[ASTRID REESE]
London, England

★ ★ ★

Astrid couldn't stop thinking about Elliott Simon.

Not when she was on the phone to the venue where Jennifer and David were going to get married. Not when she took her lunch break—so she went to McDonald's and ordered a twenty-piece nugget box and inhaled every single one of them.

For most of the day, she stared out of her head. Completely gone.

All because of Harry. All because of what he brought up at their lunch together the other day.

When Astrid used to volunteer at the hospital to cuddle babies, she met a lot of people. Elliott Simon had been one of them. A kind man. Someone who made Astrid laugh. Someone who made Astrid feel seen. Someone who made Astrid want to show up and be perfect.

All of it was silly. But Astrid's feelings betrayed her, so to say, and her heart caved. Feelings purred to life that she knew she couldn't allow to blossom, and it wasn't that she wanted to act on them. In fact, she resisted them. But temptation is a dangerous thing.

When five o'clock hit, Astrid shot out of her chair and speed walked down to her car. Got in. Slammed the door shut. Before she knew it, she was on the motorway, going in a completely different direction to where she lived.

She needed to drive. No particular destination resided in her mind. She just needed to find a route where the overtaking lane was empty and she could speed down the grey asphalt without any restraints. The speed caused her heart to elevate in her chest then slowly drop to the pit of her stomach. Adrenaline pumped inside her, eyes wide in anticipation.

Then she slammed on the brake. A car indicated to come out before her. Astrid grunted and climbed into the vehicle before her. The nose of her car almost touched the back of this grey Range Rover and she was so, so close to sounding her horn—but then the car indicated left and disappeared from her line of path.

It could've been an hour after that, or an hour and a half, before she had to turn her GPS on and find her way home.

Harry was also in her home.

In the downstairs lobby.

He sat on the sofa to Astrid's right, with one leg hooked over the other. His elbow leaned on the armrest. His attention focused on the phone on his knee. She couldn't help it when she got closer, she let her attention soak up the muscle on his arm, the way it tightened below his short-sleeved shirt as he leaned on it. Two fingers held up his head, near his temple, and he was lost in his world. So lost, that he didn't even realise he was no longer alone until Astrid reached over and slid her fingers onto his palm, perfectly fitting between the gap of his hand and head.

Harry looked up suddenly, and his hand flew down. At the same time, it curled around her fingers like he knew it was her, like he had no doubt it would be Astrid who touched him like this, and he glanced up at her. A gentle smile appeared on his face, spread to his eyes as they lit up and reflected the lights.

"Astrid," he breathed as a form of greeting, a surprise from his end, even though this was her home and she should've been shocked to see him. Except she wasn't because she remembered when they discussed they'd spend the night together.

And then he frowned as he rose with her hand clutched tightly in his. "Honey, what happened?" he asked, almost begged her to put him at ease and confusion took over her. What?

She ran her thumb over his hand and shook her head. "Nothing. Why?"

"You just look really sad," he said, his head tilted like he needed to analyse her words and her appearance. So Astrid homed her features in and gave him her best smile.

"Nothing to worry about," she said and slid her fingers between his. Squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Let's go up."

"Alright," he nodded, reluctant.

Looking around, Astrid spotted his bag on the abandoned couch and she asked, "Is that yours?" Harry looked back, too, and hummed. "You're going to spend more than tonight, right?"

"That was the plan."

"Good," she replied.

Once Harry grabbed his bag—his hand never let go of hers—they made their way over to the lift. Harry pressed the button and the doors opened right away. He punched the floor number with ease then pulled Astrid closer to his side, his arm now around her shoulders, his lips in her hair.

The ride was short and silent, and Astrid liked it. They reached her floor all at once and the lift dinged softly. After finding that the front door was locked—Sofia most likely still out—Astrid looked through her bag to find the keys.

Harry leaned against the wall while she fished for the set. His gaze sent a prickling feeling down her skin as he kept his attention on her face, never flickering. "I asked around at work, and it turns out, there is opportunity to become a baby cuddler."

