hero ➳ h.s.

chapter nine

Indigo stared up at the wonder in front of her- Harry Styles- holding her snotty Kleenex and smiling sadly, in the way only he could. He helped her to her feet and then repeated his question, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

The truth was, she didn't. She really didn't. She didn't want to waste her time talking about something that could never be changed. "Not really. There's no point- it can't be helped."

"What, this?" Harry gestured towards the mess of the C.C. and the bleak horizon beyond. "You think that can't be helped?"

Indigo glared at him and took the Kleenex once more, blowing her nose and then letting out an exasperated sigh. "It can't, can it? I mean, look at this. It's an awful mess- and it's darn right not very free." A tear slid down her cheek. "So you were right, weren't you?"

Indigo, embarrassed at her sudden tears, turned and put her back to Harry. "Freedom is a past art," she admitted. "I've always known it. I've just never wanted to admit it."

There was a stunned silence before Indigo heard Harry's rubber boots slush through the mud and felt his hand fall on her shoulder softly. "It's okay, right? We all learn things. All the time. Don't sweat it."

Indigo turned back and smiled at him; a tired, teary and messy smile that took Harry back within one fragment of time; one tangible moment. They had been lying on her floor, doodling on each other's arms when Indigo had given him a similar smile.

"It's not going to last, you know that, right?" she had asked as she held a permanent Sharpie in her fingers.

And Harry knew she wasn't talking about the Sharpie.

--

Harry drove Indigo home- after arguing about it for at least a good half hour, he just got in the drivers seat and turned on some good Parachute music, to which Indigo promptly complained about. ["Are you kidding me? Coldplay, man. Not Parachute. Coldplay."] But Harry knew she was just teasing.

"So you didn't think it was like this? The C.C.'s?" Harry said softly once a lull in the conversation showed. 

"No," she answered honestly. "I thought it was-" her voice faltered. It was then Indigo realized that she never knew what it was.
                        She never stopped to think about it.

"I understand," Harry responded. He pointed out the journal Indigo was fingering. "Is that yours?"

"No, my mothers."

There was silence once more in the little yellow car. Indigo sighed and stared out the window, and Harry shifted in his seat.

Suddenly, Indigo spoke. "Would you like me to read you my favorite entry?"

He cast a look at her; guarded, almost unsure of what kind of territory this was. "Yes," he spoke truthfully; hushedly, as if one would around a sleeping baby.

Indigo cleared her throat and began.

"I promise you
I will try harder 
to be better. 
I have battled
with things
inside me
for longer than
you know; 
I do not know
what they are
or why they
are there, 
I only know
that they feel 
manageable, 
defeatable, 
when I am
around you.
because I
have heard it
said that
men can only
be a lover or
a fighter.
but then I
always think
to myself, 
"I am both."
for what good
is love if it
isn't worth
fighting for?"

--

Indigo and Harry reached her home soon enough- a huge expanse of brick and flowers that made Harry quirk an eyebrow and wink at Indigo. "Upper class," he commented.

"Oh, shut it," Indigo retorted- still shaken from the C.C., and got out of the car. "Listen, thanks for driving me home. It-" she paused, biting her lip. "It means a lot."

"Hey, it's not a problem. Any time." Harry smiled before digging in his pocket and handed Indigo a small white card. "That's my card. If you ever need anything, let me know." 

Indigo smiled. She could read between the lines. She understood what Harry was saying. If you ever need a friend, let me know.

Harry nodded, then turned to go. He had taken at least seven steps before Indigo called out, "Harry!"

He turned, hope in his eyes. "Thank you," she said softly, before turning and walking up to her porch.

The card was simplistic and modern, with the clear print of a law firm written on it:

                                                OT5 LAW FIRM
                                           3499 BIRCH AVENUE
                    HORAN, PAYNE, TOMLINSON, MALIK, STYLES
                                     OUR BUSINESS IS YOURS.

--

Zayn met Harry at the door when he returned from dropping Indigo home. "Well? How did it go? Are we going to have an insider or not?"

Harry's green eyes met the chocolate-caramel eyes of his opponent. "Soon, Zayn. Soon."

--

gosh i hope everyone's enjoying this!

dedicated to @alytav9 for her awesomeness. :)