“I never did say I was sorry, did I, love?” Harry muttered, alcohol prominent on his breath.

Olivia blinked, watching the attractive teen go in and out of focus for a few moments. After learning that One Direction was going to get to perform at The Royal Variety Performance, the boys had decided to do a little celebrating. Even Olivia had allowed herself to have a few drinks at their achievement. The phone call with Julia had riled her up. All Olivia wanted to do was forget.

“Sorry for what?” Olivia tipped back her third beer. “Being an ‘arse’.” A drunken snort erupted from her.

“Kissing you.” Harry answered simply, scooting closer to her on the red couch.

Zayn and Liam lay passed out on the floor. Louis was on the phone with Eleanor, declaring his undying love for the umpteenth time. Niall was on his fifth beer (and still going strong), trying to prove that being Irish made his drinking skills far superior. Harry and Olivia stared at each other on the couch, beers in hand.

Harry laughed unexpectedly. “You know, since One Direction, I don’t I’ve ever had to say I was sorry for kissing anyone. Who wouldn’t want to kiss Harry Styles from One Direction?” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head in disgust. “But that’s just it, yeah? They only want me because I’m Harry Styles from One Direction. Who’s Harry Styles without One Direction? Some poor bloke working at a bakery for the rest of their sad existence. I’m complacent with the attraction and attention. It’s second nature to me now, to be so self-absorbed that I can just take any fit bird I want and do away with them. They’re not people to me, they’re things. They’re my play-things.” Harry sipped his drink. “So, I’m not sure I remember how to say I’m sorry anymore. Not sincerely. Not truly. It’s been years since I’ve had to apologize to anyone but Lou. And even he knows I don’t really mean it. I’ll just go out and fuck up again and go through the motions but I’m never really sorry.”

Olivia sat still, allowing Harry to vent. She watched his lips intently, letting his words slip through her. She was too buzzed to really hear Harry and he wasn’t really talking to her anyway. His aside was only meant for an invisible audience, not Olivia.

It was hot in the room. Liam had turned up the heat, claiming to be freezing his bits off. The warmth made everyone sleepy. Olivia’s eyes felt drowsy. She pulled at her loose top. Harry watched her hungrily, forgetting his monologue.

His drunken brain told him that he had done what Louis told him to. He could take Olivia if he wanted. She would allow him to because he was Harry Styles from One Direction. No one said no to him. Olivia had been playing hard to get. Tonight she was going to cave. Harry could see it in her eyes, the way they danced around his face, settling on his lips. She wanted him. She ached for him. It had been a few days for Harry. Four days to be exact. It almost hurt him to not have caressed a woman’s soft skin for four days. To be pleased and have his name screamed out in climactic pleasure.

Tonight, Harry needed it. He needed it so bad that nothing else mattered. He didn’t care what would happen tomorrow. He needed Olivia now. He needed to take advantage of her warm body, her blurry eyes, her disconnected mind. She wouldn’t fight him. No, not tonight.

Harry slowly placed himself on top of Olivia. She stared up at him wordlessly. An hour ago her brain had shut off. There were no defenses to stop him, even if she wanted to.

Olivia’s head lay over the armrest as her motionless body covered the couch. A knee was placed on each side of her curvy chest, keeping her pinned. She didn’t mind, it felt secure. She liked feeling secure.

Harry’s heart was beating rapidly. Olivia’s was the opposite. He thumbed her long hair out of her face to see it clearer. She looked up at his with those big, sad eyes and Harry couldn’t take it any longer. He forced his lips on hers, only this time she didn’t protest. She pressed back. His sweaty hand snaked up her thin shirt, slipping upward to the place just before her bra. He pressed his thumb gently on the top of her ribcage. A soft moan fell from her lips.

Olivia’s hand grabbed through Harry’s curls roughly. He groaned, thrusting his body as close to hers as possible. Olivia slid her tongue in, catching Harry off guard. She pushed him up, taking charge. Harry loved it. Olivia snatched up a handful of Harry’s old band tee, yanking it upwards. He happily obliged, soon lying naked on the couch in nothing but his briefs.

They pulled apart and a mischievous grin graced Olivia’s lips as Harry eyed her unnecessary clothing. She pulled her hair back into an elastic band and Harry wondered for a moment where the cautious and guarded Olivia Mann had gone to. But, she slipped off her shirt, revealing her lacy bra, and any rational thoughts went out the window.

+ + +

Harry winced at the light that cascaded through the open window. His head was pounding. It had been awhile since he’d been that hammered. He pulled the puffy comforter over his eyes. The apartment was still unbearably warm and the body heat radiating from his side didn’t help the problem.

Harry propped up on his elbows, squinting to see Olivia’s naked form lying next to him. She seemed so peaceful. He knew the moment she woke up, he would never see her that peaceful and carefree again. He knew he had gone too far last night. He had simply kissed her and she didn’t speak to him directly for almost three days. Harry couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of hell he was in for because he took advantage of the drunken situation last night.

He didn’t move, didn’t breath, and didn’t blink in fear that even the most miniscule movement would unleash the wrath of God. The apartment was completely silent and Harry wondered if Niall was still up or if they were all still passed out cold in various places of their temporary home. He guessed the latter since the silence was so cold and overwhelming that none of his mates could have been up to take him away from this impending situation.

