Part twenty-one

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The beginning of this chapter goes back to the night of Harry's party, a scene that I didn't show before.

Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to comment and vote <3

Magnolia

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The night of the party...

After the kickback of a multitude of drinks, I stumbled around the setting. I wasn't completely trashed but definitely getting there. And with the intensity in the air, I felt the need to drink more.

I hadn't felt this warm buzz in a while, and I mean like a year. I forgot how addicting it felt to be drunk. The stress was mostly just an apparition, buried under the surface where I wanted it to be. I realize how dangerous it could be getting back to drinking again, but I know... I hope I wouldn't let myself go far enough down that road again.

I couldn't... Not after what happened last time.

"Hey, Styles!" I holler, he grins at me. With a playful expression furrowing his brows. I pierce my lips, breaking into a devious smile.

"Magnolia," He greets, his shades covering the one thing I wanted to look at. He's slumped on the couch, probably high out of his mind.

"Whatcha doing?" I tease, rocking over and sitting next to him.

"Pondering the meaning of life." He says in a serious tone, then drops the act with a smirk. "Hmm, sounds like fun..." I poke

"So, tell me Styles what's the meaning of life?" I bargain, having a rough time not smiling like a lunatic.

"I dunno, question of the millennia." Harry broods, he seems relaxed. Goofier than normal with the addition of his recurring sharp-tongue. "Now let me ask you a question cherry pie..." He grins, biting the edge of his lip which has fake blood strain down the corners. "Go on Mr quarterback ask me a question," I egg him on, resting my chin in my two hands.

"Do you know who you are?" He comes on strong, I go silent and he keeps the silly undertone.

"Do you know who you are?" I turn it back on him, dodging the question. He tuts shaking his head with disappointment.

"I asked you the question first honey bear..." Harry groans shrewdly.

"Hmmm, I think I'm too drunk to answer that complex of a question... Why couldn't you just ask what my favorite color is?" I play dumb, trying to get on his nerves.

It was yellow but a certain green is growing on me.

"Go on Meg, I'm waiting..." He doesn't give up, holding a stern face.

I bit my lip, turning my head at him. He lifts his sunglasses up to his hair. Letting me once and for all see his green eyes. Harry stares with intent, glossy eyes that made my stomach do flips like a fucking gymnast. I flush, looking down.

My words swarm my brain, the deciding to flow out. "It's a subjective question don't you think. Cause if even if I did know who I was it's always changing. So you couldn't a hundred percent say at your core who you are..."

"Ooo, you're getting philosophical on me pippy... I like it. Though I rather you just answer the question," He pesters, twirling the blonde strands of my hair between his fingers. I nearly jumped at the subtle brush of his rings against the skin of my neck. The dark asking look he has in his eyes.

"Do you know who you are?'" I repeat the question, biting my cheek in deep thought. He plays with my hair, further flustering my core.

"Well do you? Cause I sure as hell don't." I detour, then answer it as best as I know. He turns his head at me, examining the center of my eyes. I gulp, staring at his lips.

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