Georgia heard the loud noises downstairs that indicated that Melissa’s friends had arrived, and she cringed. The last thing she wanted to do was spend her time mingling with a bunch of wild, drunken teenagers. She would much rather spend her time locked up in her room, perhaps reading. She’d rather do anything, if she were honest, than go down and spend time with Melissa’s friends.

Tentatively, she made her way downstairs and into the living room. The living room was occupied by around ten people or so. In the last few weeks, Georgia had been to so many parties that now this crowd seemed to small and too odd. Nonetheless, she was grateful that this wouldn’t be one of those alcohol fuelled parties she was (to her horror) getting used to.

About an hour later, she found out how wrong her assumption had been. Alcohol fuelled was exactly what the party was. Not to mention the green bag that a few people seemed to carry with them at all times. After Melissa had tugged Georgia roughly by her arm and pulled her in for introductions and forced her to make conversations with people she didn’t really want to make conversations with, she’d disappeared into the kitchen along with a friend and brought back tons of vodka bottles and beers and the like. Georgia had immediately retreated towards the back of the room.

Out of all the people present, Harry had been the first one Georgia had spotted. She had to admit he looked quite good, even when he was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans. His curls were the usual mess, as he constantly ran his fingers through them. His ever present frown sat on his brows as he looked around at everyone, not really making conversation with anyone. Nonetheless, people still flocked to him, boys and girls alike, hoping to engage him in conversations or grab his attention. They wanted him to talk to them, to acknowledge their presence, all of which Harry didn’t seem to want to do.

When he spotted Georgia at the back of the room, fiddling with the corner of the tablecloth draped over the dining table, he got off the couch and made his way to her. Melissa was busy talking to two boys on the couch right beside him. He’d barely made any conversation with Melissa since he’d stepped into the house. They argued again, as was the norm for them, the previous evening. He didn’t even remember what they’d been quarrelling over. It was probably something insignificant, but the distance between the two stretched on like an endless ocean. Harry wished he could fix it, but he realized that he didn’t want to, especially after seeing the way Melissa made a show of her conversation with the boys, making it a point to let Harry know that if he wasn’t ready to give her the attention she needed, other guys were more than willing. It infuriated Harry to see her petty attempts to make him jealous, and it horrified him that they actually worked, even if just a little.

Georgia looked up in surprise when the chair next to her scraped across the floor and Harry settled down next to her.

“Hey,” he greeted her lazily.

“Hi,” she mumbled, suddenly nervous and shy. Despite her general annoyance whenever he was near, Georgia found it impossibly hard to look right at him. He was so incredibly good looking that it made her stutter and blush like a jittery twelve year old school girl.

“Why are you always by yourself?” Harry asked her, circling his forefinger across the rim of his glass as he eyed her curiously.

“What?” she asked him, frowning.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make an effort to mingle or talk to anyone,” Harry pointed out. “You’re always sitting alone in one corner.”

“I don’t…”

“You’re so uptight,” Harry observed with narrow eyes as he curiously eyed Georgia.

Georgia glared at him now, affronted. “I am not.” She snapped.

Harry wasn’t fazed by her anger. “You are,” he nodded seriously. “You need to loosen up.”

“You need to stop telling me what to do,” Georgia shot at him.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Snapping at me won’t change the truth,” he said. “What are you so shy for anyway?”

“I am not shy,” Georgia mumbled, though she knew that this part was anything but a lie. Especially around Harry, she found herself more reserved. It was as if he were judging her, judging everything she did. The way he smirked at her when she tried to stand up for herself against him, laughing at her. The way he called her tiny and now uptight; the nerve of this boy.
Harry opened his mouth to reply with a sarcastic retort, but when a high pitched squeal pierced the air, he turned slightly to see Melissa being hoisted in the air by Riley, one of Harry and Melissa’s friends at Uni. He threw her over his shoulder, laughing as his friends cheered and led her to the door of the garden, towards the pool.

When Harry turned, Georgia caught a glimpse of absolute anger in his green eyes, which seemed suddenly darker. But then the look quickly vanished, replaced by the blank expression Georgia was used to seeing. The frown was back too.

“Are you guys…fighting again?” Georgia asked hesitantly, instantly regretting the words that left her mouth. She knew he was going to snap at her, tell her off. She had heard screaming noises coming from Mel’s bedroom the other night, after all.

Harry looked like he was going to snap at her, but then he shut his mouth, his eyes falling shut for a second. When he opened them, his eyes had returned to their normal shade, soft, beautiful and impossibly green, rid of any hint of anger. Instead, they glinted with humour, and Georgia was instantly wary.

“Are you bored?” Harry asked her, his voice suddenly low.

“Sort of,” Georgia said. Bored and awkward.

“Let’s get out of here,” Harry suggested.

“What?” Georgia asked, her eyes wide. “Harry, Melissa—”

“Won’t care,” he said impatiently. “Come on.”

“Where will we go?” she asked, glaring at him. This boy was insane, she was sure of it.

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry shook his head, his curls bouncing around his head. “We’ll go anywhere.”

