him. I had nothing to say to him, I wanted him to just fuck off. But then, if he did - came the undeniable fear that he'd go back to Manchester, back to the house - back to where Mum was. And that I wouldn't be able to fix the pieces this time.

I blew out a breath, stuffing my shitty excuse of a replacement phone into the back pocket of my jeans and pushing my sunglasses back into my hair to keep it out of my face. I ran my hand over my jaw and my chin, before reaching forward to push open the door belonging to the rustic cherry red exterior of my favourite place in the world where I knew I could get some peace.

"Hugo," I sent him my best smile, my tired eyes making it difficult as he looked up from his desk, his eyes widening.

"Well would you look at that!" he limped from behind the desk to stand in front of it, "Harry Styles is back in Seattle!" he exclaimed, grabbing my hand to pull me into a tight hug of some kind as I tried not to tense my shoulders too awkwardly.

"Hi," I smiled politely, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans, sending him a frown as I noticed the limp, "Leg playing up again?"

"Ah," he brushed it off, "No more than usual, son - don't you worry about it. You back in town for good?"

"I don't think so," I said honestly, "I'm visiting with my mate Liam for a month or two. I'm kind of just playing it by ear at the moment."

"Fair enough," he nodded, leaning on the counter for some support as I eyed him carefully, "Well, do you need something? I think your favourite is out at the moment.." he trailed off thoughtfully, and I shook my head slightly confused. Hugo not only sold books, but he leant them out every so often - Pride and Prejudice was never available to be bought; only borrowed. But it never, ever went out apart from when it was in my hands.

"Pride and Prejudice is out?" I frowned, "That's odd."

"It's been out quite a lot since you were gone," he said slowly, as I failed to piece the pieces together.

"Strange," I remarked dismissively, brushing it off, "I thought I could help out a bit around here, you know? If you're looking for someone to work - I dunno, it might help take the edge off a bit?" I almost asked, as he began to nod.