the writer // harry styles au

chapter 11

Harry

"My relationships make more sense than that."

"You've never had a relationship."

"Exactly."

I'm staring at Zayn. He was sat on my expensive couch, cigarette in his mouth, dropping the ash onto my floor instead of the ash tray. The man's probably going to die of lung cancer the way he's going. He's an amazing writer, though. Heart and soul poured in his novels about people. Just normal people. He's sort of a lifestyle novelist, with a twist of every genre of literature in his writing. He's quite brilliant.

"Look, you think you love her, had sex with her after 2 real dates and 1- what- meeting? Pathetic begging? Maybe it is love, or she's just really easy," Zayn said.

"She's not easy," I defended.

"Sure, because she didn't make you pull over so she could blow you in the back or your car."

"Point taken. But she's still not easy."

"Maybe Alice isn't easy, but Alexis is."

"Wait, you picked up on that?"

"Who wouldn't. They even have names starting with the same letter."

Alexis wasn't easy. Alice wasn't easy. Alexis wasn't Alice. They're two different, fictional and non-fictional people. I kept finding it hard to differentiate between the both of them. My mind was a mess. Alice is doing something in the book, then I want to call Alexis and then think she's Alice and that she's busy but she's not, so I wouldn't call. I'm going insane.

"Stop writing for a bit. Like, 6 months. Take a break, date Alexis, maybe a few other girls? Just get the book out of your system before it's all you think about. It will get to that point, you know? All writers get there. Writing the first few chapters is hard, you're setting the scene, and then you're at the bits you were waiting to write. You keep thinking about if you could make the plot even bigger, more dramatic, the best literary read ever. Just don't get to that point before you sort out your fucked up relationship."

I stared at him for a while, falling back deeper into the couch. "Okay. Yeah. I'll do that. Take a break, date Alexis. Only Alexis."

"Hey! Good on you. Look, I'll just sweep this shit under your couch and I'll be off," Zayn said, sitting up on the couch.

He stood, sweeping the ash from the floor and under the couch with his battered boot, and then off he went.

***

"Harry," I hear Alexis' voice from the other side of the line.

"Alexis," I said.

"Calling to get me to read your book?" she said.

I hesitate. "No, I've put that on hold."

She let's out a huff of air, like she's relieved. "Oh, too bad. Why're you calling then?"

"Do you want to come over?"

"Yes."

The line went dead.

***

Alexis is half lying on my body, arm wrapped around my middle and head in my nook. She smells amazing, not sporting some cheap perfume. It's classy. Very Alexis.

There's nothing on the tv. No sounds but our steady breaths fill the house. I love it. And I know I probably shouldn't have done this, and that all relationships are given goals and guidelines, and that we've basically broken all of them. I was supposed to wait until the third date before we had sex; I shouldn't (can't) fall in love with a person after so little dates. Maybe I'd done all those things wrong, but I don't care. I felt like I knew this girl and everything about her.

Alexis was moving in my arms, probably trying to get comfortable. Well, that's what I'd thought.

"I'm going to head off," she said, pulling herself from my arms.

"Yeah? What's wrong?" I questioned. I didn't want her to leave.

"Nothing, it's just late, you know? Got to sleep, then head off to work tomorrow. Not all of us work wherever we want to at what ever time suits," she said. She smiled, trying to tone down the harsh-ness of the comment. Maybe she's a sarcastic soul. 

I watched her move over to her coat that was hung from the back of a love seat. I watched her hips move as she navigated through the small spaces between the couches and coffee tables. It's all I can do: drink her in.

"You can sleep here. My sister sometimes stays here when she's in town for work and keeps some of her corporate clothes in the guest wardrobe," I basically pleaded; I was pathetic.

"I appreciate the offer - I really do - but my bed and flat just seem like the better option."

She moved over to me, bending down and placing a chaste kiss to my lips. She smiled at me after, letting her hand fall down the right side of my face.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said.

"Goodnight, Alice."

A/N: I am so sorry this update is so short!! I'm finding it super hard to keep this story interesting!! But thank you guys for 120 reads, it's more than I thought it'd get (this story sucks). I hope you'd enjoying though!!