HARRY

I asked her to move in with me. Why did I do that? Why the hell did I think it was the right moment to ask her to make a fucking life altering decision? God, I had  clearly lost my damn mind. I was an idiot. Mentally insane. I had to be going mentally insane to ask her to move in with me.  The words were blurted out of my mouth before I could even comprehend what I was saying. What I was suggesting! The puzzled and shocked look on her face was proof enough of my new found insanity. 

Did I scare her off? Not so much as an "I'll think about it" came out of her lips before she got up and left. Awkwardly laughing as she did so. 

Fuck. Why did I do that? 

Of course, I did want her to move in with me. It made sense. We had been spending ever waking day with one another. She had practically moved in half her stuff here at my flat. Asking her to move in, to make this thing more permanent... it made sense. It was a thought I had been thinking about for a while now. The one thing to prove to everyone that we were going to last.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in my room. My hair was a disheveled mess on top of my head. A direct result of my fingers running through it every other moment. A nervous habit I had developed over the years. What if she decides that moving in was too fast and that she needs space? No. That wasn't going to happen. I had come to the conclusion that I would not bring up my poorly executed suggestion right away. I'd wait it out. See how she reacts whenever she's around me next. Which, knowing us, will be later tonight. 

"Get yourself together," I grunt under my breath. I had to man the fuck up. I loved this girl. I wanted to be with her. Living together seemed like the right step. Might as well ask her to marry you too, a pesky voice pipes up. 

Marriage. No, that was not going to happen. At least, not right now. The idea of getting married made my head hurt. We were still young. We were no where close to getting married. Isabella didn't seem like the type of girl who spent her childhood dreaming of the white dress and pretty flowers. Any preconceived ideas she had about marriage and weddings had been birthed by her precious mother. One thing we had agreed on was that marriage was the last thing we wanted right now. She even said so herself. 

Yet another reason why I loved this woman. She wasn't like all the other girls who were so focused on finding a husband and a white picket fence. She wanted to get her life straightened out before she settled down. 

But, let's be honest... I needed to straighten my life out before we even played with the idea of getting hitched. A shiver runs down my spine. I had to stop thinking about this. Asking her to move in with me was not asking her to marry me. If that was the case, then why did I feel like I made a mistake by asking her? 

- 

"Mate. You really have it bad for this bird." Kit comments. He was laying back against my couch. A lit joint in his hand. We had been hanging out in my flat for the past four hours. Drinking and smoking. Smoking and drinking. I was getting my mind off of my life and the fucking insecurities that came with it. 

Luckily, this time around it was only Kit. No Pippa. No other girls. Fuck, the last thing I needed right now was some slut trying to get into my pants. No other girl could even compare to my Isabella. She was the only girl that could get me up. The only girl that could get me off. Was I becoming too much of a wuss? I couldn't help but start to think that maybe I was. 

"Harry!" I snap out of my thoughts. My fingers loosen their grip on the beer bottle in my hand. Kit is smirking beside me. An arrogant, all knowing look plastered on his thin lips. "Mate. What is going on with you?" 

"I asked her to move in with me," I grunt. Taking a long sip from the cheap beer. The taste was vile but it did the job. 

Kit spits out his drink. "What the fuck?" He looks at me bewildered. His blue eyes widening at me. "You're fucking with me, right?" 

"Nope." I take another swig from my drink. The taste not getting any better. 

"Wow." Kit leans back. He shakes his head. "What did this bird do to you? Reckon she has some fucking voodoo magic on you. Some weird shit, eh." He chuckles. His lips wrapping around the bottle and chugging back. He sets the empty bottle down. Wiping his lips with his ring clad hand. 

"No. She's... She's Isabella."

It was stupid. A fucking ridiculous answer, I knew that. But it was the best way to describe the goddess that was her. Maybe Kit was right and she had a spell on me. That would explain everything. Yet at the same time, I didn't care. For the first time in a really long time, I was happy. I think at least. Was this happiness? It had been so long since I've felt this way about someone that it was hard to distinguish the feeling. 

"Some chick, that's for sure." Kit pulls out another joint, lighting it up. "If she moves in here, you'll have to come to my place. I reckon she wont be too thrilled about us smoking in here."

"Yeah. Probably." I shrug. 

My phone begins to ring. An incoming call buzzing through. I pull it out of my back pocket, half-expecting/half-hoping it'd be Isabella. She was spending the night back at her place. Something about a girly roommate night with Jaz. I didn't ask questions about it. I trusted her enough. Instead of Iz's number, it was my mothers. 

"Mum," my voice is deadpan as I greet my mother. It had been months since we last talked. 

"Harry," her warm voice echoes through the other line. "I miss you, bub." 

"Right." 

I hear her sigh on the other line, "Harry." 

"What is it mum?" I cut to the chase. Not wanting to partake in some meaningless small talk conversation with her. I was half-baked and buzzed. Not exactly the best mindset to be talking to my mother with. 

"I want you to come and visit."

"No." I curtly answer. There was no way in hell I was going back up there. Not if Mark was around. 

"That wasn't a suggestion, pet. I miss my boy. Bring Izzy with you too. I really like that girl.  A sweet thing she is. Good for you too." She pauses, "Please Harry. If it will sway your answer, Mark is going away on business next week. Come then so we can avoid any awful trouble." 

I hesitate. Kit gives me a look. I shake my head, getting up and walking over to my kitchen. "I hate the drive up there. It's too fucking long." 

"Language!" She gasps. I roll my eyes. "I don't care how long the drive is. I'm your mother."

