*THREE YEARS AGO.*

"When is this little girlfriend of yours coming over here?"

Harrison Styles entered the kitchen with his phone in hand as usual, typing away at the tiny keys on his blackberry, not looking up to acknowledge his son's presence in the room at all.

"Tonight. She's coming for dinner tonight."

"What's her name?"

"Cecilia Braddock."

"Who are her parents?"

"Some man she doesn't know and a woman named Justine."

"She doesn't know who her father is!" He scoffed and looked completely indignant. "And you think this is a suitable person for you to be dating?"

Harry rolled his eyes and headed out of the kitchen, grabbing his things off the table. There was no point explaining what happened to Cecilia's father, or that she knew who he was but didn't know him personally anymore. Harrison would never understand that; Harrison couldn't see that he had the exact same kind of relationship with his own child.

As he walked through the door of the school he stopped in the main hallway and grinned. Cecilia's picture was up again but this time not for academics. She was the first junior to be named the editor of the school paper in years, and now she had a poster to prove it.

"Oh, Haz, please don't look at that! It's so embarrassing!" He grinned even wider as she slid her hand into his and led him away from the monstrosity that made her blush. "They go over board with that stuff."

"You deserve it Cilly."

She blushed even deeper and smiled up at him.

"I like it when you call me that."

"Really? I call you that all the time."

"I know, but it's my favorite nickname. The only thing better is when you say Cilly Baby." She linked their fingers together as they continued to walk. "Just don't call me that all the time because its special."

"Whatever you say, Cilly Baby."

He wanted to stop and pin her to a wall and kiss her, but the halls were too crowded and the bell for first period would ring at any minute. They still needed to get to their lockers.

"Did you still want me to come for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah of course. We can just walk home together after school."

"Okay." They both spotted their friends waiting for them on opposite sides of the hall and waved to them. They turned back to each other and Harry planted a soft kiss on her lips, then her forehead. "See you later."

"See you later, Cilly Baby." He pressed his forehead to hers and grinned. She beamed up at him. "I love you."

He didnt wait for her to respond. They reluctantly let each others hands go as they walked to their friends and then down different halls towards their lockers.

"Anybody got a bag, I think I need to throw up!"

Kyle joked, Justin laughed a little too loudly. Liam rolled his eyes.

"I don't know why you're laughing Justin, you and Selena are much worse. At least they keep it PG in public."

Harry held up his fist and Liam hit it with his. Kyle took his turn to roll his eyes.

"In public yeah. But Cece's so shy and innocent I bet she's a freak in the sheets, huh Harry?" Liam noticed the tightness of his friend's jaw, and even though he hadn't known Harry for very long it was obvious that his temper was flaring. "There's not a damn thing I wouldn't do to get her alone...that body, those lips. You're a lucky mofo Styles, I can only imagine what it must be like to see those lips wrapped around yo-"

Harry dropped his book bag and grabbed Kyle by the collar of his shirt, pushing the blonde haired boy forcefully into the lockers and holding him there as his blue eyes widened in shock.

"I would shut my mouth now if I were you."

Kyle glared and began to speak, but before he could a voice bellowed down the hall.

"STYLES! FRANCIS! WHAT IS GOING ON?"

Harry sneered at Kyle before reluctantly letting him go and backing away from him. As the principal approached, Justin and Liam looked deeply concerned, Kyle tried to look hurt and innocent, and Harry continued to scowl at everyone. He didn't care if he got in trouble, the only thing that would have made it more worthwhile would have been actually beating Kyle, mostly in the face.

"Payne, tell me what happened!"

"That's not fair, he's Harry's best friend!"

"And you're Kyle's!" Liam yelled at Justin, who shrunk a little at the anger in Liam's voice. "Sir-"

The principal held up a hand to silence Liam, his eyes were glued to Harry, who stared defiantly back at him.

"Francis, Payne, Bieber: get to class now." The three of them exchanged stunned glances. "I said now."

Kyle and Justin hurried off, Liam didnt move.

"But Sir, he was pro-"

This time it was Harry who stopped him from talking.

