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chapter twenty-three

N.J.H.

We lay in his bed, silence enveloping us into solace. My eyes are still red, my cheeks still stained with tears, but my mind's at ease as Harry lays snug in the sheets next to me. The moonlight peeks through the windows, leaving a dim light for me to see Harry's green eyes clearly. They sparkle as if they hold stars within them, and I wonder how one's eyes could be so beautiful.

"Harry?"

"Yes darling?"

He takes my hand into his again and kisses my knuckles, awaiting my question,

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For dropping all this on you so quickly."

"Niall," he sits up, "I don't care about me right now. I'm so happy you told me. That's a sign of your trust in me increasing."

"I just," I sigh and shake my head around, "I don't want to be that damsel in distress that depends on their boyfriend for everything and--"

"And you won't be," he reassures me, "you'll be as independent as you've always been. But,"

"You'll be there when I need it," I whisper to him, "I know babe, I know."

The silence resumes and Harry brushes his extensive fingers through my hair. His breathing is steady and smells of mint and marshmallows.

"I'm bored," I say quietly soon after, "I can't sleep and not that I don't love it, but lying here is killing my brain cells."

"I actually wanted to ask you a couple more questions about 1999," he asks cautiously, "I really am still a bit curious of a couple things."

"Okay," I say, "go for it."

"Where is your father now?"

The first question is thankfully easy,

"He has a life sentence," I explain, "The police took him two weeks after it happened."

"Why didn't they do anything sooner?"

"It took awhile for me to actually, tell someone," shame is evident in my voice, "I was so scared to the point where I couldn't even utter a word about it."

"Mhm," he mutters, "but if this happened to you so... young and tragically, how did you have sex with me?"

"I..." I realize that I did give myself to Harry; though it took awhile, I did, "I guess there was something about the way you approached me that made me feel safe and willing to do what we did."

"Well, thank you again for putting as much trust in me as you have," he kissed my cheek and nuzzles his nose into my hair, "now, about those murdered brain cells, how about we go out for a little?"

"Harry, it's one in the morning," I laugh quietly, "where can we go?"

"Who ever said there was a law against driving in the morning?" he comebacks at me cheekily. I shrug, mumbling a quick 'let's go' before sitting up in the bed. Harry cheers, getting out and snatching his coat off the chair. I walk over to Harry's closet and take out one of his sweaters, slipping it on over my bare body.

"Ni," he reminds me, "you can't just go out in your boxers and my sweater."

"Who ever said there was a law against wearing boxers in your car?"

•

All the windows are rolled down as Harry drives ferociously fast on an empty country road. I'd scream at him to slow down in this moment but I'm cackling too hard to pay the littlest attention to his reckless driving. Foster The People is thundering through his speakers at the highest volume as the breeze infiltrating the car leaves us with an exotic warth.

"Nevermind what you're lookin' for, you'll always find what you're looking for..." he sings quietly.

"You have a really good voice!" I compliment him.

"Thanks," he responds, "but I don't really sing a lot."

"Why?"

"Wasn't allowed to pursue in the arts," Harry explains, "My father wanted me to work in corporate business. He doesn't even like me working for Marvel. But I told him if this is what he's going to force me into my career then this is what I want."

"Do you play instruments?" I ask him another question.

"I play guitar," he answers, "Ni they're all hanging up in my bedroom."

"Oh," I say sheepishly, "thought that they were just for decoration."

Harry laughs loudly, reaching out for my hand and squeezing firmly,

"You're so fucking cute that that statement didn't even bother me."

We're whizzing past houses at light speed now, our hair straying in the craziest places. My legs are beginning to feel the chill from outside. Harry's single hand lets go of mine and moves up to my thigh, rubbing gently.

"You've got goosebumps," he says soundlessly.

"I'm cold," I respond in the same tone.

"I guess there are problems with wearing boxers on early morning drives," a smile inches onto his face and he stops the car. I assume he's going to suggest we have sex in his car, but instead he leans over and kisses me on my mouth until something stops him. Harry looks over to the house across the street, a look of confusion arisen on his features.

"What's wrong...?" I ask quietly.

"We've ended up at my sister's house," he mutters, "and her lights are still on."

He turns off the lights and shuts off the engine and I become frantic,

"Harry! I'm not wearing any pants!" I exclaim. Harry ponders this for a moment, and then a sudden realization compels him resume shutting down his car.