Astrid went still. Her head remained low and her arms stayed frozen in the air. Only her eyes moved up slightly, now in perfect line with the front door. Inhaled. Exhaled. Once each time. Then went back to her bag to get the keychain out. Placed it in the keyhole, twisted, then pushed down the handle.

Darkness welcomed her before she flicked on the light and dropped her keys back in her bag. Kicked off her heels then picked them up and stored them in the cabinet.

"What happened, Astrid?" he asked again. Sureness shone through his tone, strong, and she had a feeling he worked something out in his head. Still, Astrid continued to go ahead until she reached the staircase, flicked off the hallway light and on the upstairs lights. "You've been—I don't know. It worries me to know there's something you're holding back from telling me. I know it's to do with this particular topic because you froze yesterday, too."

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven steps. They reached the top and Astrid turned right. She pushed her bedroom door in and flicked on the light. An umbrella of yellow coated her bedroom from high on the ceiling, and she wasted no time getting to her nightly route.

Unpack important bits of her bag. Plug her phone on charge. Plug her watch on charge. Store bag in the wardrobe. Place her trench coat and blazer on their respective hangers.

"You don't need to know everything," she said, happy to leave it at that. It truly was none of Harry's business. All the while Astrid acted weird, and it struck his attention, perhaps worried his mind, he did not need to know. It would've served no purpose to him to know.

"I want to know what's bothering you," he commented gently. It was obvious he didn't want to fight. Astrid's defensive tone suggested otherwise, even if she, herself, felt against a verbal bickering.

"Harry," she turned to him for a moment. He stood in the door way, his arms crossed. The bag he held was on the floor now. "I don't want to talk about it. Drop it."

Silence followed Astrid's next actions. She pulled a new set of pyjamas from the top shelf then pulled the wardrobe door closed, the sound low and deep as it slid into place. She grabbed the towel she folded onto the back of her armchair and squeezed past Harry to leave her room. After the day she had, she needed to shower away her thoughts.

Exhaustion seeped into her bones and only force she applied to her brain made her body move. Everything felt like true effort as she shed her clothes, folded them onto the edge of the bathtub. Pulled her mess of a hair into a bun, discarded her rings in the windowsill where she grabbed her facewash and took it to the shower. She positioned the showerhead away from the door and turned on the water, setting it to her preferred temperature before she closed the door and went to use the toilet.

Between Harry wanting to know what got her in a bad mood, and her already bad mood mixed with the responsibilities of her job, she just wanted to disappear. The day she had was horrible. Absolutely mind-tiring. She felt completely drained. Talking about what got her moody, talking in general, was the last thing on her mind.

Underwear and socks in the laundry basket, she stepped onto the shower mat then got in. The water was hot as it hit her skin and she hissed, not used to the temperature yet. Set high up, the showerhead sprayed water onto her face and she stood there for a few seconds. Breathing in through her mouth.

A long, long day.

Astrid didn't want to argue with Harry. It's why she chose to ignore him and go for a shower. It seemed he sensed her need to be alone because she managed to make it out of the shower, get dry and moisturised, all in her own company.

Fresh and dressed in her soft cotton, mismatched pyjamas, she opened the door and, with her towel in hand, she went back to her room. The lights were turned off when she got there, and it was extremely cold, which made her groan. Astrid placed her towel on the back of the armchair to dry then noticed her balcony door was left open slightly. The curtains were blowing gently, and she figured that's where Harry went.

Curiosity drove her more than her need to be on her feet as she pulled her dressing gown on and joined him quietly.

As expected, he was there. Forearms leaned on the railing, hands intertwined as they hung over the nothingness before him. In this position, his shoulders were eye-level for Astrid, the muscles on his back tense as he used them for support. Unable to pin it on anything else, her only explanation for always letting her attention linger on him came down to the fact that it's been some time since she allowed herself to appreciate people.

