First update on my Snow Day! xD This is so weird in Florida, but literally, it's just a thin layer of ice. With all the bad drivers in Florida, I guess it's understandable why roads and schools are closed xD Whale, enjoy<3

(LOOK AT THE FETUS PICTURE ON THE SIDE. HOLY, DO YOU HEAR ME SOBBING?)

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Chapter 15 – Valerie’s P.O.V.

            Trying to picture this as real life is just impossible. I mean, Harry flawless Styles is walking inside my house right now. Harry flawless Styles is following me up the stairs right now. Harry fucking-shoot-myself-in-the-face-because-he’s-so-perfect Styles is walking into my bedroom right now.

            I froze in my tracks, the realization hitting me once more. Harry was in my bedroom a couple days ago, but now he’s actually going to have time to see it instead of comforting a distressed fangirl. He’s going to see my cardboard cutouts, posters, and fan art that I was always too embarrassed to submit. He’s going to see my fucking dresser covered in One Direction necklaces and bracelets.

            He’s just going to see too much.

            I spun around to face him as he rose an eyebrow at me. “Maybe we could hang out downstairs…?” I drifted off, pursing my lips together.

            A devious smirk stretched on Harry’s heart-shaped lips. “You’re afraid of me to go in your room,” he teased.

            “I am not,” I argued, placing my hands on my hips. I bounced on the ball of my feet, looking around the hall before letting my eyes fall to the floor. “Maybe I just don’t want you to see it…” I trailed off.

            Harry chuckled. “Valerie, I already saw the posters and things last time I was in there. It doesn’t exactly bother me,” he said, making me look up at him in shock.

            If you don’t stop being so fucking beautiful and perfect, you will get pushed off a cliff. Actually, I will jump off a cliff, because there’s no way in hell I’ll push perfection to their death bed.

            A sigh left my lips as I raked my fingers through my hair. My hand rested on the doorknob for a few minutes, then I slowly pushed it open. I don’t know why I’m so embarrassed now. I mean, I practically recited Harry’s entire life to him, and then he said he liked my rambling. I was too emotional to focus on all my fangirl items last time he was here, so I guess it’s just weird for me to watch him look around. But as his eyes trailed over everything, his smile never left his lips. I really don’t believe that all this stuff doesn’t scare the shit out of him, but I decided not to argue. I’m not ready to get rid of Harry Styles just yet.

            I threw myself onto the bed, my wet hair from the lack still in a messy bun on the top of my head. My door was still open, but Harry didn’t seem to care as he laid down right beside me. I bit my lip to fight back a squeal as my eyes stared at the ceiling. I knew Harry was looking at me, just because I could feel his emeralds locked on my face. I knew if I looked back at him, I’d go into a fangirl attack.

            Harry does not need to see that happen.

            It gets pretty dangerous.

            “Can you tell me more about that disease thingy?” Harry asked quietly, his British accent deep and rough, making me want to scream my throat out.

            He was too damn sexy.

            I shrugged slightly, finally flopping my head over to look at him. To prove my assumptions correct, Harry’s eyes immediately locked on mine as he was already staring at me. I gave him a faint smile, then let out a small sigh. “I mean, there isn’t much more to it. I go to the doctor every other week or so, but if I go through one of my Set Backs, I have to go to the ER immediately,” I told him.

            “A Set Back?” he questioned, his eyebrows etching together in confusion.

            I nodded. “It’s like when my heart decided to be stupid and stops beating for a minute. It sends me into this little faint, I guess you could call it, and I don’t remember the things that happened right before it when I wake up.”

            “You mean you won’t remember me?” he asked nervously, propping his head up on his fist as he turned on his side.

            I shook my head. “No, I mean like… within the five minutes before it happens, I won’t remember when I wake up. Like if I were to take a shower and when I got out, I had a Set Back. I wouldn’t remember taking the shower,” I explained.

            Harry slowly nodded, as if trying to comprehend it all. “When were you diagnosed with this crap?”

            I shrugged. “As long as I can remember, honestly.”

            Harry sighed heavily, throwing himself back on the pillowed again. “I don’t like it,” he said bluntly. “You shouldn’t have to deal with something like that.”

            “It’s not anyone’s fault, except for my Mom or Dad’s genes. I was born with it, I think.”