"Go ahead mate. I don't want you to get in trouble too." He held up his fist again and Liam touched it with his before walking away, looking back a few times with a concerned expression on his face. "I won't apologize for it because he deserved it, and I won't say it won't happen again because it definitely will if he talks shit about my girl."

Though he was a bit taken aback by the comments, the principal gave Harry a sympathetic look.

"I understand that you care about Cecilia; everyone does." Harry's brow furrowed as he wondered how the principal knew about them. "But I know for a fact that this is the second physical altercation you've had and you've only been here for two months."

Harry sighed as he waited for the hammer to drop:

"I'm afraid I have to suspend you for the rest of the week...and of course I'll have to call your father."

There it was.

They never called his mom; his father had given them specific instructions not to. Harry was his son; he would handle it.

He felt ridiculous climbing into his father's black Jaguar - his everyday car - to ride the few blocks down the street to their house. Harry had a car too, a vintage red corvette his mother bought him for his birthday, but he never drove it school...not since he met Cecilia and decided he wanted to walk her there and back everyday.

Now she'd be waiting for him at his locker and he wouldn't show up. He wondered what she'd think. He couldn't even text her to say what happened; his father snatched the phone from his hand the minute he walked into the principal's office.

He started the car and backed out of his parking space before he spoke.

"I will never understand why you insist on embarrassing me and yourself at every turn. Every decision you make is wrong. Your grades are horrible, you're rude and disrespectful, you apparently are a bully...I've given you every advantage in the world and you throw it all away with both hands. But I suppose that is your choice." Harry's eyes widened as shock washed over him. That was easily the most understanding sentence his father had ever said and Harry felt hopeful that maybe this lecture would be different than the others. "But when you start jeopardizing my future with your antics, that's where I draw the damned line. I was in a meeting with Simon, Kenneth, and L.A, working on one of the biggest deals of my career and I get a call that you've assaulted some kid and are suspended for an entire bloody week! How am I supposed to be respected by anyone with an out of control teenager for a son?"

Harry glared at his father.

"You would have to mention me from time to time for anyone to know."

"Why the hell would I mention you to anybody? You're an embarrassment to me Harry."

The words didn't sting as much as they should have, because he hadn't told Harry anything he didn't already know. It was obvious. The silence between them was deep and lasted the rest of the drive. Harry climbed out of the car and headed up the winding and grand staircase of their mansion to his room, just as his father demanded. He didn't bother to slam the door, he just pulled out his laptop and logged onto Facebook, sending Cecilia a message immediately, explaining what happened. He hoped she'd read it before school was over.

He laid in his bed for hours and stared at the ceiling. He wasn't as bored as he thought he'd be, since Cecilia kept messaging him to ask if he was okay and what happened and if he wanted her to come over after school. Harrison had left for work and Anne was out and about, shopping no doubt, so Harry had the gigantic place to himself. His father had made it clear that he wasn't supposed to have company, but he'd also made it clear that he fully expected Harry to disappoint him and ignore his rules.

Cecilia rang the door bell and clutched her books to her chest. She carried so many around there was no way they'd all fit into her book bag. Harry grinned as he bounded down the stairs and threw open the door.

"You're alive!"

She joked as she pulled him in for a hug. He held her tight and closed his eyes, opening them as he heard the sound of tires coming up the driveway. Harrison's Jaguar pulled to a stop and he stepped out looking furious.

"I told you no company."

Cecilia spoke before Harry could.

"It wasn't Harry's fault, Mr. Styles. I just came by to give him his homework, he had no idea I was coming...." She lied like an expert and pushed her books into Harry's arms. "I'm so sorry I made him break your rules, Mr. Styles, I just know how important his studies are to him, and I didn't want him to fall behind."

Harrison's face softened a bit as the girl in front of him charmed him with her innocence and beauty. He remembered himself and tried to sound authoritative as he spoke.

"Well thank you. That's very nice of you; thoughtful." Harry stifled a smile, watching his father try to be nice was the most awkward thing ever. "But Harold is on punishment, and so you'll have to leave."

"Of course sir. But I tutor Harry after school...so...is it okay if he calls me to help with his homework?"

