*Olivia Harper*
I walked out of the store with two ice cream tubs in a bag. I figured if I picked Harry up right now, we could go home and binge on ice cream right before dinner. It seemed silly, because we would end up filling our stomachs with just that, leaving no space for dinner. But I was okay with that, and I figured Harry was too.
As I was walking to my car, I spotted three guys laughing. I was about to look away, when I realized one of them was Dylan.
Oh great, I thought to myself. I was going to have to face this asshole again.
I lowered my head, hoping they wouldn’t notice it was me, and acted like I hadn’t seen them. When they neared me, I could hear what they were saying.
“…and he’s finally going to leave her alone.” Dylan was saying.
“How can you be so sure, man?” the other guy asked.
“Dude, did you see the way I beat him up?” Dylan asked. “If he has any brains, he won’t touch Olivia again.”
I stopped mid-step, and my heart lurched. I’d heard my name in their conversation, and I’d also heard something about beating someone up. My mind immediately raced to one name, but I didn’t even want to think about it.
“Dylan, man, we just left him lying in the alley like that…”
“Let him rot there. Let him die,” Dylan spat. “Once he’s gone, Olivia won’t care anyway.”
I was almost certain they were talking about Harry now. Who else would they beat up to threaten them to stay away from me?
Dylan and his friends walked by me, and thankfully, they hadn’t seen or noticed me. The moment they were a safe distance away, I rushed to the alley I’d seen them coming from.
I could see a crouching figure next to the bins, and with every step I took towards it, Harry’s shape was becoming more evident. Please don’t be Harry, please don’t be Harry…
But it was. Because when I was near enough to see properly who it was, I instantly recognized the curls, though they were messed up, and a few strands stuck to his forehead with blood. His face was bruised, and his beautiful green eyes were shut as he lay still against the wall.
“Harry!” I cried, and ran towards him. I crouched down next to him, setting the bag of ice cream on the ground. “Harry?”
I pulled him onto me, his head falling against my chest. “Harry, open your eyes, you idiot.” I said desperately, shaking his shoulder and patting his cheek. “Come on, come on. HARRY!” Panic coursed through my veins as Harry continued to lie limp against me. Tears pricked the back of my eyes and I gritted my teeth, my attempts to wake him up becoming more frantic.
“Harry, open your motherfucking eyes,” I sobbed. “Harry. Harry!”
To my immense relief, a slight groan escaped his lips and his eyes fluttered open, even if only a little. There was blood dripping down his chin, and I wiped it away with my thumb.
“Harry?” I asked softly. “Dude?”
Harry groaned again and made an effort to speak. Finally, he let out a strange noise which bordered on a chuckle. “Hey,” he breathed, and I sighed. “Hurting…my…shoulder…”
I immediately released my grip on his shoulder, and sighed, relieved. “Thank God.” I said. “I thought you died.”
“Feel…d-dead.” He mumbled. “Stop…crying.”
Only when he said that did I realize that I had, in fact, been crying. His hand lifted up slightly at the same time that mine did, but of course, I beat him to it, and wiped my tears away. “Did that asshole do this? Dylan? Did he?”
Harry grinned slightly and let out another strangled chuckle. “Mmhmm.”
“Harry, I have to take you to the doc, come on.”
“I’m…okay.” He mumbled, and made a feeble attempt to sit up straight. He let out a painful groan as he did so.
“No, no, no.” I scolded. “You wait here, you shit head. I’m calling the guys.”
“Don’t—!” Harry started hurriedly. “They’ll get w-worried.”
“Yeah, well, that’s too bad.” I said, and hurriedly fished my phone out of my pocket, and dialed Louis’ number.
—-
*Hours later*
“Tomorrow, I promise,” Louis said, pacing around the room, “I am going to kill Dylan. I’m serious, I am going to kick his scrawny bum.”
“Mate, you’re not going to be alone.” Zayn promised, and cracked his knuckles threateningly.
I sat on the couch, tapping my foot. I could hear what the boys were saying, but I wasn’t registering their words. I was sick with worry. Harry was sleeping upstairs, and we had all been asked to give him some rest. But all I wanted in that moment was to be upstairs with him, making sure to watch every breath he took.
“Liv,” a voice right beside me said, making me jump. I looked over to see Liam sitting next to me, smiling slightly. “Harry is okay.”
“Yeah, thank God for that.” Niall sighed. “Dylan isn’t going to be, though.”
“Stop blaming yourself for all of this.” Liam said softly.
My eyes widened. “How—?”
“I just know.” He said, smiling. “It’s not your fault, okay?”
