At some point in the night, I went to the living room to watch something other than Harry's sleeping face, not that I minded.

The only thing on was cartoons, so I watched Japanese animation until the sun rose and it was an acceptable time to make breakfast.

I just made two bowls of cereal. Weetabix tasted like middle aged women to me, but it was my only option.

I munched on the dry wheat that had been drowned in milk until a very sleepy looking Harry joined me in the kitchen.

He rubbed his eyes with his sleeves and then grabbed the ceramic bowl.

"You chew loud," I said poking his cereal-filled cheeks.

He shrugged.

"I think I'm gonna go for a walk. Feel free to join me if you want," I told him while I put my dish in the sink.

I put a sweatshirt and sweatpants on before I headed outside.

The wind was extremely cold and it chapped my cheeks more and more each second. I ignored my shivering shoulders and started to pace around the perimeter of the cabin.

Nature always seemed to make me feel less tense and more balanced. The bare trees and the snowy sludge that seemed to cling to everything was beautiful.

One of the only skills that my father ever taught me was the importance of nature. He took me fishing on my third birthday. He didn't do anything but rant about the amount of disrespect someone had to have to have to litter. He said something about the outside world being a gift and it just kinda stuck.

The sound of extra feet trudging throught the muddy snow caught my attention. A red nosed Harry was behind me, carrying my mittens and beanie that I didn't remember bringing.

"It's cold," he said, putting the grey hat on my head.

"Where did you get these? I didn't think I brought them."

"I put the stuff you forgot in my bag."

We walked together around the log cabin, kicking the pine cones around with our feet, but never letting any words escape our chapped lips. It would've felt wrong for either of us to fill the silence with conversation.

I stopped and looked up at the sky. It was one of those days where the sky was just one big cloud, a.k.a my favorite kind of day.

It only felt appropriate to lay down on the ground and admire the wonderous sight above us. He joined me and picked the pine needles out of my mess of thick, brown hair.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too."

He grabbed my hand and I could feel the warmth of his hand through my mittens.

I'd always heard people talk about how they knew they were in love. Fireworks exploded under their skin or butterflies flew around in their stomach, and even though I had experienced both of those, that's not how I knew. I knew that Harry was the love of my life because he packed the necessities that I forgot in his bag. I knew because he joined me on my nature walks even though he got colds easier than most people. I knew because of the little things he'd do and not think twice about doing.

After a while, Harry's teeth started to chatter and I decided that it wasn't fair for him stay out just because I wanted him to.

"Let's go in," I said.

I dusted the pine needles and rocks off of the back of my pants before going back in. The wet ground had made my clothes damp and made it easier for everything to stick to me.

I pulled off all of my thick clothes and accessories, leaving me in only my sweatshirt and my underwear.

"You hungry?" Harry asked.

I shook my head.

"You're eating anyways."

He poured a can of soup into a pot. It was 10 in the morning and he was going to make soup. I didn't say anything at the ridiculousness of his logic even though I really wanted to.

The phone rang and I let him answer it.

Harry had a different voice for different kinds of phone calls. If it was one of his mates, his voice would go down the slightest bit. If it was a family member, his words would be coated with false excitement.

This particular call made his voice go down an octave, but he sounded very professional, like he was answering questions for a job interview. His eyes didn't leave me as he replied with various 'yessir's and 'no sir's.

"Here she is," he said, handing his phone to me.

I whispered, asking who it was, and he responded with a furrow of his eyebrows.

"Hello?"

"Hi, my name is Officer White and I'm from the Sussex Police Station. I'm calling to talk to you about your mother."

"Hi," I responded, trying not to sound worried.

"I hate to do this, but we have to ask you some questions about your mum. We usually do this in person, but we have a full precinct, so we're going to have to settle for this. Take your time with the answers. Grieving is hard."

I hated the way he talked to me. He acted like he knew me and understood exactly what I was going through when he clearly didn't. No one truly knew about how my mother felt about me or how I felt about my mother, not even Harry.

"Okay," I replied.

"First, tell me what your relationship with your mother was like."

I contemplated telling him the false truth. I would tell him that my mother was great and that she cared about my work, which wasn't exactly a lie, but wasn't exactly the truth either. I contemplated giving him the least amount of information possible, but still answering his question. There were so many routes I could take.

"We weren't all that close, but I could call her if I needed her and stuff."

"Okay, did she act suspicious the past few days of her life?"

"I don't think so."

"I'm going to need you to answer truthfully. If you don't tell the truth, you're mum won't get justice. Understand?"

I was offended by the tone of voice he was using with me. Of course I understood that if I wasn't honest my mum's case wouldn't get solved. I honestly couldn't remember how my mum acted the days prior to her death. Everything seemed normal, but the last week had made me question everything.