            “It’s stupid.”

            I laughed at his immaturity, rolling my eyes as I looked back up at the ceiling. A small silence fell over us, but it wasn’t awkward. It was one of those comfortable silences where you just took in each other’s presence. Where you just didn’t want that person to leave you.

            “I must say,” Harry said, breaking the silence, “I look pretty good in that picture.”

            My eyes followed his finger to a small poster of him. It’s a picture—that was now considered fetus—with him holding the rose between his teeth, while popping up his collar. It actually used to be my favorite of him when it came out, so all I could do was look at him and smirk. “That used to be one of my favorites,” I admitted sheepishly.

            “Oh really?” Harry smirked, turning to look at me again. “Which one is your favorite now?”

            I pointed, biting my lip to hold back at smile as I looked at the fetus picture. It was from the X-Factor days, and I remember screaming at my Mom just so she’d buy it. I knew the boys would get big, because they’re just amazing, so I wanted an old picture to look back on. Funny, every time I look at it, I have to hold back tears. It’s amazing how much strangers can truly mean to you.

            It’s amazing how they can save your life when the people closest to you can’t.

            Harry turned to me with a smile. “You really like the old things, don’t you?”

            “God, I miss the old things,” I admitted. “Not that I don’t like the new things, I do. It’s just… I don’t know… fetus stuff gets to me,” I said, shrugging slightly.

            Harry chuckled. “So if that’s your favorite group picture, what’s your favorite picture of me?” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

            I shook my head. “I don’t have a favorite picture of you,” I said, making his eyebrows turn to a frown. I smiled. “I like the real version of you much better.”

            Harry smiled, leaning down and planting his gentle lips on mine. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of Harry fucking Styles kissing me, but I don’t think I want to. My time left is sporadic and unpredictable, so why not enjoy it while I can? Even though this hardly seems to be believable as real life, I’ll live in this dreamland forever, if I have to.

            “Ew! Close the door!”

            My eyes shot open, but Harry simply chuckled against my lips. I pushed him by his chest, making him frown at me as I glared at Tommy. “You’re so immature,” I growled, standing from the bed and closing the door. Not because Harry and I were going to do anything, but let’s face it… My life can be pretty unpredictable right now.

            I never know what’s going to happen.

            I turned back to see Harry smirking. “What?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips demandingly.

            Harry chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re mad,” he smirked, making my cheeks heat up. “Unless you’re mad at me, then you’d make me feel like shit.”

            I smiled. “I don’t think getting mad at Harry Styles is a possibility.”

            Harry laughed.

            I then held up a finger. “Except that one time when you posted a picture of a wig on the floor, then quickly deleted, but you made the entire fanbase think you cut your damn hair off. I was crying, okay? Like, legit tears.”

            Harry laughed again, shaking his head at me. “Would you really cry if I cut my hair?” he smirked.

            “Hell to the yes,” I exclaimed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “If you cut your hair, I’d probably cry the rest of my life. Like, you can’t be Harry Styles without actually have hair.”

            Harry smirked, leaning forward and pecking my cheek. “You’re adorable,” he chuckled.

            “I’m not adorable,” I argued. “This a serious conversation about your hair.”

            Harry smiled. “I promise, I’ll never cut my hair. Does that make you feel better?”

            I nodded, my smile stretching as he chuckled. He leaned in for my lips again, but then my door swung open. “Dinner is—Oh my God! What is wrong with you people?” Jeremy grumbled as he pushed my door open, then stormed down the hall.

            Harry laughed as I simply rolled my eyes. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Mister Styles?” I smirked, standing from the bed.

            “It’d be an honor, my lady,” he smiled, royally kissing my hand and doing a dramatic bow. I laughed, but inside I was screaming. Not to mention I had a dream about us joking together like this, and I put it in my fan fiction…

            No.

            Don’t think about that damn story, Valerie. There is no relations.

            It’s not possible.

            But for some reason, my mind kept wandering around the story and all the similarities between Harry and me with it. It was starting to scare the hell out of me, and as much as I tried to ignore it, the more I thought about it. I was overthinking it so much, I decided I was going to visit the library tomorrow at school.

            I think it’s time for a little research to calm my mind.