But I couldn’t help but feel like it was. Dylan and Harry were fighting because of me. Dylan had asked Harry to stay away from me. I was the root of their quarrel, and now Harry was lying upstairs, beaten up because of me. No, Liam was wrong. I was the only one to blame. I was the one who had suggested the stupid deal. I was the reason Harry and I became friends in the first place.
“How can you even say that?” I asked him. “If it hadn’t been for me—”
“No, Liv,” Louis said. “The only one to blame here is that ass Dylan.”
I sighed and looked down, trying not to let any of the boy see my eyes swimming with tears. Liam wrapped an arm around me and stroked my arm soothingly.
“It’s getting late,” Niall said after a while. “One of us stays here with Harry. Liv, I’ll drop you—”
“No.” I cut across him. “I want to stay here with Harry.”
“Liv, if I leave you alone here, you’re not going to sleep.” Niall said firmly. “You’ll just keep worrying the whole night.”
“I’ll worry more if I’m not here.” I said. “You guys, please. It’s okay, I’ll be fine.”
“Let her stay here.” Liam said. “If you need anything, call us, okay?”
I nodded. “I will.” I promised.
“I kept the ice cream you bought in Harry’s freezer, by the way.” Zayn said. “In case you need it.”
“Oh, I will.” I said.
I walked them to the door. Louis turned to me. “You don’t mind finding your ex-boyfriend half dead, do you? Because he will be.”
“Half dead?” Liam asked.
I chuckled humourlessly, and then let all of the boys hug me one by one. Niall turned to me and asked me if I were sure I’d be okay. I nodded and assured him I would be. They walked out and I shut the door behind them.
I felt sick. My stomach was thick with guilt, and I was trying my hardest not to cry. I walked up the stairs and to Harry’s room, where he was currently asleep. I hesitated slightly, before placing my hand on the door and pushing it.
The little light streaming through the window allowed me to see Harry, as he lay still on the bed. I walked up to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He was asleep, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. Most of his forehead was covered with a white bandage, and his face was covered in cuts and bruises. I hesitantly touched his face and stroked his cheek. He sighed slightly, and leaned his head towards my hand.
To my surprise, as I continued stroking his cheek, his eyes fluttered open. I hurriedly withdrew my hand.
He groaned and looked around, before his eyes focused on me. “Olivia?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” I said hurriedly. “Go—go back to sleep.”
I got up, but he caught my wrist in his hand. “No, wait.” He said shakily. “Where are you going?”
“Out of the room,” I answered, “to let you sleep.”
Harry made an attempt to sit up, but then groaned again. I rolled my eyes. “Harry, you little shit, lie down. Don’t strain yourself.” I scolded. “Do you want to die?”
Harry chuckled, but tried to sit up again. This time, he succeeded, and managed to sit up, propped up against the head board, albeit sucking in a sharp, painful breath. He flicked the switch next to him and the lights came on. Then he looked up at me. “Sit down.”
“Go to sleep.”
“Sit down.”
“Go to sleep.”
“Sit down.”
“Go to sleep.”
“Olivia, I can go on forever with this.” Harry said. “Shut up and sit down.”
I sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Harry smiled at me. “Are you okay?”
I stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re asking me if I’m okay?” I asked incredulously. “Harry, you got beaten up almost to death.”
Harry snorted. “Please, those assholes weren’t strong enough for that.” He said. “No, I mean it. You look like someone died.”
“You did.” I said. “I mean, almost. You almost died, Harry.”
“No, I didn’t.” he said.
“Yes you did.” I insisted, my voice shaking. “And it’s my fault.”
Harry frowned. “What?” he asked. “How is it your fault?”
“If I hadn’t suggested this stupid deal, you and I wouldn’t have even gotten to know each other.” I said. “And Dylan wouldn’t have—” I broke off, gritting my teeth as tears threatened to escape once more.
“Wait, hold on.” Harry said. “You’re blaming yourself for this? Olivia, I’m fine.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No!” he said. “Look, I’m okay. I didn’t die, did I? If Dylan thinks he scared me off with this whole thing he did, he’s wrong.”
“Stop it,” I said. “Stop trying to be so damn brave, Harry.”
“What, so you want me to stop talking to you?” he asked me. “Because Dylan wasn’t man enough to face me alone?”
I remained quiet, not knowing how to reply to that. “It could have gotten really out of hand, Harry.” I said after a while.
“But it didn’t!” he insisted. “Olivia, stop baby-ing me so much. I’m okay.”
I didn’t reply again, but continued staring down at my lap, as tears fell down my cheeks. I heard Harry sigh and then he placed his large hand over mine. “Come here.”
“No.” I mumbled, my voice breaking.
“Come here, Olivia.” He repeated, tugging at my arm.