Men.

Handsome men. Gorgeous men. Fit men.

Harry Styles.

Let's be real here, she thought. Harry is a man like no other.

Eventually, she took up the same position as him. Astrid leaned on her own arms and pushed her body forward to look down the height. Immediately, a pair of hands grasped her by the waist and tugged her back.

"Jesus Christ, what are you doing?" Harry almost shouted, his eyes frantic as he watched her. Astrid was terrified because she didn't expect to be touched or pulled back or any other reaction, really, from Harry.

"I wasn't doing anything," she shook her head as he slowly let his hands fall from her body. Her skin felt hot where he touched, even though she wore two layers of clothing. Harry exhaled loudly and pressed his palm to his chest as if the action could calm his racing heart. "What, did you think I would jump?"

The city lit up his face and nothing else. It was still clear that he thought she would. For what reason, she couldn't decipher. She imagined that must've been a much more complicated response, one that his facial expressions couldn't deliver.

The both of them went back to looking out onto the quiet part of the city, the trees as their green crowns touched. Cicadas, crickets, grasshoppers, all those little insects down in the grass, sang their song, ultimately bringing a sense of calm to Astrid. She'd often stand out here, eyes closed or wide in thought, and just listen.

Listen and give herself a moment. To breathe. To re-evaluate. To exist.

After some time, Harry quietly said, "I don't mean to push," and left it there. A random thought sprang from his mind and he shared it, and Astrid would've lied if she said she didn't want to hear more.

It surprised her, really. Over the course of their... whatever it was they did together, she felt herself become much more connected to Harry. She felt herself rely on him. She felt herself care for him. All the things she most likely should've refrained from doing, she managed to do, and if that didn't sum her up as the kind of person she was, or the lack there of control she had over her goddamn heart and feelings, she wasn't sure what would've done her justice.

Truth be told, Harry was great. Amazing, even. Perhaps everything she thought she looked for in someone. Definitely a lot more than she ever got from Derek Molyneux. Which, again, came as a surprise, because she was sure that they'd marry eventually.

And then he cheated. Her heart broke. This plan formed. Now she is here, on her balcony, with the man she is supposed to use for her benefit, and she thought, maybe jumping from this high up wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"I was engaged for six months when I found out my fiancée fell out of love with me and left me for another man."

Yeah, jumping is a good idea.

The words that came from Harry were shocking. Not just because of their nature but also because of how candid he was.

"Ellie Ackerman," he continued. Laughed, and sounded like he forced it to curl up his throat before he corrected himself. "Ellie Jones now, I suppose. It's funny in a dark sense because the man she married is the man she told me not to worry about. I felt like a total idiot when I found out that's who she's been seeing for the better half of our relationship."

Words felt stuck in Astrid's mind. What to say what to say what to say.

Should I tell him I got cheated on, too?

Should I tell him that's exactly what happened to me, too?

Should I just hug him and tell him his ex is an idiot?

"She's been on my mind for a few days now because... well," he laughed, and from the corner of her eye, Astrid saw him bend his head downwards. Was he embarrassed? "Today is—supposed to be our anniversary and she left me two years ago. It's strange—two years together. Two years since she left. Broke up. Whatever," he mumbled. "And so, I thought—I don't know. I thought if I had you—if you spent or if I spent the night at your place, I could get over the reality of it. Which, I now realise, makes me sound like a dick because I don't want you to feel like I'm using you or I'm spending time with you, only to forget about my problems. I guess I just—,"

"Harry," she said suddenly. She had to, actually. His voice got a little louder, his speech a little faster, his words a little more muffled. Something about admitting these things made him nervous, and, as she found a moment ago, embarrassed. If she touched his hand, Astrid was certain, he would find his palms slick with sweat.

He turned to her with a sharp twist of his head. "Yes?" his voice a match for a whisper.

Astrid didn't know what to say. No matter how much time has passed and allowed her to process his words, his story, his experience. So badly, she wished she could've comforted him but, in this moment, pushing him away seemed so alluring.

