Fallingforyou - The 1975

HARRY

The dinner rush at the diner had dispersed a few hours ago, leaving the me with a shit ton of unwashed dishes and a group of half-drunk teenagers in the back corner. Erin had left an hour ago, claiming that I will be fine to clean and lock up on my own. 

Honestly, I didn't care. I was perfectly fine with closing up the diner. The more cash I could make the better, especially since I will be driving back up to Manchester for the Christmas holiday. Fuck, I had to do that tomorrow. The idea of driving up, in this fucking thunderstorm, was not something I was looking forward to. In fact, I was ready to tell my precious mother and her moron husband that I wasn't going to come up. 

However, as much as I wanted to do that, I didn't want to stay here in London. Especially since Isabella wasn't here. 

It has been almost three weeks since she last texted me, since we last talked. I thought that her flirty text messages were some sort of sign that she was ready to move on from her stuck up boyfriend and maybe be with me, but clearly I was wrong. If I have to fucking hear Chase talk to Ben one more time about their fucking Skype conversations, I was going to fucking lose it. She was screwing with my mind. I had no idea how she felt about me, or if that kiss was just a spur of the moment thing. I knew that I fucking felt something for her. I was done denying it. It was now up to her and whether or not she wanted to be with me. But until then, I'm not going to fucking sit around and pine after a girl. I am not like that and I will never fucking be like that. 

Speaking of Ben, he would be driving up tomorrow too. He offered to drive up together, but the thought of being in a car with him for four hours was not appealing one bit. 

"Excuse me, but how can I get a coffee around here?" A soft voice asks. I look up from my spot at the counter. Hanna is sitting at the counter, her blonde hair hidden by a knitted toque. I smirk up at her, grabbing a mug from under the counter, and pouring the hot liquid inside. 

"Here you go," I pass the mug towards her. She offers a thankful smile before slipping her small hands around the mug, and bringing it up to her lips. She takes a quick sip before placing it back down. 

"Hey stranger," she greets. Her eyes are shining in the incandescent glow. 

"Hey to you too." 

We look at one another for a few minutes before she reaches her small hand out and places it on top of my own. "I've missed you," she says quietly. I flip my hand over so that my palm is facing up. She takes this as a cue to intertwine her fingers with mine. I begin to rub the pad of my thumb across her soft skin, earning a deep blush to appear on her cheeks. "Why haven't you been answering my calls?" 

"I've been busy." I answer curtly. The truth being, I didn't want to talk to her. I was too busy being pussy whipped and hoping Izzy would be with me. But I was done with that. 

Her eyes look down to the table, "Oh." 

I watch her as she bites down on to her lip. "What are you doing tonight?" 

Hanna looks up at me, her eyes widening slightly. She bites onto her lip as she thinks for a moment. Her pink lips open up, allowing her soft voice to speak up. "Nothing," she giggles softly. 

I let go of her hand and walk over to her side of the counter. I turn her around so that her back was now leaning against the table. My legs stand on either side of her body and my hands leaning against the table on either side of her head. My body has trapped her small one, making it a lot easier to keep her in place. "Wanna go back to your place?" I ask her, my voice coming out deeper than intended. I watch as a chill runs over her body, earning a smirk from my lips. 

"Um, sure," she stutters slightly. I brush my lips against her neck and up towards her ear. I bite down on her porcelain skin earning a small, quiet moan to escape her lips. 

"I'm done here in five minutes. I'll close up and we can leave." 

"Okay." She whispers, her eyes screwed shut. 

A few minutes later, we are walking out of the diner and towards my car. I open the passengers side door for her allowing her to quickly slip in. 

The drive to her apartment is quick. Once we get there, we run out of my car and through the heavy rain. She opens her first floor apartment door and shuts it quickly after I walk in. The moment the door shuts, my arms wrap around her body and am pulling her in for a heated kiss. 

She pulls my jacket off. 

I slip her out of her jeans. 

Her lips are full of lust as they kiss my chest. 

I throw her against the wall, wrapping her bare legs around my torso.

