Know: A Harry Styles Fan Fiction

I haven't woken up next to someone since my last serious boyfriend in high school and even then, it was only once that he snuck out and spent the night with me. He, as I discovered shortly after, had been secretly doing the same thing with a handful of other girls from school. I still haven't spoken to him since then, and I have no desire to.

It's bizarre waking up next to another person when you've been used to waking up alone for a while, and it's bizarre for a few reasons. First, you stretch out your arms like you normally do every morning and bump something under your covers, which is followed by a grunt. Second, you pull off the covers to discover a guy mid-yawn with his twisty curls sticking up in all directions like a lion going through a rebellious phase with his mane. Third, you ask the guy, slightly panicked, "Did we sleep together?"

And he goes, "Yes. I mean no! I mean, erm..." Harry nervously combs a hand through his messy locks, doing nothing to tame it. "Yes, we did sleep together," he clarifies. Then, in a hushed tone, he says, "but no, we didn't sleep together."

I hardly notice what he's saying because I'm too distracted. I don't know what it is about his sleepy, gravelly voice that drives me so wild on the inside but I have to resist the urge to drag him under the covers and never come back out ever again.

Yanking me out of my fantasies are clattering dishes and running water sounding from the kitchen. Holy shit, if Effy is up, what time is it?

Better question, "What day is it?" I ask aloud.

"Friday," Harry answers.

I plop back on my pillow and exhale a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh yeah, your day off, right?" he asks.

"Yes," I gleefully reply.

"Lucky you," he says. "I've got to go to the studio today. We're close to wrapping up our third album."

As Harry slides on his shoes, I seriously consider asking him if he can leave from my window instead. I know how this will look to Effy. If she sees him come out of my room right now, I'll never hear the end of it.

He notices that I'm still wrapped under my comforter and casts me a puzzled stare.

"I should get going, Jules," he says. "Like... now."

"Okay, I'll walk you out," I say, reluctantly trudging out of bed.

Effy spots us right as we step into the hall. She looks up from the frying pan and smiles, not a trace of shock on her face.

"Good morning, you two," she says nonchalantly, like we do this all the time.

"Er, morning, Effy," I reply. "You remember Harry..."

"You're the boy bander, right?" Effy says.

"Yeah, I'm one of those five silly lads," he responds with a slanted smile.

Something's up with Effy. She's taking this way too calmly. I narrow my eyes, trying to read her, but her smile is airtight.

After I walk Harry through the front door, he snugly wraps his arms around me.

"Have fun today," I mumble under the fabric of his cotton sweater. "Sing your heart out."

"You too. Don't work too hard."

"Right. 'Work hard, play hard.'"

"And be kind," he adds, pecking the top of my head before releasing from our embrace. "Don't forget to be kind."

No more than half a second after I shut the door, Effy says, "Oh... my... god..." with the longest pause possible between each word.

There she is. I was starting to get worried.

"I guarantee you nothing happened," I say before she can bombard me with questions.

"You bloody liar!" she half shrieks, half giggles. "You're going to tell me he spent the night and nothing happened?"

"Yeah," I reply. "I'm going to tell you that because it's true."

Effy fills up two plates with scrambled eggs, sausage, and slices of toast and pushes one across the table to me. It's a little late in the day for breakfast but I'm starving so I don't comment on it.

"I don't know if I can believe you, my dear," she says.

"You don't have to," I reply, shoveling eggs onto the corner of my toast. "But I wouldn't lie about something like that."

"Hmm... alright." She chews thoughtfully on her bite of sausage. "What was he doing over anyway?"

"He was just dropping by. He said he was in the area."

"Did he tell you that?" Effy chuckles.

Eyeing her curiously, I say, "Yeah, why?"

She takes a gulp of her tea. "Bristol isn't exactly in the area."

"How do you know he was in Bristol?"

"I was watching the tele at work, I know, it was that slow last night, and I saw your little boy toy on one of the channels. They were filming live at some charity event in Bristol and they were interviewing One Direction."

"Bristol?" I repeat quietly to myself. That's at least a two hour trip, on a good day.

Had he really made that effort to see me, and to do what? Help me sort artwork for an internship and listen to old music? Admittedly, I think last night went pretty swell, but it doesn't seem like the kind of thing someone drives two hours for. I almost feel guilty that we didn't do anything more exciting.

"So, are you still holding onto your 'just friends' load of crap?" Effy asks.

"Yep," I say, trying to keep my expression firm.

"You know what's really weird?" I say, switching the topic before she can dig further about Harry.

"What?"

"Waking up with another person in your bed."

"You get used to it eventually," she answers, shrugging.

"Well, now I know how you feel. Except, for you, there's always different people," I note. "It's like Wheel of Fortune, but with men. Wheel of Men!"

Effy's jaw drops and she flings a piece of bread crust at me. "Shut up! I don't even do that anymore. Not since Ansel."

"Oh yeah, I haven't seen him in a while. I kinda miss his shirtlessness and cartoon-watching on our couch."

"He's been busy," she sighs, pulling her knee up on the chair and resting her chin on it. "Long hours at the hospital."

"He works at a hospital?" I ask in surprise.

"Chief surgeon," she replies.

"Jesus, how old is this guy?"

She rolls her eyes. "Does age really matter?"

"40," I begin guessing. "39. 38. Higher or lower? Help me out here."

"36," she answers in a small voice.

"Thirty-six," I echo, drawing out the two impressive digits.

"He doesn't look at all that old!" she hastily defends. "And he's really sweet, such a darling."

She's so animated as she tells me the cute things he does on their dates and how he goes out of his way to surprise her when they've been apart for a while. Her hazel eyes gleam when she talks about him, so bright, they're almost gold.

Even though I haven't known her that long, I can tell by the way she avoids conversations about her past that she's never been in a real relationship before. Ansel may come off as a bit of a loser and he's seventeen years older than her, but she sees something in him that makes her shine. And if she was willing to forfeit her, well, promiscuous lifestyle, I'm extremely curious to find out why.

"I'm happy for you, Effy," I say with a warm smile and squeeze of her hand. "But if you're gonna keep seeing him, can he at least pitch in for milk?"

Notes

>>>Poll is still open! (will be until ch. 25 is posted) Your opinion is quite valuable :)