The scent of food filled my nose and I felt my eyebrows furrow in confusion. I rolled over in my bed and paused. I wasn’t in my bed, I was at practice… my eyes snapped open and I found myself laying in my bed, wrapped up in my comforter. I sat up groggily and yawned, stretching like a cat and looking at the clock on my nightstand. It was 8:00 at night and it appeared that somehow I had gotten home and into my bedroom.

I got up from my bed and padded across my room, opening the door and raising an eyebrow as I saw who was standing in my kitchen cooking. It was quite a funny sight, but somehow it felt… normal to see Harry with his back turned to me, The Fray playing from the iPod dock. He had a simple shirt and jeans on, a towel thrown over his shoulder, and singing softly to the song with that voice of his.

I crossed my arms over my chest, smiling as I walked quietly over to him. He never turned around as I sat down at the bar stool, fighting a huge grin as I leaned forward, putting my chin in my palm and my elbow on the counter. He was only a few feet away from me and yet he was totally lost in the chicken he was attempting to not burn.

Seeing Harry in my kitchen, I would think, would’ve been strange. But it wasn’t in any sense of the matter, and the fact that it felt right to see him standing their in my home, like he belonged, scared me a bit. But I pushed my fears aside when he turned around, startled to see me.

“Well if is isn’t the little bird,” he laughed, flashing me a smile before turning around and season whatever he was making. I leaned to the side, attempting to see his concoction, but he moved, blocking my view entirely. “Fell right to sleep you did,” he continued as the song switched to Maroon 5. “Quite adorable, actually. Now you owe me twice for bringing you here and cooking for you out of the kindness of my heart.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “How about we call it even because I’m letting you use my kitchen?”

“You’re not getting out of it that quickly, love.”

I watched him with interest as he put the finishing touches on the food. I couldn’t help but smile at him, seeing how pleased he was with himself as he slid a plate filled with chicken Parmesan. I inhaled deeply and smiled. It smelled absolutely ravishing but I waited politely as he walked to my fridge, calling over his shoulder, “What do you want to drink?”

“Beer.” He came back with two beers in hand, sliding one over to me as he sat on the barstool next to me, sending me his dazzling, dimpled smile. I diverted my eyes, dying at that smile for the millionth time already.

I took a bite of the food and rolled my eyes back, savoring the perfect taste. I hadn’t really noticed how hungry I was until that moment. After a few moments of comfortable silence, a couple of bites and a swig of beer I turned to him. “Where did you learn to cook? This is delicious.”

He grinned at me through a mouthful of food, the cutest thing I had ever seen. “Mum is a good cook, taught me a few things before I left home.”

“You and your mom close?”

He nodded. “She’s kind of my sun and stars. I wouldn’t be anywhere without her. And how about your mom?”

I smiled. “My mom is the best thing in this entire world,” I admitted easily. Something about him made me want to open up. “She’s been everything to me in my life. She’s my mom, my best friend, my manager and my dad. It was hard for a long time after my dad died. They were the kind of couple that wasn’t able to exist without one another, and when he passed… I don’t think she wanted to live for a while, but she had a piece of him in me. She had to keep me going because he would have wanted her to provide for me. And she did.”

He seemed to mull this over after a sip of his beer and a couple bites of food. “Do you miss your dad?”

I nodded, biting my lip. “He just… he was the light of life that was incredible. He taught me to the play the piano, and he always used to tell me I would surpass his skills on it. I just didn’t ever think I’d surpass him because he would die… I owe everything I am as a musician to him.”

I stopped talking for a long time after I realized I was on the verge of tears. Just simple words about my father brought the tears to my eyes. I grabbed my beer and chugged the rest of it, getting up abruptly and grabbing another from the fridge, taking a sip and closing my eyes, fighting the urge to cry.

A pair of warm arms went around me, startling me. Harry's grip was warm as he rested his cheek against the back of my head and I leaned into him, the embrace comforting. We stood there like that for a few minutes before I realized how intimate the embrace was, causing me to break away quickly and say, “Thank you for being such a good friend, Hazza.” My voice sounded stronger than I expected and my head was swimming as I walked away from him. “How have I not met friends like you before?”

He chucked as he followed her back over to their dinner, returning to their dining. “Because you’re stubborn, mean and you have terrible hair.”