"Don't patronize me, sir. I am a strong, smart woman who doesn't have to listen to you act like you give a damn. You're doing your job to get paid and nothing more. If you want to ask me questions, I'll be glad to answer them, but spare me the false remorse and degrading."

I looked over at Harry. He was trying his best to hold in his laugh,

"I'll call back later. Good day," the officer said.

I hung up the phone and within seconds Harry and I burst into a fit of giggles, repeating some of the phrases I had used like they were pieces of comedy gold.

He handed me my bowl of chicken noodle soup after we'd composed ourselves.

"Thanks."

He gave me a thumbs up instead of an answer. It would've been gross for him to talk with a mouthful of soup.

"Gem's staying here tonight, something about her water getting shut off. We can stay here with her or we can go back home, doesn't matter to me," he said, filling his mouth again.

Gemma (Gem) was his sister. I never talked to her much. They had a really tight-knit sibling relationship and she always managed to make me feel like I was intruding, even though she probably never meant to. I liked the cabin, though, and I didn't want to leave.

"As long as it's okay with her, I'd like to stay here for a few more days. Isn't there another bedroom?"

He nodded.

He finished his soup and placed his dish in the sink which was now started to look a bit full. I never did the dishes. I got grossed out too easily to see wet food, so Harry always did them when he felt like the plates and forks made a dirty dish mountain.

Gemma got there later that afternoon, with a boy. It was her boyfriend, Olly. He was fairly short, but still rather intimidating. His eyebrows were permanently knitted together and he had wrinkles in his forehead, a side affect of years of anger or stress. Olly complained a lot as well. I could see Harry glaring at me in disgust every time he made a snarky comment.

"Someone hasn't done the dishes," Olly commented.

Gemma rolled her eyes and continued to roll their luggage into the guest bedroom.

"Um, Olly, why don't you come in here and sit down?" I asked, trying to be sweet and hospitable even though I didn't own the cabin.

He grunted and sat down on the couch beside Harry.

"What do you do for a living?" Harry asked him.

"I'm a construction worker. What are you?"

He cleared his throat. I could tell he really didn't want to tell Macho Man Construction Worker that he was just a student, even though getting his education was much better than building stuff, in my world at least.

"I'm still in college," Harry finally replied.

Olly laughed and the color drained from Harry's face. I grabbed his hand and drug him into our temporary bedroom.

"It's been five minutes and I've already had it up to here with him," he said, holding his hand above his head.

"I know, but we can't just leave. Your sister's here too, so try to ignore him and focus on her. Okay?"

He nodded and I quickly kissed his lips.

He headed back into the living room and I decided to help Gemma unpack. That would be the nice thing to do and I was obviously trying to be as nice as possible.

"You need some help?" I asked, standing in the doorway of the room.

"That'd be great, thanks!"

She was so beautiful, long pink hair came right below her shoulders and her eyes were almost the exact same green as Harry's.

"I heard about your mum and I'm truly sorry. I know we're not very close friends, but if you ever need me, feel free to call," she said while folding a shirt.

"Thanks. I'm always free to talk, too."

I stuffed random items of clothing into drawers and tried to listen for loud noises coming from the living room. There was no doubt in my mind that her boyfriend wanted to start a fight with mine.

"Has my little brother been treating you alright?" she asked jokingly.

"Obviously! Tell me about your new guy."

"Well, he's definitely not what I usually would go for, but he's nice enough. You just have to get used to him s'all."

I nodded, but I was confused about how you could get used to a rude personality like his.

We finished unpacking her and Olly's things, so we went into the kitchen to start cooking dinner. Gemma knew her way around better than I did, so she decided to cook chicken and mash instead of the instant delicacies that Harry and I had been eating.

"Hurry up! I'm starving!" an irritated Olly bellowed from the living room.

"We're trying," Gemma sighed.

I looked over to Harry who was obviously holding back bitter words towards the douchebag.

"I'll set the table," I told her.

I put four plates, napkins, and sets of silverware on the table. I couldn't remember which forks were which, something my mother taught me, and I really wanted to cry. It had been days and I was already forgetting her.

I pulled myself together. I couldn't cry in front of everyone.

I helped Gemma put the food on the table. The two guys came into the dining room, Harry kissing me on the cheek before pulling my chair out for me. Olly sat down without thanking his girlfriend or anything.

"Thanks, Gem," Harry said, hugging her.

We all sat down and started eating our food. No one had ever told me how good of a cook Gemma was. It was a shame because her food tasted like heaven.

Dinner consisted of the two siblings trying to catch up and being rudely interrupted by Olly, his mouth full each time he talked. Harry was fuming, but he knew that it would be wrong to tell his sister's boyfriend off without enough reason, so I rubbed his knee under the table and hoped that he could contain his annoyance.