The sun was barely up. Harry’s eyes were adjusting to the soft stream coming through his half-pulled curtains. Most of his body was exposed between tangled sheets. He stared down at his bare chest, swearing that he could see his heart trying to burst through. The unbearable heat was starting to cause Harry to clam up. He had never been in this situation before. Either he slipped out early in the morning, or the latest shag would wake up and thank him and send him on his merry way, sometimes with the delightful surprise of morning sex.

Just as Harry was about to slip out of the thin sheet covering his leg, the weight shifted slightly in the bed. Harry jerked his panicked head to see Olivia stirring. He froze, watching her dark eyes flutter open. Grabbing a handful of sheet, Harry braced himself.

Olivia’s nose wrinkled cutely. Her eyes went out of focused, but when they came back, they targeted directly on Harry’s guilty face.

Harry felt like his throat was closing up. He should say something, he thought. Something—anything—to break the silence.

“Hi,” Was the first thing that came to mind. He was too terrified to smack himself for his idiocy.

Olivia didn’t know how to respond. She was acutely aware of how naked she was and how exposed Harry was. The dots were connecting at a crushing rate and all Olivia could do was stare.

“Olive,” Harry’s voice was thick.

Tears formed beadily in Olivia’s eyes before he could go on.

Harry’s green eyes gaped. This wasn’t something he was used to. No one had ever woken up to a night after sex and cried in Harry’s presence. Harry was paralyzed. He wasn’t wired to work this way. Olivia was crying. Olivia was breaking down in front of him.

And all Harry could do was lay there and watch with shameful eyes.

+ + +

In two years of One Direction, Harry had never once not wanted to perform. Sure, he’d been sick or nervous or read some bad press, but, he had never refused to take the stage before when he knew the lads were depending on him.

Today was a first for many things for Harry Styles. Olivia couldn’t look at him all day. All six of them had spent the entire day in an awkward blur, not completely sure what had gone done the drunken night before or how to handle it. Olivia remained tight-lipped, not even letting Louis know what was bothering her. Louis didn’t know enough to ask. Harry had kept himself pretty well put together.

Until just before the show.

He wasn’t sure what it was that finally made him crack. Maybe the guilt of ridding someone like Olivia of something short of her innocence was too much. Maybe he had finally developed a conscious after these past few years. Whatever it was that had building inside him came boiling over with Olivia.

Olivia Mann. Harry couldn’t even put his finger on why she had this annoying influence over him. Every time he closed his eyes to blink, Harry replayed her crying, naked in his bed. Then, an irrational anger would overcome him and Harry wanted to scream at Olivia for having the audacity to cause him this pain.

There was a rapid knock on Harry’s dressing room door. Quickly, he wiped the streak off his cheek and stood up. Louis walked in and shut the door behind him.

“What do you want?” Harry’s voice was thick.

“Harry,” Louis’ voice was soft and patronizing, like he had been telling Harry this would happen all along but Harry decided to do it anyway.

“She cried, Lou. She woke up, looked at me, and cried.” Harry stressed, like he was something indecent that Olivia couldn’t imagine waking up and finding she had stooped that low after only a few drinks.

As much as Louis wanted to be on Olivia’s side, he couldn’t. This was Harry Styles, his best mate. This was the man who would stand next to him at his wedding to Eleanor (and on the off chance Harry got hitched, Louis would be there, too). As soon as One Direction had been formed, they had made a pact to be there for each other, no matter what happened with their careers or lives. “We’re Larry Stylinson after all.” Harry had quipped, grinning his boyish grin instead of the smirk Louis had become so accustomed to since then.

So, instead of beating Harry up for his umpteenth mistake, Louis settled down on the couch and pulled Harry into a hug. They didn’t speak because there was nothing to say. Harry sniffed into Louis’ nice button-up he was wearing tonight and pulled away with red-rimmed eyes.

“It’s time to head out, Hazza.” Louis said kindly. “Blow your nose first.” He pointed to the stain on his shirt. “And now I’ve got to change again. You do realize I spent an hour picking out this shirt with Olivia. Now this outfit’s ruined.” He pouted, causing Harry to smile lightly.

“What a waste of an hour.” Harry grabbed a loose shirt that he almost wore and tossed it to Louis. “Wear this. Blue brings out your eyes.”

Louis winked and quickly undid the buttons of his shirt, slipping Harry’s on afterwards. “Let’s go break some hearts and cream some panties, yeah?”

Harry laughed and tossed his arm over Louis’ shoulder. “Yeah, mate.” Harry knew he could always count on Louis to make him feel better, even if it was only for a little while.

Or until he saw Olivia throwing her luscious brown locks into a pony tail while Niall grinned madly.

“You’re an idiot.” He heard Olivia breathe.

Niall laughed his infectious laugh and Olivia cracked a smile that brightened up her soft, beautiful complexion. Harry found himself aching to touch her warm body again. Briefly he caught her eye but she quickly turned back to Niall, listening a little too actively.

Harry sighed and let go of Louis. It was going to be a long week.