I let him pull me into a hug. As I rested my head on his shoulder and cried, he stroked my back. It was funny. He was the one who was hurt, but somehow, he was comforting me. That’s how it always was. Somehow, I ended up being the one who needed to be comforted, the vulnerable one, while Harry was the strong one, encouraging and comforting me.
“I was so scared.” I sobbed. “I thought you—I—”
“I know.” He said. “But it’s okay. I’m okay.”
I pulled away slightly, blinking away tears. Harry slowly wiped my tears away, and then took my face in his hands. “For some who fucking hates crying, you sure do cry a lot.” He commented, smiling slightly.
“Oh, shut up.” I mumbled, sniffing.
“Come on, smile.” He pleaded.
I stretched my lips and bared my teeth at him to show off my fake smile. Harry laughed.
“Attractive.” He commented.
“Go to sleep,” I said. “You need rest.”
“Want to sleep with me?” he asked me.
I raised an eyebrow. “I doubt you’re in any shape to—”
“Jesus,” he said, cutting me off. “You know, you have a one track mind. I meant just sleep. Like, do you want to share the bed with me?”
“Oh.” I mumbled, catching on to what he meant. “I don’t know, I could sleep on the couch…”
“Oh come on, I can’t let you do that.” He said. He patted the empty space next to him. “Come on.”
“Harry…”
“I won’t rape you in your sleep.” Harry promised jokingly. “We both know how it will turn out for me.”
I chuckled, and then sighed. “Okay.”
“Great. Why don’t you grab one of my shirts from the cupboard?” he suggested. “Those jeans look awfully tight.”
I nodded, and got up. Five minutes later, I stepped out of the bathroom in one of Harry’s t-shirts, and walked over to the bed. Harry was still sitting up, but I could see how much he was struggling to keep his eyes open. I quickly turned the lights off and crawled under the blankets next to him. We both lay down on our backs.
Harry groaned. I looked up at him quickly, worried. “What?” I asked him, wondering if he was in pain.
“You’re not wearing a bra, are you?” he muttered under his breath.
I laughed. “Who sleeps with a bra on?” I asked him, referring to a conversation we’d once shared when Harry had sneaked into my bedroom in the middle of the night to repay the favour I’d done for him in the car.
“Well, I wish you would have worn one tonight.” He said, looking over at me. “How am I supposed to sleep now?”
I giggled. “Sleep.” I told him. “When you’re better, celebratory blow job.”
“Yes!” he hissed like a five year old child.
The next few moments were spent in silence, as I tried to fall asleep. Harry was breathing evenly next to me, and I assumed he was asleep. The distance between us, though minimal, seemed like miles. A part of me wanted to close it and hold him as I slept, but I dismissed the thought as silly. After all, a very important rule of being fuck buddies was no cuddling.
But when Harry spoke, all of that flew out of the window.
“I can’t sleep like this.”
“Huh?” I asked, surprised that he was awake.
“Come here.” He mumbled.
I frowned. “What?”
“Come here.” He said. “I’m sick, and I need a nice cuddle.”
“Technically, you’re not sick.” I pointed out.
“Harper, I’m sleepy, okay? Shut up and get over here.”
I sighed and scooted over towards him. “If I touch you—”
“I will not break.” Harry said, and I could sense him rolling his eyes, even in the dark.
I carefully placed my head on his arm. “Okay?” I checked.
“Okay.” He assured me. I relaxed slightly, and then wrapped one arm around his torso, where my own hand met Harry’s. Harry wrapped his other arm around me, and sighed.
“See?” he asked. “Isn’t this better?”
“Hmm.” I mumbled. “It is. Harry?”
“What?”
“You’re really okay, right?” I asked him.
“Babe, I’m fine.” He promised. “And don’t you dare say sorry.”
“How did you now I was going to?” I asked, smiling slightly.
“I know you.” He stated simply. “Sleep. I promise I’m okay.”
“Goodnight, Harry.”
Harry’s arms tightened around me slightly, and he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “Goodnight, Harper.”
—-
*Next school Day*
“Niall,” Louis protested, moving his tray away from the Irish boy’s extended hand, “you already ate your pudding. Don’t steal mine.”
“Louis—” Niall started.
“No!” Louis cut him off, and Niall pulled away, making a face.
“Ass-wipe.” Niall said, and all of us laughed at him. Liam handed Niall his own pudding.
“Here you go, Horan.” He said. “Eat my disgusting pudding.”
“Thanks, bro!” Niall said happily.
“Let’s grab some food for Harry on our way home.” Zayn suggested. “And Niall, don’t finish it off in the car.”
“God, I won’t.” Niall said, gobbling up down his pudding. “I’m not a pig, you guys.”
