Chapter 1
*Three Years Later*
It was New Year’s Eve. My family and I were at the annual celebration in town hall where people were full of holiday spirit. My parents were sitting talking to all of their friends; my classmates were on the dance floor, grinding on each other when they thought their parents weren’t looking. Everyone looked so happy. Everyone except for me. I stood alone, in a darkened corner of the room, watching the goings on like an outsider. I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to leave. This place was haunted by so many good memories that caused me pain, and I didn’t want to hurt anymore. Without giving my feet permission, I was out the door, standing outside in the dark watching snowflakes fall. To say that I was depressed was embarrassing, but if I was being honest it was the truth. I felt so alone, I didn’t talk to my friends anymore. We’d just graduated, and we’d all gone off to different schools. I hadn’t even wanted to come back for Christmas, but my parents had insisted. While I was being honest with myself, I might as well admit that the reason why I was depressed was because of Harry. I missed him horribly. His time on the X Factor had driven us apart, and we hadn’t spoken in three years. My best friend and the love of my life, all gone in a heartbeat. Everywhere I went I was reminded of this. He was the object of every woman’s desires. There were always stories of him with women, so many women. Rumours that he’d slept with four hundred and ten women, rumours saying that he’d broken up three marriages; it was too much to bear at some times. After X Factor, Anne had moved, so there was no reason for Harry to come back here, so he never did. I don’t even know how our break up happened, but somehow it did. One day we were on the phone, and we just said that it wasn’t working and that was it. Sometimes I wondered if I ran into him, would he even recognize me. My youthful glow was gone, and at nineteen, too. My dirty blonde hair was long, the ends ratty. My blue eyes that had once been bright were now dull and forlorn; full of grief and sorrow. Unable to move on, I marked my misery into my skin, under my left breast, over my heart; “I won’t let go”. Four little words that summed up my life, a pathetic synopsis. My friend had gotten into tattoos, and at sixteen, heavy with a broken heart; they’d been the perfect words.

A gust of cold wind blew, causing me to shiver. Even after all this time, I longed for those arms to pull me in and shelter me from the frigid air. I felt pathetic. “Three, two, one... Happy new year!” Music and banging and screaming came from inside. I’m glad I wasn’t in there, being subjected to watching all those happy New Year kisses. What a way to start 2013; cold, depressed and alone. The happy banter exuding from the small building was getting to me, mocking my isolation. I stood up, not bothering to go back inside for my coat, and started walking home in my sleeveless black dress. Walking in the snow was made all the more difficult by my heels and so it took real concentration for me to walk. Eventually, the cold made me clumsy, and I quickly lost my balance. I stayed down, lying in the snow in the middle of the street. Some tears escaped, but they froze before they could travel too far down my cheek. My arms looked like they were turning blue, but I didn’t care. I lost track of time, minutes passing with little meaning as things got cloudy. I felt arms around me, lifting me from the snow. I imagined that they were Harry’s arms; I pretended that he wanted me. I felt like I was flying, my body was weightless, floating above the ground. Then it went from cold to warm, dark to bright, and I didn’t understand, so everything faded into darkness.

I woke up in my bed, dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt I didn’t recognize. Someone must have changed my clothes for me. I sat up, and my head hurt. I didn’t know how I got here, but I remember imagining that Harry was here. I must have been experiencing hypothermia. I got up, looking for my parents. I walked downstairs and saw someone sitting on the couch. I stopped as I got to the bottom of the stairs. Harry Styles sat on my couch, flipping through old photo albums of us, back when we were in love. I wanted to run from the room, but he looked up and saw me.

“Sarah,” he breathed. He walked over to where I stood, frozen on the last stair. “Are you alright, love?” He put his arm around my waist, ushering me to the couch. He was different. His facial features older, more chiseled, jaw line more prominent and littered with stubble. He was taller, more muscular, and the arms around me were that of a man’s, and not the boy’s that I was used to. “I really wish you’d stay in bed, I’m--”Harry started talking, but I cut him off.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him bluntly and stared him in the eye.

“I wanted to be home for New Year’s,” He explained, seemingly confused by my harshness. I laughed sarcastically.

“Only this isn’t home for you anymore, is it Harry?” I realized how bitter I sounded, but I couldn’t keep up the facade, couldn’t pretend that I was alright. I lowered my face into my hands. I felt Harry’s hand grab my wrist, so I looked up and he pulled it up to his face to examine the tattoo on it. The letters were extremely small, probably close to nine point font, but he made them out.

