*Two week later*

Georgia knocked on the wooden door, and awaited a response. When none came, she knocked again, and then twice more before a reply finally did come her way.

“Yeah, coming!”

Melissa opened the door. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I was in the bathroom.”

Georgia smiled and nodded, assuring her it was fine. The two girls walked inside, as Mel shut the door behind her.

“I thought you were supposed to go to Louis’ tonight,” Georgia said, taking a seat on the bed.

“We were supposed to go to Louis’,” Mel corrected, plopping down beside Georgia and then shifting so she was lying down with her head in her cousin’s lap. “I don’t want to.”

Georgia sighed, running her fingers through Mel’s dark hair. “Melissa, you haven’t stepped out of the house in two weeks,” she pointed out. “How long are you going to stay here hiding like this?”

“I’m not hiding,” Melissa countered. “I’m just…Harry’s going to be there, okay? I don’t want to…to face him. Not yet.”

“Why not?” Georgia asked. “Melissa, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Melissa was quiet for about a minute, and then she spoke, “I can’t believe we’re over, you know?” her voice was soft. “It’s just…after everything—I just—I just wanted to sort things out, and he suddenly—”

Georgia sighed. “Mel,” she said gently. “Are you just going to stop living your life because of Harry?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t,” Georgia said simply.

“It’s not that easy, you know?” Melissa pointed out, sitting up. “I don’t even know what to do if I just…run into him. I don’t know if he’s moved on and—what if he has? Already? How will I ever face that?”

Georgia looked at Melissa, wishing she knew how to help Melissa through this. After all, she’d never gone through a break up before. Lucas had been her only boyfriend, ever, and what had happened to them wasn’t exactly what anyone could call a break up. They were together one day and the next day they just…weren’t.

“Mel,” Georgia tried again, “look, Harry cares about you. We both know that. He called you multiple times that day when you broke up—”

“To ease his guilt—”

“No,” Georgia cut across her. “Because he doesn’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that,” Melissa scoffed. “He’s been hurting me every day for about a year now.”

“Then maybe it’s a good thing you guys are over,” Georgia suggested gently. “Maybe it was just time you stopped hurting.”

“I haven’t,” Melissa said softly. “Stopped hurting, I mean.”

Then Georgia reached for Melissa and wrapped her arms around her, hugging her close. Melissa wasn’t crying—no, Georgia didn’t think she did that very much. Her cousin was a lot stronger than she’d ever be.

You’re nothing like Mel.

“Look, I think you should go,” she said, pulling away. “Go, meet your friends, and try to have fun. You’re going to have to do it sometime, Melissa.”

“Does it have to be now?”

“How long do you want to spend shut up in your room like this?” Georgia asked her. “How long do you want to have to run away from Harry, especially when you don’t need to?”

Melissa sighed, and remained quiet for a good while, contemplating, Georgia was sure. Finally, she said, “You know what? You’re right. I’ll go.” Melissa nodded to herself. “Why should I let him get to me like this? I’m going to show him I’m fine without him. I don’t need him, not at all.”

Georgia wasn’t sure if this was what she had tried to explain to Melissa, but she was glad nonetheless. She didn’t like seeing her cousin so quiet, so unlike herself all the time. Melissa didn’t deserve to be this unhappy—no one did.

“I’m going to go,” Melissa declared. “But only if you come with me.”
---

Georgia had protested with all her might, repeatedly telling Melissa that she had no interest in going to yet another party. It was all she had done ever since she’d come here. She wondered how Melissa and her friends would survive when uni began, and especially when their exams would begin.

Melissa was firm, and she’d insisted that Georgia tag along with her—she was invited, after all. But when Georgia refused to budge, Melissa resorted to emotional blackmail; something she
knew would definitely work on Georgia. It had worked, that was for sure. It worked like a charm.

So here she was, Georgia, at Louis’ house, sitting on the couch. This time she wasn’t all by herself, having managed a few decent conversations with a bunch of people, an achievement she was sort of proud of. She recalled Harry telling her he thought she was uptight, refusing to mingle with anyone, and she felt a sense of smugness, clearly having proven Harry wrong. If only he was here to see….