"Of course it is." Harrison looked just as surprised at the words as Harry did. Cecilia smiled again. "You should go now though."

She nodded and hurried away, reminding herself not to kiss Harry before she left. He stared after her for a moment and to his surprise so did his father.

"Who is she?"

"That's Cecilia."

"Oh..." He cleared his throat and turned to walk inside. "Well I suppose you made the right decision about that, at least."

*NOW*

It felt like I'd slept for all of ten minutes when my alarm sounded, signaling that it was morning and time for me to get up. To my surprise I lift my head from Cilly's chest instead of my pillow; apparently we shifted positions in the night. She slept beneath me, my arms were tightly wrapped around her waist, my leg rested in between hers, over one and under the other. One of her arms wrapped lovingly around my head with its hand resting in my hair, while the other was over her head, wrapped around the pillow despite the gash at her elbow. She breathes slowly and steadily and even with the excruciating sound of the alarm in my ears I'm relaxed and deeply reluctant to get up.

But I know I have to, and so I tear myself out of her arms; she groans in sleepy annoyance at the movement and rolls over onto her stomach, never opening her eyes. I walk through the freezing apartment, wishing for the warmth of her body and our comforter the whole way. I shower and dress and leave quietly, dying to stay but knowing I have to let the guy in to lay the flooring in the shop.

Leaning against the desk in the office staring blankly at the list of crap Liam left for me to do, all I can see or think about are those grey underwear Cilly wore, and the way it felt to hear her say 'I love you' without any hesitation at all. I sigh to myself and try to focus.

Liam has a hell of a lot of balls to lecture me about not working, when I'm the one at the shop before daybreak while he lays in bed with that shrew of a girlfriend of his.

Or maybe I'm just jealous.

Maybe; but this list is still bullshit: all things I know I have to do and intend to do as soon as I get a chance. Sometimes i think he thinks I'm mentally challenged, as if I dont know that I have to hire tattoo artists and a shop manager, and that I need to order ink and supplies and create all the necessary forms for customers to sign. He means well but he's over eager, he walks around like the shop is meant to open up tomorrow and its really just annoying as hell to be honest.

Or maybe I'm just frustrated. Mentally? Sexually? Both; both sounds accurate.

And there's no maybe in it. I definitely am.

I lay the paper down on the desk and look around the room, piles of wrapped up furniture here and there. I breathe deeply and scrunch my nose up. Now I smell the mold; I wonder how I missed it before. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I fish it out. I notice who the text is from and frown.

Kick: CeCe never came home last night...have you seen her?

The awkwardness of my relationship with Kick is epic and makes me deeply uncomfortable but I suppose I'll tolerate the sickening feeling it gives me since this is about Cilly. Before I can type a response, my phone buzzes in my hand.

Unknown Number: Harry this is Diane. Please tell me Cecilia is with you?

I text her that she is and give her a story about the night before, omitting the part about Cilly going out and getting drunk. Somehow I dont think Diane is in a state to handle that particular detail

Diane: as long as she's okay...please be careful with her Harry...

I consider responding to Kick then think better of it. She'll read way too much into it and I can't deal with her and that shit right now.

She's never been the kind of girl to take a hint and move the hell on.

"Mr. Styles?"

The man laying the floor stands by the office door with a pleasant look on his face and rips me away from my thoughts. He's about my father's age and addressing me as Mr., which completely throws me off.

"'Harry' is fine."

"Well, Harry, I had my assistant pack the truck last night, and he left about three boxes of boards off of it. I'm afraid I'll have to go pick them up and finish the job this afternoon." The scowl on my face turns the expression on the man before me from a pleasant one to a look of pure shame. He looks to the ground and twists his paint stained baseball cap in his hands. He looks tired, and deeply worried. "I do apologize, Mr. Styles. It's been a rough few months and business is slow...I just don't have the money to pay dependable people to work for me...I know thats no excuse...I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me finish this afternoon. I won't charge you anything because of the inconvenience...I'd just like to finish what I started."

"What's your name again?"

"Uh, Mark Tomlinson."