“’Always be my baby’. Is this...” He didn’t finish his question. I just nodded, memories flooding back. We’d never named our baby, but I’d gotten this tattoo because I’d wanted to feel pain for the baby that I’d been scared to have. Wanted to punish myself, so that I wouldn’t have to feel so guilty. I wiped I tear from my eye before it could fall, but Harry saw. He wordlessly placed his hand in mine, palm side up so that I could read the two tiny Hebrew words on his wrist; ‘שלנו תינוק’. I looked at him questioningly. “It means ‘Our Baby’” He whispered softly. I let the tears fall then, silent tears of long ago sorrows. The pain of having him here was overwhelming. I wanted to stay in his arms, for him to tell me how much he loved me and that he couldn’t stand us being apart, but this wasn’t the boy that belonged to me; this boy shared my memories, but that was all. There was no future with this boy, and that hurt.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” I whispered to Harry, and I could tell that these words stung him.

He looked sad, but said,”I’ll leave then.” He got up, and started towards the front door. “Keep the shirt,” he said without looking at me, he was trying to hide his eyes, but in the light I saw a tear glistening on his cheek. He walked out the door, but turned around suddenly and we were face to face and it felt like his emerald eyes were staring into my soul, seeing how damaged it was and wanting to fix it. “I just want you to know,” he said solemnly. “That I won’t let go either.” He must have been the one who changed my clothes, and had obviously seen my tattoo in the process. He was so close. It was like all of those times I’d spent wishing he was in front of me, but better, because it was really him. I was so overwhelmed; I needed to feel his arms around me. I threw my arms about his neck, but he was taller than he had been before, so he lifted me up, holding me there with my feet above the ground. I cuddled into the crook of his neck and breathed in the familiar smell there. His hands spread as far as they could around me, holding me impossibly tight, yet not tight enough. But then I thought of the three years that had passed without a trace of him, and I couldn’t bear to go through that again.

Though it pained me to do so, I put my lips to his ear and calmly whispered, “You already let me go.” I pulled back so that I could look at his face. He was shaking his head, holding back tears that he didn’t want me to see. I placed my hand on his cheek because his pain cut me, more than I’d expected it to. He placed his hand over mine, holding it there. His hand eclipsed mine completely.

He smiled slightly, that beautiful crooked smile, and kissed me on the cheek. “That’s not true,” he whispered. “Because nothing’s changed between us. You’re still my best friend, you always have been.” His thumb rubbed small circles over mine. His words echoed in my mind. “Nothing’s changed” but that wasn’t true was it? Things had changed. We’d both changed. I wasn’t as carefree as I had been before, I’d grown up. Harry had travelled the world, become an icon, a heartthrob to every teenage girl. We weren’t the same, no matter how much we wanted to be.

“So,” I started, a lump growing in my throat, aware of what I was about to do and hating myself for it. “You want us to pretend that the last three years haven’t happened. That we’re still sixteen, that I’d never gotten pregnant, that you’d never left me for your dreams, and that you’re not a world-known celebrity that doesn’t and will never have the time for me!” I finished, breathless and angry. I laughed a bitter, hard and sarcastic laugh, and Harry’s face contorted into a confused frown, clearly baffled by this version of myself that he’d never seen. “Tell me,” I said, backing away from him. “Tell me why, after so long, you’ve come back to declare your relentless love for me.” My voice broke on the last word, my sadness returning as my anger faded. Harry considered his words, and closed the space between us as he started to speak.

“I came back,” he began. “Because, right now, I have everything that I thought I wanted. I’m doing what I thought would make me perfectly happy, but as much as I love it,” he stopped, seemingly lost for words. He ran his hands through his hair and then down the back of his neck before looking back at me longingly. “But as much as I love it, I’ll always love you more. And I’m sorry that it’s taken so long, but that’s the truth.” He looked at me with pure earnestness. “I know that things have changed, that we’ve changed,” he continued. “And I don’t want to forget about all of the things that have changed us, but one thing that hasn’t changed is the way I feel about you.”I hadn’t noticed the tears that were slipping down my cheeks. “Awe babe,” he cooed as he folded me into his arms and rested his chin on my head. We stood like that for a while, and it was the first time in a long time that I’d felt whole. Our embrace was interrupted by the sounds of people walking down the street. Clearly the party was over, and I realized that my parents would be home soon. Harry must have realized this too, because he looked to me questioningly, trying to decipher whether I wanted him to stay or not.