“Harry, Mel will look for us—” And she’ll be really angry when she finds out I’ve been sneaking out with HER boyfriend.

Harry glared at her, clearly annoyed. “Jesus, stop worrying so much,” he insisted. “She won’t even notice. I think it’s safe to say that she’s…busy.”

Georgia eyed him skeptically. She had the sudden urge to say yes and take up the opportunity.
Admittedly, before Harry had arrived, Georgia had been thinking of ways in which she could excuse herself from this situation. And now he was providing her with a perfect opportunity to do exactly what she wanted, so why not take it?

But then again, there was a catch. The opportunity came, in all its glory, with a six foot nothing, remarkably handsome and impossibly intimidating sarcastic twat, otherwise known as Harry Styles. The thought of roaming the streets this late at night with Harry alone made Georgia’s stomach clench with nerves and whatnot. Besides, she didn’t know what Mel would so, say or think if she found out.

So when Georgia opened her mouth, only one word came out.

“Okay.”
---

They ended up driving around down, going in no particular direction. They drove down the empty streets, Harry’s driving a little too fast for Georgia’s liking. When she tried to ask him to slow down, he smirked at her and rolled his eyes. There he was, laughing at her—again.

“I’m not going to get us killed, relax,” he said, with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re drunk,” Georgia reminded him. “You need to slow down.”

“Are you always this whiny?” Harry frowned at her.

Georgia glared at him and folded her arms childishly, turning away from him. Harry chuckled at her babyish behaviour, but didn’t bother slowing down.

“So, why’d you move here?” Harry asked her, looking at her sideways.

Georgia hesitated. This was a subject she hoped she’d never have to breach, impossible as that idea was. Of course, someone was going to ask her why she’d moved, why they didn’t even know she existed because Melissa had never mentioned her. She tried to think of ways in which she could avoid the subject or change it, but she knew that wasn’t possible.

“Uh…my parents—they died in a crash,” Georgia said hesitantly, still gazing out of the window, although no longer out of annoyance. “Like—like a car crash, so—”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly. He realized now, a little too late, that there was a reason why she seemed hesitant to tell him why she’d moved here the first time he’d asked her. He felt a little stupid now, especially when he observed the way her body tensed her tone became soft. Horrified, he thought she was going to cry.

On some level, Harry related to her. When he was only around seven, his dad had walked out on his mother, leaving her alone with her two children. Harry remembered crying a lot, refusing to eat, unable to sleep. He missed his father and for a lot of time, he simply wondered how he could abandon his child the way that he had. He craved the attention a son deserves from his father constantly. He’d moved on, eventually, but a part of him was still simply a tiny boy, in need of answers, in need of his father. So on a certain level, he understood Georgia’s sadness.

“I’m sorry,” Harry offered, well aware that those words were empty, and they didn’t offer any solace or condolence. He’d heard them so many times himself, and they didn’t mean anything.

Georgia shook her head, wanting to change the topic. She didn’t want to start any conversation that reminded her of her old life, a life she missed so desperately that her heart ached, a physical, unbearable ache. “Yeah,” she mumbled, hoping he’d drop the subject.

To her relief, he did just that. He asked her more questions about her instead, random things of seemingly no particular importance. Out of the whole conversation, the only thing Georgia could figure out about Harry was that he didn’t talk about himself too much. Georgia didn’t push him to do so, choosing to answer his questions instead. He snuck in a snide remark here and then, teasing and laughing at her, but the more they spoke, the harder Georgia found to let her irritation linger for too long. He asked her about her and she found herself giving answers to him without hesitation.

Harry eventually stopped the car on the edge of the tiny hill, overlooking the city below. Georgia looked over at Harry, opening her mouth to ask him why he’d stopped. But he was already unbuckling his seat belt and getting off the car. Georgia did the same and followed him out.

The moment she stepped out of the car, a gust of cold air hit her. She shivered, mentally cursing herself for not even bothering to carry at least a light jacket. She wrapped her arms around herself and followed Harry.

“Where are we going?” she asked him curiously, carefully walking across the gravelly path, trying to navigate over the large rocks cautiously.

“No idea,” he said, and paused to turn back to her. “Hurry up, will you?”

She ignored his snappy remark. “What do you mean no idea?” she asked.

She stepped over a large broken rock and Harry held his hand out for her so she could steady herself. She eyed it for a second before taking it, his large, warm hand encasing her tiny one.
“I mean,” he said, dropping her hand once she’d hopped down and resuming his pace, “that I have no idea.”

“Harry…it’s absolutely dark here,” she mumbled softly, her heart thudding in her chest. “And we’re all alone here…”

Harry paused yet again and turned to look at her, this time with a slight smirk on her face. “Do you think I’ve gotten you here to kill you or something?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know,” she mumbled, annoyed. Her feet were aching, her shoes far too uncomfortable to be walking on such an uneven road. She slid slightly and Harry gripped her arm to steady her.

“Jesus, be careful, will you?” he snapped at her.

She wrenched her arm away from him. “Stop snapping at me all the time,” she frowned at him.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sounding sorry at all.