I continue to scowl, still deeply annoyed by the minor setback of not having the floor finished on schedule. Yet another set back in my already rapidly dwindling timeline, and yet another thing for Liam to spaz out about.

"How much were we going to pay you?"

I ask, keeping my voice and temper as even as possible.

"$750 for labor." I nod and he looks up with an embarrassed smile. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Styles."

"Please stop calling me that. Mr. Styles is my father."

"Everyone knows who your father is," he says with a chuckle. I give him a cold stare and his smile fades. "Right. I'll be back with help and get this done for you M- Harry. Thank you."

He hurries out of the shop and I curse as I grab my keys.

The comment about my father rings in my ears. Tomlinson should be happy as hell that I'm not my father; my father would have refused to pay, berated him and his business, filed a complaint with the city and sued him for everything he had and then some.

I'm not my father and I never will be.

I pick up the checkbook for the shop's expenses and battle with myself as I write the words, his distinct voice in my ears.

'This is exactly why you'll never amount to anything.'

' There's no room for decency in business.'

'Why would anyone reward an idiot's mistake?'

' Keep paying people for work undone and you'll be coming home sooner than you thought.'

I write the words and numbers on the check in spite of myself, or more accurately to spite my father.

Pay to the Order of Mark Tomlinson, Amount : one thousand five hundred dollars and no cents.

I sign the check, put it in an envelope, scribble his name on it and leave it on the desk with a note for Liam. I smile to myself as I lock up the shop and head home. I'd gladly go for broke rather than handle myself in any way like the man who raised me.

She sits crossed legged on the middle of my bed with a serious look on her face, my t shirt on and her hair pulled up in a bun. It's dark and slick, I can tell it was wet, she's been in my shower. I try not to think about it; as I approach the bed I notice the papers she's reading; the business plan for the shop. She frowns as I kiss her forehead.

"Haz, this is terrible."

She gestures to the paper in her hand, I smile at her.

"Good Morning to you too. How about last night?"

She smirks and then pokes her lips out. I kissed her softly, then did my best to look stern.

"Sorry Haz. I am so sorry about all that shit last night. I was a mess wasn't I? I'm so sorry Harry. Really I am. That's why I stuck around. I just wanted to apologize..."

"Don't ever apologize. I want you to call me when your in trouble."

"I shouldn't have been there in the first place."

"Why would you go out partying instead of coming home with me?"

"This is your home, not mine."

She says quietly, looking back down at the papers. I lift her chin and she look at me with guilty eyes.

"Don't do that. Tell me why you went out and got drunk last night."

"Are you my boyfriend or my father?"

She speaks with defiance in her eyes. I speak in sarcasm and disgust.

"Neither to hear you tell it."

"Damn right." She pushes the paper she holds into my chest and crawls off of the bed, looking around for her clothes as she stands up. "That is what you need to be concerned about, Harry. The business plan makes no sense. The monthly financial goal for the shop isn't enough to cover all the expenses you listed, and the number of employees you intend to hire is enough for a shop twice your size. You have no plan at all in place for compensating your employees, either."

"I'm an artist, not a business man."

"Well you should let Liam handle it then..."

"Liam wants to be hands off in that aspect; doesn't have time to get involved in the every day details ...we need an executive shop manager...you could do it if you want."

I flinch, expecting the suggestion to set her off and send her into a full on rant about how stupid an idea it is and how she couldn't handle the responsibility of all that. I relax in the moments after my statement and look into her face. She looks happy and even more shockingly, excited as she crawls back on to the bed.

"Could I?"

"Absolutely, as long as you don't come to work drunk."

"I wouldn't Harry! I would never!"

"Good. Then the job is yours. Now you run the business and I focus on the art and getting clients." She kisses me softly and I smile as I pull away just enough to speak. "Who's Louis, Baby?"

"My friend." She sucks on my lip and raises up onto her knees before straddling my lap and sitting on it "He's just a friend of mine, I swear."

I nod my head and close my eyes, she puts her fingers into my hair and kisses me again. As her lips trail along my jawline I remember the promise I made to that Louis character.

"If he's your friend why would he make you go out?"

