the writer // harry styles au

chapter 22

(A/N: Just wanted to say that I am so, so grateful for all of you guys reading this story! I always go back and read chapters and I seriously don't get why you guys like it so much! So all of the reads on this fic is a boost in confidence for me and my writing! If you have spotify, I would highly recommend listening to '99 songs to make your homework awesome' mix while reading! Anyway, happy reading!)

Alexis

Niall was, if I had to specify, quite the Irish man; always up for a drink and totally down for a bit of fun. I'd never felt so out of my depth with Niall. I hadn't expected him to be like this, so different to Harry. Harry looked awkward during the whole conversation, like he was ready to jump in whenever Niall might have let something slip. And at one point, he did.

"This lad" - Niall pointed towards Harry - "was a lovesick puppy over you."

Harry punched Niall's shoulder, causing Niall to whine in this adorably kiddy way. "Don't you dare, Horan. I work out."

Niall laughed. "I'm not scared of you, Styles."

Niall's eyes were bright with humour as he looked at Harry. Harry looked tense next to me. His legs were crossed and rested on the coffee table while his arms were crossed over his chest. He'd probably look great on a Sunday morning. Being a writer, he obviously liked to read, so he'd have the paper, a cup of tea steaming in his hand. He'd actually have the paper, hard copy, because nothing beats the print. He'd probably look so stern and smart but if I were to go over and trail my hand up his arm, kiss at his jaw, I think he'd be putty in my hand.

Niall continued, saying: "He fucking loves you, Lex. I'm going to call you Lex, by the way. Sounds cool. Anyway, he's in love with you, right? And this break, of what, a year?"

Harry had gotten up from next to me, walking behind the couch to Niall. I would be more concerned about the fact that Harry just pushes the poor guy of his seat, demanding he leave, but I couldn't get my mind off the love thing. We hadn't addressed that, not yet. Harry seemed beyond pissed about the mention of it. He shouldn't have been. I had known - I know I'm in love with Harry. I just can't say it.

I barely say it to my parents, sister, or Will. It makes me feel venerable, like someone could use it against me. It's such an easy weakness. If someone wanted to hurt me they would know how to hurt me right away. 

Harry came back from ushering Niall out the door. He stood in front of me, blank. I was blank, too, not sure of what the next move would be.

"Niall loves to twist a good story, you don't have to-"

"Do you?" I interrupt him. My eyes looked into his. His face fell, looking softer, full of innocence.

"Do I what?" he questioned.

"You know what," I said. I know he knows what I'm asking, and being ignorant is just wasting my time.

I won't deny the fact that I had seen it in his face, his actions. I had known that he wouldn't look at just anyone one that. He looked at me with so much love, so much admiration. I never wanted to think about it too much, though. I didn't want to get attached to his loving looks.

Harry slowly nodded, mumbling, "Yeah. In all naïvety."

I stood from the couch, walking around the coffee table, making my way over to Harry. When I was only inches away, I ran my hands around his neck, resting them at the back. I was only mildly scared to look up into his eyes this close. He would be able to see every emotion that passed through my face, every feeling of uncertainty and worry.

I focused on his lips, thinking about my original intention to just come up and kiss him. They were slightly parted, tongue rested on his bottom teeth. He did have the softest lips and I loved, loved kissing them.

I pressed my lips to his chest through his shirt. I moved my lips across the broad expanse, waiting for Harry to maybe say something. His hands came up and rested around my back, pulling me into him. I slowly kissed my way up to his jaw, his cheeks, and finally, I pressed my lips to his. Soft, sweet. It wasn't full of heat and passion, it was full of love and care. It was different to any kiss I'd ever had, always so boring and repetitive. This was a new kiss, an amazing kiss.

Harry pulled away, looking at me, he said, "You don't have to say anything. I know you do."

I shook my head, denying. "I do love you. I mean, I've never been in love before, but what I feel is something I haven't felt in my life, so it must be love."

He smiles at me, wide and toothy. He's never really smiled like that, with so much joy and happiness. He seems genuinely happy right now, and so am I.

As much as I didn't want this moment to end, it did, cut short by the sound of my phone ringing in my bag. I forcibly left Harry's warm arms and walked to my bag sat on the kitchen counter. It didn't occur to me that Will would call, which was stupid, because he always called in his lunch break.

I felt Harry creep up behind me. Arms wound around my waist and right at this moment, it really set in: how wrong this is, cheating on Will.

Harry hummed next to me. "Who is it?" he asked.

I hesitated, answering, "Will."

I felt his arms slightly loosen around my waist. "You should answer it."

I nodded, not knowing what to say to Harry. He sounded crushed.

"Hey," I answered the phone.

"Hey, Lex." Will's voice was sullen. Something wasn't right.

"What's wrong? You sound morbid." I tried to joke around, but it was obviously the wrong thing to do.

"Mum died." Oh, God.

"Will." I was never good with being sympathetic. I always felt like I was saying the wrong thing, somehow coming off as rude or insensitive.

"Can you come to my work building? Pick me up? I just need you right now."

I felt horrible. I was the worst person in the world. Cheating on my boyfriend when his mother's just died. It's like I'm the biggest sin I could commit has been presented to me right on a platter.

"Yeah, yeah. You want something to eat? I can pick up some sushi or-"

"No, no," he interrupted. "I just want you, Lex."

I was going to cry. I felt awkward, in this position; stuck between two amazing boys, one with a dead mother and the other with my heart.

"I'll be there soon, Will."

He huffed on the other side of the phone. I knew that huff. I knew it meant he was about to cry; it was his way of holding in the tears. "I love you," he said. I broke at the sound of his tender voice. I knew I didn't just love Harry, and this declaration only made that clear. I may not be utterly, totally insanely in love with him, but I was, in a way, in love with him. Only certain things, like his smile in the morning with his squinty eyes or, like right now, when he said I love you with so much love.

I shouldn't say this with Harry here, still with arms around my waist. But I do it - I can't not. "I love you, too."

In a sudden, Harry's arms drop from my body and I can hear his footsteps walk away from me. I know I should console him, tell him it's not like the way I love him, but I don't have time.

I hang up the phone and, much to my own protest, I walk out Harry's front door and make my way to Will.

(A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! Don't forget to vote and comment!)