But then again, how did it matter, whether she’d proven Harry wrong or not? Why should she even feel the need to do so? She didn’t get up every morning with the sole aim of pleasing Harry Styles, did she?

Tired of sitting in one place, she got up, deciding to step out for some fresh air (the house smelled like sweat, alcohol and smoke, and Georgia didn’t think she’d be able to put up with it for too long). She got off her seat, smoothened her dress, and then walked around for a bit, sighing as her legs got the stretch that they needed. She walked past couples making out, people sitting in groups and drinking and talking, a few swaying their hips to the music.

“Are you bored already?”

She whirled around quickly, half in absolute shock of having been called out this way, and was met with a smirking Harry. Her heart gave an involuntary start the moment she saw him. He was dressed simply, wearing a grey t-shirt with his sleeves folded so she could see the swell of his muscles, and his black jeans. His hair was pushed off his forehead, and the chains around his neck seemed to shine as the rested on the thin material of his shirt. He was smirking down at her, and eyebrow cocked.

“When did you get here?” she asked him curiously, taking a step back to increase the distance between them. He was standing close to her, too close to her. But even after stepping away, she could smell his cologne, the spicy scent invading her nostrils.

“Just now,” he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “Why? You weren’t missing me, where
you?”

“No,” she snapped at him, narrowing her eyes.

“Why are you leaving so soon?” he asked her.

“I’m not leaving, I just—” she was cut off, when a loud cheer sounded from behind them. Georgia turned while Harry looked over her head to see what the noise was about.

Melissa was lying on the dining table, which had been cleared for a game of ‘body shots’, or something along those lines. Currently there was a boy furiously sucking on Melissa’s neck while her eye lids fluttered, mouth parting, clearly enjoying the attention being given to her neck. When the boy pulled away, Melissa was quick to yank him by his collar and kiss him,

Admittedly, Georgia knew that something like this would happen. She knew that Melissa would find a way to bounce back from everything that had happened, and she knew that there was no guarantee that it would be the right way. However, there was nothing wrong with what she was doing; she was no longer with Harry, after all. But when she turned, Harry’s jaw was clenched, muscles in his jaw flexing, all trace of humour gone. Without a word, he turned around, and left.

Georgia stood there for a few moments, wondering what she was supposed to do from here. Surely, what she should do is roll her eyes and walk away and get herself a glass of coke.

But her feet seemed to have other ideas, as they led her outside, in the direction in which Harry had just left for. She opened the door, immediately greeted by the cold air outside, and she shivered.

Harry was just across the road, sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette in his hand. She could make out his tense posture from across the road. Unsure of as to why exactly she was even doing it, she hurriedly crossed the road, her shoes colliding with soft thudding sounds with every step, and she made her way to Harry.

His hand were continuously raking through his hair, the other holding a lit cigarette, bringing the blunt to his lips to suck the toxic stick, and then puffing out smoke from between his pouty lips. He turned to see Georgia hesitantly making her way to him, and the ever present frown on his face deepened.

“What do you want?” he asked her, his voice hoarse.

“Are you…are you okay?” she asked hesitantly.

Harry looked up at her then, properly, his gaze fixed on her. He scoffed. “I’m peachy,” he let her know, every syllable dripping with sarcasm.

“I…I’m not here to take advantage of the situation…” she said pathetically, referring to their earlier encounter, when a drunken Harry had kissed Georgia after a fight with Melissa. She wondered if he’d do that again, and that made her take an involuntary step away from him—just a tiny one.

To her surprise, Harry laughed, his frown momentarily disappearing. “I’m not going to kiss you, Georgia,” he said, with a roll of his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “I promise.”

Georgia smiled back shyly, silently glad.

Harry straightened up, and then slid down the hood of the car, standing before her. Once again she was taken aback by just how tall he was. She looked up at him from underneath her lashes and he smirked down at her. He leaned in close, impossibly so, their noses brushing, and for just a moment, Georgia couldn’t move.

