CLOSER | H.S.

57.

"You've got my devotion."

Harry Styles — Fine Line

It all felt like a long honeymoon to Valerie as the days went by and she had absolutely nothing to worry about. She would look at the person beside her and see family, someone that took her so long to get to know, to break down the walls, to recognize herself when she looked into his eyes. The pain within her soul would take a break once he was present — and that's the danger of it. She had an addiction tapping over her shoulder, she had an undiagnosed case of depression to deal with — Hell, she had killed a man. Two men. Or even distant things such as her mother treating her as an adult ever since she was a child and never spearing a hug, things that don't bother an adult as much as it used to. All of those things that brought her fragile mind into the abyss would come back to the surface once he left.

Understandably, her days were still revolving around him. She had nothing for herself, although she had everything for herself. Valerie would spend most of the day alone inside of that huge house, waiting for Harry to come home and rescue her from herself. She tried to pass the time trying to level up her cooking skills, so she'd always be waiting for him with the dinner ready. This soon became too much as she slowly turned into something she knew early in her adolescence she didn't want to be, midst watching her own mother dig a grave she could not get herself out of. Someone's traditional wife.

She would love the days when someone would come up to clean the house. Harry hired three women to take care of his mess and they would come up once a week to work and keep Valerie company. By the end of the month, Valerie was sending goods to their daughters and receiving a bag full of biscuits in return. But other than that, Harry was everything she had in that city — and that turned into an unhealthy relationship for her.

It became clear that she needed a job. Although Harry was rich, Valerie wasn't comfortable with living under his wing — she had always been an independent woman and things were not about to change just because she had to lay low so she doesn't get killed by mob dealers. It was time she made major changes in her life.

Coming into terms that she wouldn't become a dancer hurt. She had spent her whole life dedicating herself to that and there were no advances in her career since she was eighteen. Knowing that the one thing she was sure about her life wasn't possible hurt. Everything became so overwhelming she would cry every day, but never let Harry see it. She was ashamed of something she didn't quite know what. It's just that feeling of insecurity, thinking someone would love you less if they knew you were broken. One night she didn't hear Harry coming home so he caught her off guard, lying on the sofa, staring at the TV and balling her eyes out.

"Hey, what's up?" He immediately left his things on the floor and sat on the corner of the sofa where she laid. Valerie made an attempt to hide her tears, but it was already too late. She had to own them now.

"I-", she tried to say something, tell him one good reason for her to be crying about. But she couldn't pick one between the many, it would be like choosing your favorite child.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it", he caressed her big head of curls as his deep voice soothed her. "Just know that I'm here." Harry lied next to her and engulfed her in his arms, his cologne lasting the entire day of work and his clothes smelling of the different people he was in touch with. He smelt of business. Valerie wondered how it must feel to just have your shit together as he did.

When August came, Harry's time with her became limited. There were nights he spent at his office and most days he left at six. A huge collection was coming up and he had to deliver it if he wanted to keep his father's name intact in the industry. The pressure to do something better was fuel to him. The critics writing that he could never be as good as his father made the blood in his veins run hotter. By the time he sent the clothes to confection — and Harry, as a great professional, was there every day to coordinate and make sure everything is exactly as he wanted — he was sure that it would be the greatest. He had never let himself show in a collection so much, because, in fact, he had never let it show even through himself. He was a man of appearances, but Valerie was always there to support him at his every bold decision. She made him want to be himself, she was there to tell him how beautiful he looked in a choker or a glittery jacket or a satin shirt or even all of them at the same time.