“Harry,” I breathed. “I’m not ready for you to leave yet.” I looked up at him and he smiled, obviously overjoyed at my words. I smiled too, and he intertwined our fingers as we walked into my house.

We sat on my bed, and it felt like old times. For a while we didn’t say anything, neither of us knowing what exactly to say. Harry talked a little about his band, I talked about university, but before long we were talking and laughing like we used to. We lightened the mood by showing each other our tattoos. Of course Harry had more than me, and he’d already seen mine, but it was interesting.

“Why did you ever get these?” I asked him, running my hands over the birds on his chest. He looked down at my hand touching his skin and smiled my favourite crooked smile.

“I don’t really know,” he laughed. “I liked the idea of love birds, I suppose.” I left my hand on his chest, reveling in the texture of his skin. He’d shown and described the meanings behind all of his tattoos, most I’d seen in the media before, but it gave us something to talk about. But then he surprised me. “There’s one more,” he said, a playful, yet nostalgic, look came into his eyes.

“Oh?” I asked. “Where?” I continued. I looked him over and couldn’t see any that we’d missed. I’d thought I’d heard about all of his tattoos, unless he’d managed to keep this one to himself, making it personal and sweet. He continued to smile.

“Look at your favourite place.” He told me. It seemed like both a thousand years ago and just yesterday that I’d had a favourite part of Harry, but I immediately went behind him and lifted his hair to expose the back of his neck. At his hairline were four words that made my heart melt: “Your hands belong here”. He turned around, so that he could see my face. He took my hand in his, and just held on to it. “I told you nothing’s changed.” He whispered. I was shocked, but also touched.

“When,” I fumbled for words. “When did you get this?” I finally asked. He didn’t answer me right away, so I looked him in the eyes, as if in them I could read his answer.

“Two years ago.” He replied. In my mind, this gave validity to what he’d been telling me. He really hadn’t forgotten about me, and it was possible that he still loved me as I loved him. I crawled into his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist and interlocking my fingers around his neck. I leaned my face down so that our foreheads rested on each other. He sighed contentedly, “Your hands really do belong there, I’ve missed them desperately.” I took a deep breath. This night had changed the course of my life forever, and I carefully weighed the words before I said them. I opened my eyes and saw those perfect emeralds set in Harry’s face and I could feel his love for me exuding from them, drawing the words out of my mouth.

“I love you.” I said simply.

Harry smiled crookedly and just before our lips met for the first time in three years he breathed, “As I love you.”

Nothing happened that night; we simply just fell asleep in each other’s arms. I woke up around nine the next morning, confused and emotionally drained. I was sprawled across Harry’s chest, and when I looked up I caught him staring at me.

He smiled slowly, “Hi.” I rolled over groggily.

“Hi.” I said. He laughed and kissed my forehead, letting his lips linger. A loud bang came from the kitchen, causing us both to jump. My mother must’ve been making breakfast. And that’s when the realization that Harry was actually in my bed finally hit me. “Shit,” I groaned. “My parents! I’m going to have to sneak you out.” I looked up at Harry. He looked confused.

“Why would you do that?” he asked me. I got up off of the bed, piling my hair into a messy bun.

“I don’t think my parents would like the idea of me having a boy spend the night in their house.” I said quickly.

“A boy?” Harry got up too. “Sarah, I’m not just some boy, your parents know me, and you know me.” I spun around to face him.

“I don’t want my parents to know you’re here because inevitably, you’re going to leave, and that’s going to be bad enough without them wanting to talk about it.” His face softened as I said this, and he wrapped me in his arms.

“I didn’t come here to torment you,” he said, speaking softly in my ear. “I came here to get you back.” I pulled away. I could feel my eyebrow arching.

“Get me back? Are you planning on staying? What about your band?” I asked him bluntly. My heart couldn’t take anymore false hopes, I needed answers.

“I’m not leaving the band,” he said gently. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together. We can make this work.” He smiled. I laughed humourlessly. I wiggled out from under his arms and stepped back.

“Harry,” I said. “We’ve tried this before. We drifted apart, and I can’t handle that again. I don’t think you understand how hard it is, to watch someone that you love, love more than you ever thought were capable of, move on and forget about you.” He stared at me with those green eyes, and it was in that moment that I saw how young he actually was, only nineteen, yet life was so complicated.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. I walked over to him, leaning into him, needing his body against mine.

