Yours: a short story [harry styles] ✓

5

14th October 2017

MARNIE'S POV

"Trust you to get knocked up before your hen do." Elenore groaned; knocking back a shot of tequila...and then one more for good measure.

"Quit making it sound like a bad thing." I frowned at her. If she kept this pace up, she'd be on the floor before lunch. "I didn't do it on purpose." 

"It's not a bad thing." She sighed. "I can't wait to be an auntie again. I just could have really done with a drinking buddy today."

I laid the laminated list of mocktails down on the bar. Ele had booked a "Mocktail Class" for my hen do; followed by lunch at the Camden Street Food festival and then a twilight spa. We'd had afternoon tea the weekend before with other friends and family, and were now keeping up tradition by spending the "official hen do" as just the two of us. But she'd been down in the dumps for weeks.

"What's going on with you?" I asked softly. "I've never seen you sink so much tequila before midday."

She rolled the shot glass between her thumb and index finger; a deep grove etched between her perfectly shaped eyebrows—the results of a week's worth of YouTube tutorials, apparently. "Nothing really." She sighed. "Nothing at all."

"Hm." I exhaled. "That's the biggest load of shit I've ever heard. Why are you lying to me?"

Elenore was an idiot if she thought a) that I was going to drop this, and b) that I believed her. We were family. We'd been in each others lives long enough now to know when something was up. And something was clearly very up with her. 

"Where is this bloke?" She snapped, turning her attention to the rest of the room. The bar was packed considering it'd barely hit midday, but our instructor was notably absent. "We've been here twenty minutes already. It's your hen, for God's sake."

I half expected her to throw the shot glass down for good measure.

"Hey, relax! We're in no rush, Ele, and stop avoiding my question. What the hell is going on?" Worried was an understatement of how I felt. This was Elenore, after all. Loud and exuberant Ele. The girl who'd never been able to keep anything to herself since I'd known her. If something had been going on behind the scenes...why hadn't she told me?

I watched as she squeezed the life out of the small piece of glass; her thumb and index finger now drained white. "It's all my fault." She whispered eventually. "All my fault." 

In my haste to grab her hands, the laminated menu slid to the floor. Forgotten. Unimportant. I circled Elenore's slim wrists with my fingers and pulled her so that she was angled towards me. "What are you talking about?" I snapped in a slightly hysterical whisper. "Please tell me what's going on, Ele. I'm starting to freak out now." 

From underneath her eyelash extensions, Elenore's eyes widened. "Marn," she sobbed. "I think there's something wrong with me." 

HARRY'S POV

"Pass the bloody ball, Mitch!" I yelled from within my bubble between the goal posts, at the exact moment someone rebounded off of me and onto the AstroTurf.  "What—" 

"Fuck sake." Came Liam's muffled voice from behind the layer of transparent plastic. "I'm not going to be able to get up now." He wasn't wrong. Niall had tripped over his own feet at the three minute mark and was yet to get himself upright. 

Zorb football had apparently been Adam's suggestion, and despite being absolutely hilarious to take part in—neither team had managed to score in the thirty minutes we'd been playing.  Yet somehow, Mitch—who had next to nil football knowledge or experience—had spent most of the time hogging the ball.