It is a frenzy of legs, sheets, and moans. 

Hanna's hair is fanned out under her and against the pillows. Her naked skin is burning under my kiss. My hands wrap around her waist as my lips leave kisses down her chest, stomach, and towards her hip bones. 

"Harry," she moans as I thrust into her quickly. My lips meet her neck as I move in and out of her in quick motions. Her fingers have become entangled by my curls. She tugs on them as I bring us closer to our highs. Her body convulses in pleasure under my touch bringing me to my climax. "Ugh," she screams out once more. I pull out from beneath her, pulling the condom off and throwing it into her bedside bin.

"Fuck," I groan as I lay down beside her. 

"That was - wow." She giggles. I smirk at her before I roll to the side of her bed and grabbing my boxers from her floor. 

"Where are you going?" 

"Home." I answer her, before throwing my clothes back on. 

"Wait, that's it? You're not going to stay the night?" 

"No." 

I grab my boots and jacket, putting them on quickly. "I have to drive back home tomorrow." I explain. She nods her head in understanding, but is terrible at hiding her disappointment. "I'll call you when I come back or something." I mutter, before turning around and towards her door. 

"Merry Christmas, Harry." She calls out from her bed. 

"Yeah, you too." I say before walking out of her bedroom and out of her place. 

- 

The next morning, my eyes fight to stay open. It is way too fucking early for a four hour drive. I pour myself another mug of tea, sipping it quickly. I run my hands through my messy curls before I pull on a black beanie and on my black coat. The rain continues to pelt down, hitting the windowsill in Ben's kitchen. 

"Are you leaving now?" I turn around to see Ben standing at the entranceway. He has his suitcase in his one hand and an umbrella in another. 

"Yeah," I answer shortly. I pick up my duffle bag and wallet. 

"Chase and I are going to grab some breakfast before we leave. Do you want to come?" 

I stop in my tracks, turning around to face Ben. "Chase is coming?" 

"Yeah. His parents are going to the Bahamas for Christmas, so he's going to stay with us." 

"Fucking hell," I mutter under my breath. 

"I know you don't fucking like him, but he's my best mate."

"He's a prick." I retort. 

"You're just saying that because he's dating Izzy." He smirks. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" My voice begins to raise, his words sticking to me. How the hell did he know about Iz and I. If there was one thing that I was very careful of, that was showcasing my feelings. I hated expressing my feelings, telling people about my feelings - anything regarding feelings, really, I steered clear away from. 

"Oh don't even pretend like you don't like her." Ben walked over to the kitchen, pulling a glass out of the cupboard. He opens up the kitchen, pulling out a pitcher of orange juice and pours himself a glass. "You're just lucky that Chase is a bit slow. He hasn't caught onto it yet. But if I were you, I'd back off." 

"There's nothing going on between Isabella and I." My eyes don't meet his. I keep them focused on the mug in my hands. My knuckles have turned white, a direct result of the firm grip that I have on the mug. 

"Bullshit," he laughs. He's fucking laughing at me. 

"What the fuck are you talking about Ben." At this point, my voice has grown in volume. I can feel my anger growing with each passing second. It was too damn early for this kind of conversation. 

"I don't know about her, but I can see it all over your face when she is around. You get all doe-eyed around her." He says, taking another sip from his glass. 

I walk over to the sink and throw the mug into it. I walk back over to where my duffle bag sits, picking it up and placing my wallet into my back pocket. "I'm out of here," I mutter. 

"Don't walk away now," I can sense Ben walking behind me but I ignore him. This conversation was over. "Haz-"

"Don't fucking call me that again." I yell, my body growing tense. Ben throws his arms up in defeat, backing away from me. 

"Sorry," he mutters, his eyes shifting down to the ground. "I'll see back at home." 

"Yup." I walk out the door, slamming the door shut behind me. 

- 

Christmas. Fucking hell, I was already done with this holiday. 

My mothers house was decorated in an elaborate array of Christmas decorations.  White lights had been slathered on to the outside of the house, creating a bright glow around it. Inside isn't any better. 