“Harry, I want you, not your apologies.” I looked up at him, and he stroked my hair.

“Listen,” he began. “You’re going to school in London, and I have a house there. So I was wondering if, maybe, you’d want to move in, so that we can give this another try.” He met my eyes as he finished. I was stunned. I hadn’t thought that he was serious, but seeing how much thought he’d put into this gave me hope. This hope scared me though, because hope has the power to ruin people. But in that moment, it didn’t matter.

“Harry,” I whispered. “I think that’s an excellent idea.” He smiled brightly and kissed me warmly.
We headed for the stairs, but I had to stop to take a deep breath before walking. I had no idea what my parents’ reaction was going to be like, but for some reason I felt pathetic and inexplicably nervous. Harry slid his hand down my arm and grasped my trembling fingers, then wrapped his other arm about my waist and kissed my hair, giving me the strength I needed to move my feet. We reached the bottom of the stairs and proceeded into the kitchen, where my mother stood facing the stove with her back to us and my father had his face buried in the news paper at the table.

“Morning mum, morning dad.” I said as we entered.

My dad didn’t look up from his paper, but my mum spun around, “Goood morning--” she stopped short, looking justifiably confused at Harry. Harry smiled at her, only slightly awkwardly.

“Morning Mrs. Wilson.” My dad threw the paper down on the table at the sound of his voice and my mum only smiled back.

“Harry!” my dad gaped. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you around. What are you doing here?” My father asked bluntly.

My mum quickly came over and gave Harry a side hug with one arm, and began prattling, “It’s good to see you! How’s your mother?” Harry realized that she didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable at my dad’s blunt question.

“Thank you,” he said sweetly. “My mum’s great, she’s been doing a lot of charity work lately, she really enjoys it.” He then turned towards my dad, who still looked bewildered. “I got some time off, and so I thought I’d come back for a visit, but then I was so tired that it seems that I just crashed here. I’m sorry about the intrusion.” My dad looked unconvinced, but genuinely deep down was happy to see him.

“Well,” my mother smiled, turning back to the stove where she was making pancakes. “Why don’t both of you sit down for some breakfast? I guess you’ll want to go around and visit all of your old friends, won’t you Harry? It’s too bad that Sarah is leaving today, isn’t it sweetie?” I sat down at the table, dragging Harry into the seat next to me. Harry kept our hands entwined on top of the table between us, something which my dad did not fail to notice.

“Yes, I would,” Harry answered my mum. “But I’m actually returning to London today, thought I’d catch a ride with Sarah.” He gave my hand a slight squeeze and winked at me so that my dad wouldn’t see.

“Well,” my mum said, looking surprised again. “It’ll be nice for you two to catch up.”

My parents both looked away awkwardly at this comment, but Harry simply replied, undeterred, “Yes, it really will.”

My parents excused themselves a little while later, and they went off to work, kissing me goodbye and telling me to call them when I got back to my flat. My mum gave Harry a sincere hug, and my dad surprised me by hugging him too. It was then that I realized that I hadn’t been the only one to miss Harry. All the time he’d spent here when we were kids had clearly endeared him to my parents as well. I packed up some things, loaded them in my car and then we were ready to go. Harry started walking around to the driver’s side.

“Um, sorry what do you think you’re doing there?” I pulled on the back of his jacket and he turned towards me.

“I’m, getting in the car?” he said, looking confused. I laughed lightly.

“Yes, but you’re getting in on the wrong side, darling.” He laughed loudly and leaned against the car.

“You want to drive?” He continued to laugh. I folded my arms across my chest and arched an eyebrow.

“Last time I checked, it was my car.” He pulled me into him, his face just inches from mine.

“I’ll let you drive if you kiss me.” He said cheekily. I laughed loudly.

“You won’t let me do anything, now move it.” He started walking to the other side, but I pulled him around and stretched on my tippy toes to kiss him. He opened his eyes, and cocked his head to the side questioningly.

“That was cause I wanted to.” He smiled and kissed me softly again before getting into the passenger seat.

We buckled in and Harry said sarcastically, “Well, I better prepare to die.” I glared at him.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe. Besides, can you even drive a stick?”

I winked at him and he rolled his eyes and said, “Of course I can, you sexy little smart ass!” We both started laughing as I put the car in gear and starting driving away from our hometown.

Notes

Hello everyone! This is my first story that I've posted, so let me know what you think. I've been working on a second chapter, so if you guys like it I'll post it :)