“Unless, of course,” he whispered, his breath washing over her, “you want me to.”

Georgia hurriedly stepped away from him, almost tripping over her own feet. Harry caught her arm and steadied her, laughing loudly.

“Motherfu—” Georgia snapped at him, wrenching her arm away from his grasp.

“Uh-uh,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “No cursing, missy.”

“I can’t I actually came out here after you,” Georgia said, throwing her arms up.

“Neither can I, actually,” he said. “How thoughtful of you, Georgia. I’m touched.”

He tossed the cigarette onto the ground and crushed it with the heel of his foot. Georgia looked
down at his feet crushing the butt, and then chuckled. “Can’t you buy yourself a pair of new shoes?”

Harry looked back up at her, frowning. It wasn’t an angry frown, though, just a confused one.
“What?” he asked her. “What’s wrong with my shoes?”

“Harry,” Georgia chuckled, placing two hands on the hood of the car and leaning against it. “These are…well, they’re sort of torn and…worn out…” She struggled to tell him just how
terrible the brown boots looked in the best way possible.

“They’re absolutely fine,” Harry huffed, crossing his arms, his frown deepening, his bottom lip jutting slightly.

“Harry, they look like they’re going to fall off your feet,” she laughed, eyeing the worn out shoes.

“I said they’re fine,” he snapped at her. “I really like them, okay?”

Georgia laughed loudly, shaking her head at him. Harry stared at her, and she saw his struggle to remain angry, as he fought a small smile playing on his lips.

“You’re horrible,” he told her, looking down and letting out a low chuckle. “Insulting a man’s shoes—that cuts deep.”

“I’ll gift you a new pair,” she teased.

“I’ll throw them away,” he told her, holding one foot up slightly above the ground and examining his shoe. “These babies are irreplaceable.”

“You’re so weird,” Georgia commented, throwing her head back and laughed.

Harry grinned, and looked at her. “You don’t laugh very often, do you?” he asked her, watching the way her lips, tainted pink, stretched over her perfect teeth as she laughed, soft giggles escaping her small mouth. Her blue eyes were alight with humour as she laughed at Harry’s expense.

Her laughter died out slowly, her smile fading. She looked over at him. “You don’t either,” she pointed out.

Harry hummed in response, and shrugged, not bothering with a response. It was a simple
observation, as was hers, and there was no point denying it, because both were quite right.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asked her after a moment of silence.

“The last time you asked me that,” Georgia said, “you made me walk for hours and yelled at me for being slow. Repeatedly.”

“Okay, first of all,” Harry said, raising a finger and his eyebrows, “I didn’t make you walk for hours, sissy. Second, I wasn’t yelling at you. I was just…you know.”

Georgia rolled her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she let him know.

“Oh come on, you’re gonna go back to that?” he asked, gesturing at Louis’ house behind them. “It’s boring in there.”

“If these parties are so boring,” Georgia said, “then why do you even bother showing up?”

“Free alcohol,” Harry said, in a tone that didn’t make it clear as to whether or not he was joking. “Now, are you coming with me, or not?”

“Harry,” Georgia sighed.

“Oh come on, you know you’re just going to sit in one place without talking to anyone for the rest of the night,” Harry pointed out.

“You’re so rude,” Georgia accused.

Harry only smirked, walking around her and his car, and opening the door of the passenger seat, and looking up pointedly at Georgia. “You coming or what?”

Georgia eyes him, her insides screaming at her to turn around and walk back to Louis’ house, where Melissa was. Melissa—a broken hearted Melissa whose boyfriend had broken up with her. Her boyfriend being Harry Styles, who was currently offering Georgia a ride to—well, somewhere. She didn’t know where. This was all too complicated suddenly.

Georgia sighed, and walked past him, getting into the car. “If you make me walk too much again and I get tired, you’re carrying me.”

Harry gave a tinkling laugh, and then shut the car door.

Notes

right, here's part two! don't forget to rate comment and subscribe. you're all fucking amazing! here, have some harry styles!