The only true way to piss him off was to be rude to the people that mattered to him, which was the only thing the poor guy was having to put up with.

After everyone emptied their plates and filled their stomachs, Harry helped Gemma do the dishes. I was forced to sit in the living room alone with Olly.

"Could you go get me a beer or something?" he asked me.

I had been telling Harry all evening to be nice to this guy, but I was not about to get back up and get him a beer when he could do it just as good as I could.

"You have two legs. Do it yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"I would say something, but you'd just play the 'I Have a Dead Mum' card."

There was a random glass laying on the coffee table that I decided to "accidentally" knock off to get Harry's attention. He'd been wanting to tell him off and I didn't really care if he did anymore.

"Babe, you okay?" Harry asked, as if on cue.

"I knocked the glass off the table, sorry. Come with me to get the broom?" I winked.

"Did he say anything to you?" he asked after we were in the hallway.

"He asked me to get him a beer and I said no and apparently he didn't like that, so he said that if my mum wasn't dead he'd tell me off or something like that."

He balled his fists up by his sides, a habit he had when he was angry.

"Are you giving me your permission to tell him off the next time he says anything?"

I nodded.

He kissed me for a few seconds before he grabbed the broom.

"Sorry," I said as I helped him clean the mess up.

Gemma must've given her little boyfriend a talk while we weren't in there, because he kept his mouth shut while her, Harry, and I talked and laughed.

"Is mum good?" Harry asked.

"Better than ever! She's been going to the operas lately. What an adult!"

I laughed. I had always thought of Anne as a friend and less of a sort of mum.

"Is school good?" she asked him.

"Um...yeah. The lectures are rough though. Three hours in a library with a professor whose voice puts you to sleep isn't that great."

She nodded in agreement.

"Uni sucked for me and I was taking art classes! Something I love was turned into an awful class!"

"All this sucky university talk makes me glad I only had to go for two years."

"Your mum wasn't proud of you, was she?" Olly asked.

I didn't want his words to hurt, but they did anyways. It was like each syllable was a blade being shoved into my chest.

Gemma gasped and Harry started to get up to do something, but I stopped him.

"No, you know what he's right. My mother didn't love me like most mothers do and I never got a true raising and I am a piece of orphan trash now."

"Marilyn," Harry sighed, sympathetically.

"It's true. Thank you for making that point, Olly."

"You're welcome, but I could've told you that you were an orphan piece of trash right when I walked through the door. I can tell that you use your piece of crap boyfriend there to help you cope with the fact that you are nothing. I can tell that you hate yourself, which you should. I can read you like a book."

My face was bright red and when I felt Harry grab my hand I didn't want to follow him.

He led me to the bedroom and told me to stay there. Within a few seconds, Gemma was with me.

You could hear fists coming in contact with the other's bodies and the furniture being moved around. I was scared, but I knew that Harry could beat him up easier than he could beat Harry up.

When I heard someone fall on the floor, I rushed into the living room to make sure my boyfriend was okay, the boyfriend that I loved more than life itself and wasn't using for a coping mechanism.

He was standing over the terrible man's bruised body, his knuckles bloody, but the rest of him in relatively good shape.

"Stop it. We're leaving. Now," I tried to sound assertive, but my voice was too shaky.

He looked devastated as he followed me back into the bedroom. I threw random things into random bags, doing things as quickly as possible. With Harry rushing too, we were finished in ten minutes.

Gemma was bandaging Olly's cuts when we left. He fought her brother and she still loved him.

When we were in the car, Harry was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were red and he was almost going twice the speed limit.

"I'm sorry. You hate me. I'm sorry," he repeated over and over.

"Pull over," I demanded.

"What?"

"Pull over."

He swerved off onto the side of the road.

"I just want you to know that I'm not mad at you for fighting that tool. I love you more than anything, I truly do, and a little bit of violence will never change that. The things Olly said tonight were horrible, but I know some of it got to me and you both. Please believe me when I say that you're not just my way of coping. You're the only person I love anymore and you're really the only person I care to love. We have long, hard days ahead of us, but I know that as long as we have each other, we'll be fine."

The last word barely left my mouth before his mouth was pressed up against mine. He kissed me passionately mouthing the words 'I love you' on my upper lip every time he got the chance.

"I'm sorry about tonight anyways," he said, pressing his forehead to mine.

He started to drive again, but this time much slower.

We were parked in the lot of our flat within an hour. We drug all of our messy luggage up the steps and down the corridor.

When I unlocked the door, we just threw our bags down, not caring where they went. Harry picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waste. He started to feverishly kiss me again while he walked to our bedroom.

For most people, it would've been kind of weird for their boyfriend to make love to them with blood on his hands and even a little on his face, but I wasn't paying attention to it. I was paying attention to the limitless love I had for Harry Styles.