As we were laughing, I spotted a familiar figure walking in from the corner of my eye. I looked up to see Dylan walking in. Anger boiled in my stomach when I saw him, and I balled my fists. The boys looked in the direction I was staring in, and they stopped laughing.
“I’ve been waiting for this asshole to show up.” Niall said, setting his unfinished pudding down.
“Not in the cafeteria, Ni.” Liam said. “Or in the school. You can get into trouble.”
“The only one in trouble is that asshole.” Niall promised.
As if the timing was perfectly planned, Dylan turned to look at our table. He smirked slightly, and to my surprised, walked over to us. He stood in front of the table, crossing his arms and grinning smugly.
“What’s up, losers?” he asked, and then looked over at me. “Hi, there.”
“Dude—” Louis began, as he started to rise from the table.
The next few seconds were a blur, in which I’d already sprang up from my seat, and suddenly, my hand was flying the air, making painful contact with Dylan’s face, causing a loud crack! noise to echo across the lunch hall. Everyone turned around to look at us, and the boys stared at me, shocked.
“You—” Dylan started, glaring at me.
“No.” I said. “Listen to me, you asshole. I realize now that my words aren’t enough to make you realize that we are not together. I hope my hand explains it better. Beating Harry up with a bunch of your friends because you’re not man enough to take him one on one will not make me fall in love with you. Because I never was. And you weren’t in love with me either. Now, I swear to God, I see you pull something like that again—no, I see you even fifty yards near me, I am going to punch your motherfucking face off and make sure your ass lands in jail for what you did. Do you understand?”
Every single eye in the lunch hall was on us. I heard the boys snigger behind me, as Dylan started down at me, livid. An angry red hand print had formed on his cheek, which gave me immense satisfaction. He moved towards me, but I heard the boys rise behind me immediately.
“Unless you want the four of us to collectively beat your ass,” Liam said, “I’d suggest you step away from her right now and turn your sorry bum around and leave the same way you entered.”
“You’ve made a huge mistake, you whore.” Dylan snarled. “The way I beat that shit head up, I’m sure he’s almost dead anyway. What are you going to do then?”
“Not come back to you, that’s for sure.” I snapped. He glared at me one last time, before turning around and marching off.
—-
“The noise echoed across the whole damn hall.” Niall said, as he recalled what had happened in the lunch hall to Harry.
“Really?” Harry asked, laughing. He adjusted the pillow behind him and leaned back against it. “You slapped him?”
“He had it coming.” I said. “He wasn’t even scared or sorry for what he did. That smug look on his face—I just wanted to slap it right off.”
“So you did.” Louis said, tossing a grape in the air and catching it in his mouth. Everyone cheered and clapped as he did so, and he raised his hands dramatically, nodding at us all.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Well, I hope we’re not done with him.” Zayn said. “Because a slap isn’t enough.”
“Yeah, we’re just going to lock him up in a room with Liam.” Louis said. “He won’t stand a chance.”
As everyone turned to each other to talk about what a great idea it was, Harry motioned at me go to him. I walked over to him and sat down.
“You slapped him, huh?” he asked, smiling. “That’s hot. Wish I was there to see that.”
I laughed. “I can repeat that for you, if you want.” I offered. “I don’t mind slapping him twice. I was thinking, I may as well throw in a knee in the crotch?”
“Speaking for crotches,” Harry said, “I am still waiting on that blowjob you promised me.”
“When you get better.” I reminded him.
“Oh, after hearing what you did today,” Harry said, “I’m way better. Also, like I said, that was hot and now you’ve just made things worse for me.”
I laughed, and leaned in so none of the other boys, who were busy in their own conversations, would hear. “I sort of like you like this.” I whispered to Harry. “All…needing and wanting, but unable to help yourself. It’s so hot.”
“Oh, I can help myself.” He said, but his voice was shaking slightly, and I knew my words had an effect on him, even if only slightly.
“Really?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “Well, I guess then you can do that. I guess I can help myself too. But you don’t get to see.”
Harry groaned softly. “God, the idea of seeing you touching yourself…”
“Forget about it, big boy.” I teased. “You’re not going to see it happening.”
He pouted. “I do get the blowjob, right?”
“Celebratory?” I reminded him. “When you get better?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Harry said. “You slapping Dylan seems like a reason to celebrate.”
“Mm, but I thought you could help yourself?” I asked. “So, maybe your hand can join you.”
Harry frowned sadly. “You know, I’m in a fragile state.” He said. “You’re supposed to be nice to me.”
“What do you want me to do, dress as a nurse and give you a sponge bath?” I asked, laughing.
“Actually,” Harry said, his eyes suddenly bright, “that’s not a bad idea!”

Notes

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