Finer Things // h.s.

Merry Fucking Christmas

I think I'm gonna be sick... or yell... maybe laugh? I feel a surge of emotions pouring from my body. From my brain. From my heart. The call I missed eight months ago was him. It was from Harry. I'd quite literally forgotten about that call.

If steam could come from my ears like the characters in Looney Tunes, I don't doubt the car windows would be foggy. I can feel my heartbeat in my chest. Trying to escape and throw itself onto the highway. I could cry. Why was he calling? After two years of zero contact. After two years of wondering what could've happened to make him dismiss our friendship.

He called me.

"Are you okay, Tilly? You've gone a bit pale, love." Dad says to me, one hand on the wheel, the other scratching his beard.

"Do we have any water?" I ask feeling faint.

"Yeah just in my backpack. Love, lay your head back. Is it the jetlag?" He asks.

"Something like that..." I respond, looking out the window as we pull into the driveway.

I get out of the car and the smell of England makes me feel better. The confusion is still there but the queasiness isn't. It's hard to describe it but England has a smell. Home has a smell. The trees blow a soft wind in my direction and I notice the slush on the ground from where the snow fell and melted the night before. The air is crisp, the smell of snow lingering in the air. I have missed home so much.

"Anne is going to be so excited to see you and Gemma has come home for the holidays. Everyone's coming home tonight! The whole family." He says almost jumping up and down as we unpack my things.

When mum died, Dad felt lost. He had me but his family is from Wales, so we never really see them. Mum's family live abroad so until we met the Styles/Twists it was just the three of us. Dad considers Anne his sister and Gemma a second daughter. He always loved Harry; they just don't speak anymore but I guess that's the case with most of us regarding that boy.

"What do you mean everyone?" I ask him, evaluating his choice of wording.

"I mean everyone." He says nervously. I guess it's just been a while since we were all in one place.

"Is Harry coming home?" I ask matching his nervousness.

"Don't know, Love." He says. He kisses my forehead and tells me to get some sleep. We won't be leaving for dinner until 7.

I take a shower, not bothering to wash my hair. It was styled for filming only yesterday so there's no point. I get into old PJ's I find in my drawers, slipping on a Zeppelin oversized tee shirt and a pair of grey track pants and get into bed. My eyes fall heavy and I feel myself relax.

Home.

February 14th, 2006

"Slow down!" Harry calls out after me.

My gumboots slush in the mud, turning their bright red colour into a dirty brown but I don't mind. My hair sways behind me as I run down to the small forest outside Harry's house.

"Never! You catch up slowpoke!" I yell, turning and jogging backwards to face him. I watch as he trips over himself, arms flailing in the air.

The air feels crisp and the gentle breeze rustles at the trees above my head.

I stop at a tree and lean against it holding my breath, careful not to show him I am also extremely puffed out. I look up at the sky as the clouds from above disperse, leaving a blue sky.

I laugh at him as he runs up to me, stopping a few meters away from me, one hand on the tree, the other on his knee as he hunches over trying to catch his breath.