"Babe," he says calmly, "It's my sister. You've got nothing to worry about."

With that, we both step out of Harry's sleek black car. He locks it, taking my hand as we cross the street to her house. Harry's undeniable concern for his sister is truly admirable and I take note of that as we step onto her doorstep.

He knocks reluctantly, then steps back, still holding my hand. When the door opens, a girl with light brunette hair and green eyes just like Harry's is who I see.

"Harry?" she says, shocked at her brother's visit, "What are you doing here?"

"We were just driving around, and I noticed your lights were on. I just wanted to see if you were alright?"

"Wait," she says, stepping to the right, "we?"

Her eyes meet mine, curiosity shining within them. She smiles at at me before looking back at her brother,

"Is that...Niall?"

"You know me?" I look at the both of them in confusion.

"He was stalking you," she says quickly. Harry pinches her arm and she giggles before holding her hand out to me,

"I'm Gemma," she says, "I was supposed to be meeting you on Thanksgiving but now is good too."

I shake Gemma's hand, giving her a side smile. The fact that I'm meeting one of Harry's family members without pants makes me severely insecure.

"Haz," she says, staring at my bare legs, "You've already got the poor boy walking around without pants?!"

"Gemma we weren't planning on coming out."

"But still--okay you know what screw it; come inside, I'm making tea."

She moves to the side, allowing us to enter her house. It's beautiful really, not as spaced out as Harry's but just right for living on her own.

"Niall what kind of tea do you like?"

I return to real life and tell her any kind. Harry's hand sneaks under his sweater that is perched on my nimble body. His thumb pokes at my side softly, and I beam, a soft blush forming on my cheeks.

"So Harry," Gemma comes back into the living room, "why does your concern bring you in here?"

"It's not like you to be up at one in the morning," he spells out, "unless, you're drunk."

"Just couldn't sleep," she shrugs, "I figured I'd find a new dish to bring to Thanksgiving dinner on the internet, but I'm striking out."

"Oh boo hoo," Harry says sarcastically, "No more of your boxed mac and cheese?"

"Shut the fuck up," she says, waving a finger at him. Both of us laugh as she sits down, an easy smile on her face. We follow her actions, Harry letting me rest my legs across his lap. I pull the sleeves of his sweater up to my knuckles, feeling a bit smaller than usual.

"Does everyone bring a dish this year?" I ask curiously.

"We all usually do," he explains, taking my sleeve covered hand in his, "other than Gemma--"

"Shut it."

"--but this year, everyone has to. It's my family, your family, Louis' folks too I presume, and that guy that follows him around all the time--"

"Zayn?" I fill in the blank for him.

"Yeah, Zayn," he says, "And we're all going to Louis'."

"Why not mine or yours?"

"Louis' house can hold that many people," Harry answers for me, "we've talked about this, trust me."

I nod and yawn quietly,

"You see? Now I'm tired."

"So I've boiled all that water for nothing?" Gemma complains with a chuckle.

"Gem shut up, I'll get it." Harry laughs with her and removes himself from beneath me before heading to the kitchen, "Be right back boo."

"Who were you talking to?!" she asks, offended.

"My boyfriend!" He calls over his shoulder. The three of us laugh as I curl my legs into my chest shyly. I rest my shin on my knees as she turns to face me. She puts her body in the same position that mine is in and smiles at me.

"You're shy, aren't you?"

I shrug, nodding slightly.

"Does he treat you well?" she asks.

"Well," I say, "We've only been dating for about a month, but yeah. He's great."

"I'm gonna tell you something," she whispers slyly, leaning in closer to me, "the second he saw you that one night, he was already wrapped around your finger. You didn't even have to try and get him to fall for you; he already did. Harry was so fond of you I couldn't believe he had just met you."

"He was?" This new information is quite pleasing to me.

"Yeah," she says, "beyond comparison. But, I just want to tell you not to hurt him. Not because I'm being the cliché overprotective sister, but because I'm pretty sure that Harry dug himself way too deep into this relationship. It's what he does; he gets excited to the point that if something were to happen, he'll collapse within his own towers of love."

It's like we're complete opposites, I stay extremely far away from love and he jumps for it like a bag of candy. I nod, telling Gemma that I won't hurt him; ever. Though, I know I can't promise that. I can't predict the future, but I know that if things do go south, I may hurt Harry in an act of self defense.