"Because he's loud and pushy and he thought it would be fun. He didn't make me get drunk...there's no one to blame but me."

Typical Cilly, trying to diffuse the situation and take the blame. Its not happening this time though. There's no way in hell I'm not going to put his teeth down his throat and my foot up his ass for what he did.

"Where does he live?"

"In Brooklyn."

I'll find him whether she tells me or not. I whimper and hate myself for it as she pulls her body closer to me. I know I should push her away, but she seems okay for now. I know this is just a distraction and I should push her right off my lap and make her tell me Louis' address, but I'm too satisfied with the way her body feels against mine and the taste of her lips. She kisses down my neck to my shoulder and bites at my collar bone.

"Cecilia." I say, my voice a bit higher than I mean it to be. She laughs to herself. I grab her head and sit her up to look at me. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you."

"Are you still drunk or something?"

"No....it's just kissing Harry. I think I like kissing you." She smiles at me but as she dwells on my words she looks deeply serious. "And I'm not usually like that when I'm drunk! I don't usually behave that way."

"You can remember what happened?"

"I remember enough to know I was an idiot and you're a gentleman." I kiss her and hold her hands in mine, she links our fingers together as she continues. Her eyes lock with mine and I listen as she speaks. "Thank you for taking care of me. I know I threw myself at you and you could have just - but thank you for not doing that."

"I would never touch you in that state, but you definitely made it hard."

"Don't I always?"

She giggles and rests her forehead on my shoulder, I shake my head and laugh at her dirty little joke.

"You're a god damned lunatic."

"But you want me, so you must be one too." I nod at her logic, she kisses my neck. "I'm glad I ended up here anyway."

"So am I."

"I know."

"You're conceited as hell, Cilly."

"I just know you love me." She nuzzles in closer to my neck and holds me tighter. She's blowing my mind with all this affection, and as much as I love every second of it I can't help but wonder when she'll start to pull away and make an excuse to leave. "And you can't talk about anybody else being conceited."

"Well I can admit it, you can't. But I know you love me too."

Once again I prepare myself for an expletive laced outburst or a rude comment but all I hear is a small sigh. I look down at her, there's a content smile on her face and her eyes are closed.

"You left so early this morning...you should go to sleep, you look tired." She sits back up and holds my face in her hands. "Of course you're tired, I made you get out of bed and come get me. I'm so sorry Haz."

"Don't be sorry."

It makes me shiver every time she coos her apology to me, but hell if I understand her or her moodiness. How can she be like this with me, then go out and get drunk with some dude the second she leaves? Does being with me stress her out that much? Am I pushing her too hard just by being around her? It dawns on me that Cecilia has no idea how to understand what she feels for me, and once again my heart shatters. She's torn and not thinking clearly at all.

"You should go to sleep." She repeats herself and I look up at her, the worry I feel surely shows in the wrinkle in my brow and I'm sure it's in my eyes too. She pouts a little and looks like a wounded child. "I won't leave...my head hurts too bad for me to ride the subway and I don't even know where we are so I can't walk..."

"You could walk but it'd take a while." She looks surprised, I smile a little despite the fact that I'm still thinking about her state of mind. "Not that I want you to leave."

"Okay. So lay down and I'll make you something to eat when you wake up."

"That's sweet Cilly, but I don't really have groceries...I have like cereal and maybe some milk...I'll just take you out somewhere."

"I don't feel like going out, and I don't have any clothes to wear."

"Then just order something." I fish into my pocket and pull out my wallet before handing it over to her. She holds it gingerly as I lay back on the bed. "And call your sister; she's worried about you."

"I talked to her already." She says, leaning forward to put the wallet and the papers on the desk, as she tries to lean back I lift my head up to hers and kiss her. She smiles. "She invited you to spend Thanksgiving with us. I guess she forgot you're English."

"Who could ever forget that with my accent?"

She dismisses my joke with an eye roll and goes on.

"Anyway, could you please come? I want you to be there..."

"Of course I will." I put my arms around her and make her lay back with me, she hesitates before laying her head on my chest. "I wouldn't miss it."