"I'll talk to Isabella," I groan, knowing that she would say yes. She had grown a liking towards my mum. Clearly, the admiration was returned. Bloody hell... 

"Brilliant," She cheers. "You don't have to stay here long. The weekend is fine enough. It's supposed to be warm next weekend. Pretty decent weather we've been having this August, don't you think? Anyways. We can fire up the barbecue. Make those steaks you love so much. It'll be a nice time. I promise you, sweet." 

"Fine," I grumble in defeat. 

"Thank you, Harry." I can hear her smile. Knowing the satisfied grin that was most likely plastered on her aging face. "I love you."

"Yeah. You too, mum." 

We say our goodbyes, hanging up the call. I stumble into the living room, taking an unlit blunt from the table. I stick it between my lips, lighting it up. The toxic smoke coats my throat, burning my lungs slightly. The calming effect immediately ensues. Taking over my nerves and fucking anxiety. 

"Darling mother called?" Kit chuckles from the side. 

"Mm," I nod. Taking another hit. 

"Visiting dear Mark? Must be absolutely thrilled."

"Shaking in my boots I'm so damn excited." I reply deadpan. "I'm starving," I say quickly changing the topic. 

"Ah. Pizza?" 

"Sounds fucking delightful." 

Kit howls in a boisterous laugh. He stands up, his legs wobbling before he straightens up. "Grab your boots, mate. Let's get going. I know a damn good pizza place over on Chester street."

"Great," I grab my boots and a random hoodie, pulling it over my head. 

"Didn't take you as an American football fan," Kit comments. Pointing to the Packers logo on the grey hoodie. 

I shrug, "It's not terrible." He nods, shrugging it off. We walk out the flat and towards the busy street below. Everyone was out, enjoying the late summer evening. We walk fifteen minutes before we arrive at an old looking hole in the wall pizza joint. It was crowded with a bunch of run down looking guys. Their skin tattooed up, hair dyed various colours and body parts pierced. 

"Alex," Kit nods toward some blonde haired guy, who looks oddly familiar, from across the small room. He nods his head in recognition, waving us over. 

Kit waves me over, walking towards Alex. I follow behind, not really wanting to be around these guys. Their faces were bleak. Their eyes dark and lips shut into a thin line. They were a replica of all the guys I used to hang out with back in Manchester. Bad news. 

"Kit," Alex pushes a chair for Kit to sit down on. "Who's your friend." He looks up at me. His dark brown eyes piercing as they look me over. I stand up straighter. My jaw locked and hands curled into fists in my pockets. 

"My mate. He's cool." Alex looks me up and down once more before nodding. He pulls a seat out motioning me to sit down. 

"Alex." He says. 

"Harry." 

I look at his pack of followers. They don't say anything. Their leather jackets making them look like some shitty, stereotypical gang. I stifle my chuckles. The last thing I needed was to get into some fucking brawl because I couldn't hold myself together. 

My stomach growled. I was fucking starving. If Kit wasn't going to get us a pizza, I will. "I'm going to order." 

Alex reaches his arm out to stop me. "Nonsense." He turns to face one of his groupies. "Go get us a pepperoni pizza. Large?" He looks at me for confirmation. I shrug a yes. "A large pizza." 

The red head gets up to get our pizza. I sit back, suddenly unsure of why we were here. I assumed we were running in and out. My high was beginning to dissipate. My stomach craving for something greasy and quick. I could feel my hands shake. I stuff them in my pockets. Get your shit together, Styles. 

I feel my phone vibrate. I pull out out, smiling slightly. 

I hope your night with Kit is going well. I'm off to bed. Love you!

Isabella attached a picture. A half lit photo of her in bed. Her hair in a messy bun in an oversized jumper (that looked strangely similar to one of my Henley's), and a cheesy grin on her lips. I chuckle to myself, typing a quick reply: 

You're hot. Thanks doll. You sleep. xx 

I put my phone back into my pocket. I'd talk to her tomorrow when I wasn't high and starving. I had to tell her about my mother anyways. 

I look up after I put my phone away to see Kit and Alex whispering quietly to themselves. I awkwardly sit in my seat, thankful for the fresh pizza that was in front of me. I pick up a slice, taking a huge bite. "Fucking shit!" I spit the piece out. 

Kit laughs. "Watch it there Styles." 

I grunt. I blow on my piece and take another bite. Thankful that it didn't burn my tongue this time. Alex watches me before turning his attention back to Kit. I discretely watch them. Kit pulls something from his jacket pocket. It looked like an plastic bag filled with... cash. Alex grabs a paper package, handing it over to Kit. 

I look away quickly. I knew that Kit was into drugs. We had spent many times getting high and doing a bunch of fucked up shit. But dealing? He didn't tell me he was into that. I finish up my slice. "I'm uh, going to head out." 

Kit twists in his seat. His eyes shooting up to look at me. "Now?" 

"Yeah mate. I have to see my girl tomorrow." Kit nods, standing up. 

"Okay." He reaches his fist out, pumping it against mine. "I'll see you around, mate."

"Yeah." I nod my head at Alex. He looks at me, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 

"I'm sure I'll see you around Styles." 

"Who knows," I nod my head at the table, turning around and getting the hell out of there. I didn't want to get involved with that scene again. It was one of the reasons why I left Manchester in the first place. One thing I hadn't shared with Isabella and wasn't planning on doing so anytime soon. She didn't need to know about that life. It's in the past and that's where it was going to stay.