(So, um. Yeah, I locked myself away in the bathroom last night until I could stop crying. When you knocked on the door to ask if I was all right, and I told you I had the runs, I was fibbing. Sorry xx.)

Liam did not stop talking about you for the entire rest of the day, that first day we met. Zayn actually threatened to put packing tape over his mouth at one point, he was so tired of hearing it. I didn't join in the conversation much, though. I was lost in thought, replaying every word I'd said, though few. Every word you had said. I heard them all perfectly in your voice.

When Liam recounted your delivery of the sandwiches, I wanted to punch Louis for his stupid pun. Turned around. For god's sake. (God, and then your father used the same pun for his book title. What does that say about Louis??). I was so...irritated. Frustrated. I was captivated by your eyes, your smile, your every movement. So spellbound, I could hardly speak. But I was certain you thought I was a complete arse. And then I hear what arses the rest of them were being around you, and I just knew I'd never get another chance to talk to you, really talk to you.

I called my mum later that night, to let her know we were all moved in. It was quite early back home, but she already sounded wide awake, cheerful, ready to take on the day.

"I feel so much better knowing you're at Sal's place now," she sighed.

"Mum, honestly the other place was fine." It wasn't. It was a dump. A tiny one-bedroom dump that we had all packed into to save money. "You worry too much."

"Of course I worry, Harry. You're my baby. You'll always be my baby, no matter how old you get, no matter how far away you live."

Maybe I should have felt smothered or embarrassed, but I didn't. I don't. I was grinning broadly, pacing slowly from the kitchen to the living room and back. "I love you mum," I murmured. I wouldn't exactly say I'm a mummy's boy, since I left home at 16 and all, but I love my mum so much. She is the most caring, loving woman. She taught me how to be the man I am today, to respect every living creature and treat them with dignity. To work hard, to be generous, to be compassionate. To learn from my mistakes. She taught me how to love and to be loved.

I missed her so much. But I also knew that it would have been too easy just to stay there with her and never do anything with my life. That would have never been enough for me. I needed to strike out on my own, explore the world, have adventures. And her life back in Holmes Chapel was just a bit too quiet for me.

"Oh, my sweet boy. I love you," she murmured, getting emotional. That would get me emotional.

Before I did, I blurted, "I met Maddie Turner today."

"Really? How exciting. What's she like in person?"

Hot. "Funny," I chuckled as I recalled you bobbing your head like a chicken. "She's really funny. And she, uh, she bought us all sandwiches from Sal's."

I could hear her relaying the information to Gemma. And then scuffling as Gemma got on the phone. "What?" She screeched.

"Yeah, Maddie was cool."

"Did you get a picture with her?"

Errr. Oops. "Um. No. There wasn't really a right time to ask."

"Hm. Pics or it didn't happen, bro."

I laughed. "Okay. Whatever you say, Gem."

"Was she as pretty as she is on Turning Pages?" Her voice held all the wonder and awe I felt inside.

"Prettier." I smiled to myself again. "Absolutely gorgeous."

"Did you ask her about the show? Why she's leaving? Did you ask her about Jonas? Or how--"

"I didn't ask her anything, actually. I couldn't quite get my mouth to work."

"Awwww, Har-ry. Did you get all squishy and starstruck?"

I blushed stupidly, mumbling in annoyance.

I had to get off the phone with her. I coughed out a quick goodbye and hung up.

Just remembering the way you looked made me so hard. Still does if I'm honest. I had a proper wank in the shower before retiring for the night, picturing the way your skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. How you bit your lip. The way you inclined your head toward the passenger seat of your car, a slightly mischievous smile playing at your lips. I imagined fucking you in that car. Again, I'm sorry to be crass. But, well, it's the truth. I imagined you climbing into my lap, my hands pushing the hem of your dress up. In my mind, I could feel you tight around me, though I knew it was only my own hand. I quickened the movements of my wrist, coming into the stream of the shower with a quiet grunt.

So, not much was different from when I lived in England. Ha. Except now I had seen you in the flesh, had been close enough to count the freckles on your shoulder--though that would have taken me ages. I love the way your skin is spotted brown, but still so pale underneath.

I saw you on campus a few times the next week, usually hurrying from the carpark toward your class. Okay. Every day. I saw you every day the next week. There was this bench against the building next to the lot, and I dunno, you just never glanced back over your shoulder as you hurried to class. But if you had, just once, you would have caught me, pretending to read a book, watching you hastily cut a path across the school. What was it you said...stalker-level obsessed. That's a pretty apt description of how I was behaving. There was a part of me--a large part--that wanted you to turn around and see me and say hi and then I could redeem myself. But the other part of me liked watching you without you knowing I was there. God, I sound like such a fucking creep. Please, please don't leave me.

The next Saturday, Niall and I sat lazily on the couch together, playing a round of golf on the Xbox. Louis complained that digital golf was worse than the real thing and stomped off to the backyard to smoke.

"Crazy meeting Maddie Turner, eh?" Niall said, nudging me lightly.

He had no idea. "Yeah. Crazy."

"What'sa matter?"

I shook my head. "Nothin. I just...I got all tongue-tied when I met her."