They walked on and on, Harry in front, occasionally pausing to offer her his hand or to pass yet another remark at her slow pace. She followed him, her feet tiring, her breath becoming uneven, and she shivered from the cold.

“Harry,” she said, and when he didn’t respond and continued walking, she repeated, louder this time. “Harry.”

“What?” he asked.

“I’m tired,” she told him.

“Oh come on,” he groaned, and she knew he was rolling his eyes at her.

“Look,” she said angrily, “I didn’t come with you prepared for a trek, okay? I’m tired and cold and I want to sit down.”

Harry stopped finally and looked at her, annoyance lacing his features, knitting his brows into a frown. “Jeez, okay.” He said, shaking his head. “Just a minute more, then we’ll find some place to sit.”

They walked for a little while more before they came across a slight drop, the noise of gushing water filling the air, the bank surrounded by large rocks. Harry jumped down with ease, and then turned to look up at Georgia, who was staring at the drop hesitantly.

“Jump,” he told her, staring at her impatiently.

“I…”
“Oh come on, are you scared?” he asked her, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” she folded her arms. “I am not, okay?”

Harry held his arms out. “Here,” he said. “I’ll catch you.”

Georgia felt her cheeks heat up, and remained stationary. “Harry…”

“Georgia,” he said, her name rolling off his tongue perfectly, his thick accent and low voice enunciating every syllable clearly. His arms were still raised in the air, as he looked up at her. “Just jump.”

She sighed and came to stand over the edge. Her heart dropped as the fall suddenly seemed a lot bigger than it was. She pushed her irrational discomfort out of her head and jumped.
Immediately, Harry’s arms came around her securely and he caught her. Her breathing hitched when she felt his hands on the back of her thighs where her dress had ridden up slightly, her feet dangling ever so slightly over the ground. She was in his arms, he was lifting her up. Their chest were pressed up together, Harry’s face too close to hers, his breath fanning her face. Her hands were on his shoulders as she looked at him, unable to look anywhere else. Harry grinned slightly and lowered her to the ground, his arms still around her.

“See?” he asked her, breaking their silence, and Georgia was startled into reality. “Caught you.”

Georgia pulled away from him, missing his warmth immediately. She shivered and noticed.

“You really need to get your own jackets,” he huffed, shrugging out of his own.

“I don’t need it,” she retorted. “You’re not doing me a favour.”

“Yeah, I am,” he rolled his eyes as he draped his jacket over her shoulders. “Now come on, you said you wanted to sit.”

They ended up sitting on a rock together, right beside the stream, dipping their legs into the water. At first the water was flinchingly cold, but eventually they warmed up to the temperature.
Georgia tensed when Harry reached for her and fished for something in his jacket, the one that she was wearing. He reached for the pocket inside and fished out a pack of cigarettes. Georgia frowned.

“You smoke?” she asked him.

Harry looked at her and smirked. “Does that really surprise you?”

And in all honesty, it didn’t.

Harry held up the pack. “Want one?” he asked her, using his other hand to take the lighter out of his pocket.

Georgia wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You mean lung cancer? No, thank you.”

“You’re such a kid,” Harry teased, lighting a cig and bringing it to his mouth. She watched him, captivated for some reason, as he sunk in his cheeks and inhaled, his eyes fluttering shut. She watched how the simple act of holding a cig between fingers looked so skillful and perfect when Harry did it, the way his pink mouth wrapped around the stick. He puffed out smoke, and Georgia back away slightly, the strong stench hitting her in the face. She coughed lightly and turned. Harry didn’t bother apologizing, neither did he stop taking drags.

And Georgia couldn’t’ stop staring.

“Something on my face, then?” he asked her.

She blushed, but held her own. “Aren’t you cold?” she chose to ask him instead.

He shrugged. “Vodka keeps you warm,” he said, referring to the drinks he’d had back at Mel’s.

“Rubbish,” Georgia rolled her eyes.

He took another grad, but this time puffed the smoke in the other direction, making sure he’d turned away from her. She was silently thankful.

Harry chuckled. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Well, you sort of stole my jacket, didn’t you?”

Georgia scowled and started to remove the jacket. “You can wear it, you know—”

Harry stopped her, placing his hand on hers. “Shut up,” he said, looking right at her. And once again, she found herself wanting to look away but unable to do so. “I’m kidding.”

“Okay,” she mumbled lamely and Harry withdrew his hand. Her skin tingled where he’d touched her, the sense of warmth lingering on her skin.

And so they sat there on the rock, Harry and Georgia, simply talking and teasing, Georgia managing to let loose a little and tease him back. They spoke and spoke about anything and everything. It was good while before they realized how late it had gotten. They walked back to the car, Harry’s pace slower for Georgia’s sake this time, and he drove her home. Once again, she was sad to part with his jacket, and he graciously bid her goodnight, before driving off, leaving Georgia wondering if this whole night at been some sort of a dream.

Notes

hiiiii! alright, i really do hope you liked this one. guys, please vote and comment if you read this, would mean the world to me. oh, and subscribe! thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanks! <3 <3