If she pushed him away, he'd never have to find out about what she planned to accomplish.

If she pushed him away, he'd never have to feel the pain of her betrayal.

Because obviously, Astrid planned without knowing anything about Harry. To even think of him as a human being with feelings, and a past, and ambitions was the last thing on her mind. Harry was only ever supposed to be a stepping stone to show off, to get payback, and she knew very well just how much she sounded like Ellie Ackerman—Jones. Whatever.

"I just don't think—I don't know if we should talk about this," she replied. Guilt washed over her in large, deep waves. Waves that almost pulled her under, and she wished she could've drowned with them. The look on Harry's face twisted her heart in all sorts of directions, one more vicious than the other, stretched it until it teared in more ways than one. "I don't feel good. I don't feel like talking."

Surprise. Confusion. Hurt. All the feelings that flashed across his face in under one second. Puzzled, was how he remained. Completely shocked by the lack of sympathy, the lack of comfort, the lack of care that usually felt so tightly woven into the person she was.

It felt wrong.

Horrible, actually, to pretend like her heart didn't drop to the pit of her stomach in absolute agony at her own denial.

"I don't understand," Harry said softly. He sounded like he thought he did something wrong. Astrid knew he felt this way for sure when he asked her, broken, "Did I do something—or said something to upset you? I don't understand."

"No."

The one worded answer struck him. Visibly. The perfect arrow of his mouth dropped open, agape as he gasped for a breath of fresh air. Even though they stood outside, it seemed like his lungs couldn't breathe fast enough for him to keep up with her sudden change. Pinched in the middle, his eyebrows were drawn together in worry, in panic, as Astrid forced herself to slip through his fingers.

Better this way. Better this way. Better this way.

"Don't shut me out," he begged. He moved forward, his hands in the air before they gently took hold of her face, thumbs caressing the apples of her cheeks. "Honey, please... talk to me."

Astrid felt her heart hammer against her ribcage. Desperate to break out. Desperate to reach towards Harry's and comfort it.

"Look, why don't you go take a shower?" she suggested and stepped back. She saw when his chest expanded like it made way for his broken heart. She saw when the rejection completely shattered his remaining hope of reaching her. Astrid couldn't hide the twist of pain that came with the lack of warmth from his hands. She felt colder than she thought she was.

"A shower?" he asked back. Confused. So, so confused. And Astrid understood it completely. She slammed the door in his face after it had been left wide open. The door he opened. The leverage he gave her to get to know him.

He trusted her. That much had always been obvious. Harry put his trust in Astrid almost immediately. It felt good, she thought. It felt amazing, to be honest. Harry treated her like she was the best thing to ever happen to him, he put her first, he gave her everything she could've ever wanted.

And she slammed his door of trust in his face.

Broke him, she realised, as the splintered wood scarred him.

"Please," she said. Please—what? She didn't even know. Please let her rewind everything said? Please give her a moment to be alone to process everything she managed to ruin in five minutes?

"Okay," he nodded. "I'll go and—I'll take a shower," he stepped a little closer and hesitantly reached over. Took Astrid's hands in his. She didn't have it in her to pull back so she let him hold her. "And then we can talk, alright? I'll give you a moment, and we'll sit down together and have a little chat. Just you and me, honey."

Harry didn't wait for a response. He only leaned closer and pressed his mouth to her forehead before he parted and left her on the balcony.

When Harry got back from his shower, Astrid was already fast asleep. 

★ ★ ★

[A.N.]

[Hello. I am here. Post Harry. Missing him like there is no tomorrow. I wish I could go back and relive both nights. If you are seeing him this tour, be ready to have the best time of your life.] 

[ANYWAY. This chapter? My favourite. I love hurting my little characters. It's so fun. I hope you enjoyed it.] 

[As always, pls don't forget to vote and comment :)] 

[See you next week!]

[With love, B.]