"Me too, mate." Niall grinned at me. "I didn't speak a fucking word to her."

"Probably for the best. At least we didn't gush like a 12-year-old-girl, like Liam."

"Hey! I can hear you!" He called from the kitchen. I knew he was there. I was just winding him up.

Niall doubled over laughing. It was infectious. Even Liam was cracking up. Once I was sure he had gone back outside to join Louis, I turned to Niall. "For real though mate, I think she likes him."

Niall widened his eyes at me. "What makes ya think that?"

"Well, like she kept laughing and smiling and she shook his hand, and I dunno. I just...do."

"I think she likes you, Harry." It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. I added a definitive shake of the head. "Yeah, mate. Why would she go all the way down to the truck place? The what's it called--"

"Rent-a-Mover."

"Yeah, that, why would she go all the way there if she didn't fancy you?"

Did she? Could she? I mean. I guess you did, didn't you? I didn't stop smiling that whole day, even when I was run ragged working at the shop with Sal.

When we first moved out to Cali, and we were living up in that shitty flat in the valley, I worked at his franchised store in Sherman Oaks. He was never on site. It was fine; I worked hard, made him and my mum proud. But working for him here at the original location was rough. He was a bit of a dictator, truth be told, barking at me all the time. I hated it. I still hate it.

But one thing made working there worth it: he told me you came in all the time.

"She's here at least once a week, Harry," he'd said when I asked about you buying the sandwiches.

"Really?" I nodded my head, impressed that he'd interacted with you so regularly. And a tinge jealous too. "What does she get?"

"Uh-uh. Customer confidentiality," he smirked at me, wagging his finger.

"That's not a thing," I protested. Is it? "Come on, just a hint. The ones she got for us, are those her regular choices? Like, did she buy us her favourites?"

"No comment," he insisted. "Now get back to work! Go! We just got a shipment in. It's not going to unpack itself."

"Fine," I gave in. I hated the tone he took with me, but the glint in his eyes suggested he wasn't as strict as he seemed. And it was a job. I really needed the cash.

The next week, I watched you arriving on campus again. And on the fourth day, the history class the lads and I were taking together was canceled. They all went to have a smoke, and as I turned away from them, I saw you jogging away from the carpark again. I followed at a slight distance and watched you go into the same building you always had class in. I sat down on a bench in the tree-lined path, playing with my phone and occasionally glancing back up to the building. Shit. There you were, in a dress now instead of jeans, surrounded by a whole film crew. You looked so irritated, so miserable, and I couldn't help but grin. It was like I was seeing the real you, past the cameras and the scripts. How you really felt was written all over your face. Your team filmed a few shots, and when it was over, you stared out at the path, yet you didn't seem to see me. I stood awkwardly. Hoping you'd notice me. Yet also hoping you wouldn't, and I could slip away.

You turned in my direction and waved your hands in a square. I didn't understand what you were trying to say. I didn't realize you were talking to the guy next to you. (Of whom I was also insanely jealous. He spoke to you so calmly, so casually. Why couldn't I do that?) I sort of shrugged, and you smiled at me. My heart lurched. I knew I was smiling like an absolute doofus, but I couldn't stop. You had smiled at me. I watched your face change when you saw me. You. Smiled. At. Me.

And then you nodded. Were you saying yes to me? What was the question? I didn't care. I just kept smiling at you. I considered walking over to you, but my feet were stuck in place, as if they'd been swallowed up by the cement. And then the guy walked away, and you still hadn't broken eye contact with me. And, God Maddie, I don't quite know how to explain it, but it was a moment. A moment charged with electricity. It was, up to that point, the best moment of my life.

A moment interrupted by a horde of fans asking for a picture. I watched your face change again, from a smile to a scowl and back to a smile, but this one was different. This one said, "I have to," not "I want to." It was a strange moment for me, as a fan, to watch you there with them. I felt bad for you. It made me glad I hadn't been able to form words when we first met, so that I hadn't asked you for a photo. You just looked so...imposed upon. I hated that for you. I hated that you seemed unable even to carry on with your classes in peace.

But then my thoughts were disrupted by the lads joining me. "What's going on up there?" Niall asked.

"Maddie Turner's just been surrounded by fans taking selfies," I explained.

"Dammit," Liam muttered. "I should have asked her for a picture."

I laughed out loud.

And before I realized it, you were standing in front of me, right next to Liam. "What's so funny?" you sounded sarcastic.

I took a deep breath and tried to give you sarcastic back, speaking slowly so as not to fuck it up, "Liam was just lamenting that he didn't ask you for a picture." I smirked at you, hoping you'd find the humor in it after the mob you'd just escaped.

Liam looked like he was going to kill me and hid his face in his hands. I wanted to laugh more for having gotten the upper hand on him. "I hate you, Haz," he whined.

You laughed. I felt a moment of triumph until I realized you had really laughed at what he said. Fuck. "We can take a picture," you said, resting your hand on Liam's shoulder. I clenched my teeth. It was ridiculous. He seemed to me to be making such a fool of himself. But you responded to that. I would have gladly made a fool of myself if it meant you'd have touched me. But I couldn't even manage that. I was petrified again, completely frozen.