I narrowed my eyes at the boy next to me. “We can’t all have perfect hair like you.”

“You’re right, love, we can’t.”

*

Third Person

Harry watched with interest as Bentley hoped off of the barstool, carrying the plates to the sink and turning on the faucet, the sound of water drowning out the sound of Taylor Swift’s voice. Harry was absolutely intrigued at the girl in front of him, not sure how to read her or understand her.

Bentley Slade was a puzzle, whereas most girls were an open book. At times, she flirted right back at Harry, who was the biggest flirt in the entire world. He adored her playful banter and the way she was able to come back with witty remarks; she held her own against a group of five boys. She was also very dedicated to getting things down perfectly for the concert, all business and ready to do whatever she needed to do.

And then there was the Bentley who shut off suddenly, going off into a place of solitary confinement at the most random of times. Moments before, her face had been flood with emotion of the past, so much that she had to down the rest of her beer in attempt to distract herself. Harry had never before wanted to take someone in his arms and console them. The innocence in her face, the raw loneliness startled him and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her to protect her.

For long moments they had stood there in that embrace, Harry completely drowning in her presence. He had no idea what was going on, and was about to pull away from the touch himself before she jerked away from him suddenly, leaving him standing there to collect his thoughts about the warmth that had just radiated through his body.

For the second time in their friendship, it had seemed as if Bentley had become suddenly iced over, a stranger who wanted to be left alone and away from human contact. All he could do was watch her as she collected herself and then changed the subject, the ice leaving when she was a few feet away from him. He had no idea why she did that, why she slammed the door on him the moment their friendship seemed to grow.

Harry new one thing for sure, if he knew nothing else: he never wanted any harm to come to Bentley. Ever. Something about her rough exterior and quick mind, ironically enough, was vulnerable, and he couldn’t help but think she knew that too.

Bentley’s long brown hair fell in waves below her shoulders, a mess but somehow perfect. She was in a simple hoodie and sweat pants, by no means looking novel, but he felt as if she could never look better. It was a known fact that Bentley Slade was drop dead gorgeous, but there was something about her beauty that made her different. She was imperfect, and Harry was almost positive that’s what made her so beautiful.

“Are we even if I do the dishes?” she asked him, rolling up her sleeves as to not wet them. He laughed, laying his arms on the counter top and studying the girl in front of him, trying to decided what exactly he thought of her.

“Doing the dishes is nothing,” he supplied. “I helped you fix a bloody song and brought your knackered ass back here. Do you know how heavy you are with dead weight?”

Her shoulders shook with laugher. “I hope that’s not a fat joke.”

He recoiled. He would never insinuate such a thing, especially to her. He knew how damaging such a joke could be to a girl. It could ruin a life. “Not at all,” he sputtered, trying to recover quickly. Sensing his anxiety she turned around with a sideways smile, laughing, “Jeez Hazza, calm down, yeah? I was joking.”

Harry felt himself blush, something that he never did. “Get back to your kitchen work!”

“Oh shove off!” she yelled, throwing bubbles at him, getting it on his face. Harry looked at her in shock before an evil grin crossed his face. The urge to touch her was welling up inside him, and he made the excuse to when he jumped up from his chair, shouting, “Oh you want to play games?”

Harry grabbed a handful of foam from the sink, throwing it at her as she yelled, trying to block the sloshing liquid as it hit her in the face. She grabbed for the sink hose then but Harry was quicker, grabbing it from her hands and taking her by the waist, throwing the small, squealing girl over his shoulder as he carried her to the living room.

Bentley beat his legs with her fists and she kicked her legs around, but while she tried to escape his hold, she also didn’t want him to drop her on her face. Not only would it hurt, but also it would have been incredibly embarrassing.

“Let me go!” she squealed, just as he threw her on the couch and jumped on top of her, tickling her sides. She threw her head back and laughed, trying to breathe as he corrupted her sides. “Hazza! Stop!”

Harry smiled, swatting away her hands. This was how it was supposed to be for him- easily flirting and bending girls to his will. Harry had always been good at flirting and knew that he was charming. The fact that Bentley wasn’t shutting him out at the moment, confirmed the fact that his charm did in fact work on her, that she wasn’t a brick wall.

But the question was if he even wanted to charm this giggling girl in front of him. She was just a friend.

At least that’s what he told himself.