A seven foot tree sits in the downstairs living room. It has been wrapped with tinsel, white lights, and red and gold bulbs. Underneath is packed with presents. Mother sits in front of the fireplace, her body dressed in an expensive red gown. Her husband sits beside her, in black slacks and a white dress shirt. 

Ben and Chase are sitting on a couch across from the fireplace. Both are wearing clothes that cost more than my car. They are busy drinking expensive wine and talking about god-knows-what with Mark. 

I look down at my black sweater and skinny jeans, feeling out of place immediately. The moment that I stepped into this fucking house, I felt out of place. Everything that was here cost more than everything that I owned combined. It was the epitome of all that I stood against - wealth, power. It was the epitome of every prima donna form grade school that I fought. I hated coming here. I hated being in this house, in this city, near these people. But I couldn't stand hearing my mother cry on the phone because I hadn't seen her in months. 

"Samantha," Mark's voice breaks me out of my thoughts as he calls for my mother. Her green eyes look up from her book, the glow of the fireplace kissing the side of her face. "Dinner was lovely." He compliments. 

She smiles sweetly at her husband, her voice soft as she thanks him. Mark looks over at me, his face blank. "Now, Harry. What have you gotten yourself into in London?" 

"I work." My answer is short, not possessing the need to go into any more details about my life with him. 

"Ah, you managed to get yourself a job? Do share." He asks, his voice laced with a mockery tone. 

"I work at diner." I can hear Chase chuckling to himself. My body grows rigid and my fists itching to punch his arrogant face. 

"A diner? Really," he laughs. My mother shoots Mark a warning look in which he ignores. 

"Yep." I take another swig from the whiskey in my cup, accepting the burn that it leaves as it trails down my throat. 

"Boy, you are wasting your life. Go to school and get a real job." My head shoots up, my eyes glaring into his brown ones. 

"Mark, stop." 

"Dear, I'm just saying, our son is lazy."

"I'm not your fucking son," I yell as I stand up from my seat, my anger descending by the minute. 

Mark stands up as well, his eyes now glaring into me. "I have been more of a father to you these past sixteen years, than your father has been all twenty-two years of your life."

"Fuck this." I gulp down the remaining drops of my whiskey, before throwing the cup back down and onto the coffee table. Mother jumps in her seat, startled by my sudden outburst. "Sorry mum," I say before turning around and walking out of that room and out of that fucking house. 

Merry fucking Christmas. 

-

My eyes flutter open the next morning. A headache pounding to the surface as I awaken. I look around at my surroundings, taking in my childhood bedroom. The walls are a plain grey. The only photograph being of my grandfather and I when I was ten, a few weeks before he died. 

I roll out of my bed, the cold air grazing my skin. I look down at my boxer clad body and quickly pull on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. The house is quiet as I walk out of the door and down the stairs. Muffled voices could be heard as I walk towards the kitchen. 

Chase and Ben are sitting in the kitchen. Their voices stop as they notice my presence. "Oh, don't stop your girly gossip on my account." I smirk. I walk over to the fridge, grabbing a the milk carton. I pour myself a glass and down it in a few gulps. 

"Nice to see you're not dead." Ben says as he quirks an eyebrow up. 

"I aim to not disappoint." 

Chase is too focused on his phone to even notice my presence. Not that I cared. The less amount of time spent talking to him, the better. I take a seat beside Ben while I eat my toast. "How's the lovely girlfriend?" I ask Chase. He looks up from his phone, his eyes wide.

"Uh, fine." He says, his cheeks flustered. "Bella just woke up."

I feel my eyes widen. "Bella? What the fuck." 

Chase catches on to what I am implying and is quick to shake his head. "No, not her. Isabella." 

"She goes by Izzy. Why the fuck are you not calling her that?" I ask, my eyes narrowing. 

"I like Bella." He answers quickly, his cheeks flustering even more. 