I relaxed for a moment when his voice squeaked up about two octaves, eliciting another laugh from the lot of us. "Really?"

You shrugged and reassured him, saying something about strangers. Implying we were more than strangers? Could that be what you meant?

Zayn nudged me discreetly. Liam was holding his phone out to me. You curled your arm around his waist, pressing your body against his. I snapped a picture even though it was blurry. Served him right.

"I can't even...," Liam said, in awe. He was pathetic. And I so badly wished I were him. That it was my arm around your shoulder, that I could feel your breath on my cheek. Fuck. I pressed my lips into a thin line, trying to keep my composure, but I could feel my face reddening with...I don't know, anger, frustration, jealousy. A little bit of each, even.

Louis fumbled to make a joke at Liam's expense, failing rather miserably. Was he affected by you as well? "You can't even because you're odd. You're strange. Very strange. Stranger."

You looked at me and busted out laughing again.

And you looked so beautiful laughing, I took another few pictures. Before handing the phone back to Liam, I sent them to myself.

"What are you...um...what are...I mean, are you busy right now?" Liam had balls. I would give him that. He just seemed to have no fear talking to you, stammering aside. He was actually asking you out. Fuck. Did this mean I'd officially missed my chance? "I-I mean, we were gonna go eat. Um, you could...would you want to...?"

"Oh for god's sake Liam," Louis interrupted, exasperated. Maybe he wasn't so starstruck after all. "Maddie, come have a bite with us, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, glancing at me again. My heart was beating so hard. You looked at me when you said yes. Maybe I was still in the running... "Why not?" You shrugged.

"I could give you hundreds of reasons why not," Louis smirked, "but Liam would kill me. Come to think of it, so would H--"

I grabbed Louis in a headlock, covering his mouth before he could say anything else. Fucking arsehole. As we walked over to the food court, I growled in Louis' ear to keep his bloody mouth shut. He just gave me an impish look that said nothing was promised. Niall winked at me, and I hung back a bit to walk next to him, watching Louis and Liam taunt each other all the way through the food line. Okay, I may have been watching the way your skirt moved with every step you took, but I was listening to the taunts.

"Get a seat next to her when we sit down, mate," Niall whispered to me as we swiped our ID cards.

I shoved him lightly. "Shut it." But of course that's what I intended to do.

I blocked Zayn's path as he tried to slide in beside you, shaking my head subtly at him. He relented and moved across the table, "literature," he said as he sat down. What?

You were laughing so much. It was so lovely. You were so lovely.

I couldn't take my eyes off your face as I slid in beside you. Your eyes were so dark, framed by heavy long lashes. I felt like I was being pulled into them, irretrievably drawn into the abyss. And you just stared back, waiting. What were you waiting for? I realized Zayn had told you his major, so I gathered myself and said, "Creative writing."

"Music," added Louis, when you finally looked away from me and over to him.

I realized I was still staring at the side of your face and redirected my eyes down to my food. "Music, like playing or producing or..." It was surreal to be sitting so close to you, my elbow and thigh touching yours. I focused my attention on those spots, on the heat from our bodies connecting. It stirred me in ways I really wish it hadn't in that moment, my jeans becoming uncomfortably tight. But I wouldn't have pulled away for all the money in the world.

I swallowed a bit of food, though I couldn't really taste it, and heard Niall say, "I don't know. I'm just sort of dicking around." He'd made you laugh now, too.

Liam seemed to have composed himself completely. "Music," he leaned forward to see past me. "Playing and producing."

"What do you play?" You asked, your breath skimming my arm, raising goosebumps.

Liam carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "I play guitar. Louis plays piano and keyboard. Niall's on drums. Harry plays bass, and Zayn sings." God, how could they all talk to you so easily? How could they just act normal? I was dying here. I felt my cheeks flush and prayed you didn't notice.

You looked at Niall and Louis. "Wait. Are you guys, like, a band?"

Before I knew what I'd done, I said, "Like, yeah." Shit. You shot me a dirty look and rolled your eyes again. I smiled apologetically, wishing I could take back those two stupid words. Wishing I could get my brain and mouth to cooperate with one another again, let alone to cooperate with me. You looked away, and my heart dropped. Fuck. All I ever seemed to get from you was disdain. I needed to try again. I needed say something that would engage you. Think, goddammit. Finally, I decided on simple reciprocation. I formed my words slowly in my mind, and then finally aloud, "What are you studying?"

"Film." One fucking word.

I didn't speak the rest of the meal, just utterly gutted, your smile from before temporarily forgotten. Liam and Louis and Niall all had you eating out of their palms, but I just couldn't seem to get your attention. I ached with the desire to get to know you (literally, if ya know what I mean...and figuratively). But for some reason, I felt like there was a wall between us that I just couldn't get through. I couldn't get through to you. And even though that smile from before was a flicker of hope, I was nearly ready to give up.

Thank god I didn't, my love. I thank god every day that you haven't given up on me either. xx

~~~~~

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Ilygsm 😘

Oh and by the way. The note in italics at the start is Harry to Maddie not me to you. Lol