"Yeah, I'm sure you like it. Since your fucking ex-girlfriend was named fucking Bella. Or was it Ella?" 

"She went by both." Chase retorts, his voice raising. He shakes his head frantically, "But, this has nothing to do with Arabella." 

"Oh, I'm  sure. Does Izzy even know about her? That you've nicknamed her after your ex-girlfriend?" I quirk my eyebrow at him. He looks at his phone, then Ben, and then back to his phone. 

"I didn't name her after Arabella."

"Bullshit." 

Chase slams his hand down on the table. His cheeks have grown increasingly darker in colour as his brows furrow in frustration. "Fucking drop it Haz." 

"Don't you dare call me Haz." I growl. If this guy continues with this bullshit, I would not hesitate to punch him. I was already on edge from last night and with the whiskey-induced headache that was pounding at my skull. The last thing that I needed was Chase and his fucked up logic and big fat mouth. 

"Oh why, does it hurt you too much? Remind you of-"

"Shut your fucking mouth, got it? Shut up." I stand up quickly, the chair screeching against the floor. 

"Guys, calm down." Ben says, his voice calm against the storm that is my rising temper.

"If you fucking call me Haz one more time, I will not hesitate to punch you in the face. Go it?" By this point, Ben has stood up and has a firm grasp on my shoulder. I shake him off, stepping closer towards Chase. 

"Only if you don't tell Isabella about Bella." Chase keeps his voice steady, but his eyes are going wild. 

"I'm not going to say anything to your girlfriend. But if I were you, I'd tell her. Or fucking break up with her. This isn't fair to her one fucking bit." 

"Oh, so you can date her?" He asks, his voice now raised. 

"Don't even start with that shit." I sneer. 

"Please, I know you like my girlfriend. Don't even fucking think about touching her or being with her. She's not your girlfriend, she's mine. " 

I let out a loud scoff. "Been there done that," I smirk. 

Chase takes one step closer towards me. His hands are now formed into firsts, his knuckles growing white with the pressure. As his arm begins to raise and aim towards my face, a loud buzzing sound fills the room, breaking the tension. 

I look down towards the table and glance over Chase's phone. Izzy's smiling face is on the screen. "It's your girlfriend," I grumble before turning around and walking out of the kitchen. 

My mother is sitting in the living room. She stands up as she notices me storm past her. "Harry," she calls out for me. I look over my shoulder to see her rushing after me. I stop in my tracks so that she can catch up. "Where are you going?" She asks, her voice soft in the motherly tone that I knew so well. 

"I'm going home," I reply quickly. Her face visibly falls. Disappointment is clear on her aging face. Her green eyes downcast. 

"So soon?" She asks, her eyes looking at me.

"Yeah. I need to get out of here." I run my hand through my curls, pulling them back. 

"Alright," she says quietly. She places her hand on  my forearm. Her touch is gentle - a complete contrast from Ben's harsh grasp on me earlier. 

"Bye." I say, my voice low. I bend down and leave a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you later, mum. Thanks for dinner and stuff."

"Of course, Harry. It's always nice to see my baby boy." She says, her eyes becoming glassy. "I love you son." Her voice quivers slightly. 

"Yeah. You too." I nod at her before turning around and walk towards my room. I grab my duffle bag and dirty clothes from the ground. I throw them into my bag and pull my black jack back on. I walk down the stairs and towards the front door. 

"Wait, Harry!" Mother calls out for me. I turn around and she rushes over to me. "Here," she grabs my hand and places an envelope in my palm. "Don't worry, it's not a lot. I just - I worry about you, and want you to have a bit of extra spending money."

"Mum, I don't need this." I try to give it back to her, but she quickly declines. 

"Please. Take it." 

I look at her once more before nodding my head in agreement. I reluctantly wrap my arms around her aging body and pull her in for a hug. I hear her quiet gasp at my sudden, and uncharacteristic, action but is quick to respond. "I love you mum," I say to her. 

"I love you too, Harry. Call, okay?" 

"Sure." I smile at her one last time before walking out of her house and towards my beat up car.