Chapter 8

To those reading this, Thank You for your patience and understanding. The kind words everyone sent to me helped me through. You are all truly lovely. 

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Bex, the plot and any original characters are mine. The rest is all One Direction.  

                                                                MOMENTS

                                                                Chapter 8

Early evening

March 31, 2015

The ride back to the hotel is filled with tears and Harry whispering words of comfort in my ear.  

“What happened?” Dale asks.

“She’s okay,” he tries to reassure his bodyguard.

“She doesn’t look alright.”

“I got it. It’s fine,” Harry replies curtly.

“Alright...”

Dale ushers us quickly through the rear entrance of the hotel before anyone can see us. I managed to gather myself, somewhat, in the elevator.  I apologize several times, and several times more, as we get to the room. Harry unlocks the door and the sound of Cal and some of the production team makes me stiffen.  I bolt straight to my room before Harry can say anything.

“Hey!  How did it go?” Cal asks loudly. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Uhm...she’s a little upset after our visit to Lalela.  She’ll be alright,” Harry says just before I shut the door to my room.

I can feel a headache coming on, so I strip off my boots and toss the flannel on top of my suitcase. Thankfully, I had packed everything but the kitchen sink with me. You never know what you’re going to need in the middle of nowhere.  I fill a glass of water from the sink in the bathroom and pop three ibuprofen from the stash in my backpack.  Deciding I have had enough for the afternoon, I pull the curtain on the balcony door and curl up under the covers.

                                                                       ~</3~

Some time later, a light tapping on my door wakes me.

“Yeah?”

Cal peers around the door with a concerned look on his face, “You alright, kiddo?”  I nod, shake my head and then shrug my shoulders unsure of what I am.

He chuckles, “We’re going to have dinner downstairs.  Do you want to come?”

“No, thank you. I’ll just get something here.”

“You sure? I know Niall or Louis could cheer you up with their antics,” he asks leaning on the door jam. “Alright, you know where I’ll be if you need anything,” he adds after I shake my head.

“Thanks,” I say trying to give him my best smile.  He closes the door quietly and leaves me to myself.

I turn on my side and think about what Lerato told me.  Her father had left the family and her mom worked every day in a restaurant.  Her older brother brought her with him everyday to the project.  She said he took care of her most nights because her mom was never home. She said sometimes her mom and brother would yell at each other after she went to sleep and it would wake her up.  Her brother would sometimes leave, slamming the door and making the walls in her room shake, but he never failed to be there in the morning to walk to school with her. When she asked me if I was going to come back, I knew she was afraid that people leave and never come back.  That’s when I decided I had to go back and see her.

I pull my laptop off the nightstand and look up the project. I search for contact information and send Suzelle an email asking if it would be alright for me to come back on Thursday to see Lerato.  I check flights from Cape Town to Dubai and book one for Friday evening. Cal was probably going to be unhappy about it, but I needed to go back.  The concert was in the evening Saturday and I’d arrive early that morning.

After looking over the menu in the suite, I call down to Reuben’s and order some salmon and potato gratin, which turn out to be just what I needed.  The headache from crying still lingers, but is better after eating. I take a few more ibuprofen and run myself a bath.

I watch a movie and go over the set list; creating a play list so I was more familiar with the songs. I find my “guilty pleasure” play list and listen while I check my emails.  There is no sign of Harry or word from Cal, so I suspect they are enjoying themselves.  Around midnight, I decide I want a cup of tea. Feeling pretty safe that my roommate isn’t going to be back for a while yet, I keep my ear buds in and dance my way to the kitchen in my tank top and underwear.  I find a tea kettle and set it to heat up.  As I wait, one of my favorite songs comes on.

“Said all I want from you is to see you tomorrow, and every tomorrow, maybe you’ll let me borrow your heart...” I sing.

Hearing the song cheers me up and I hit repeat on my phone. I pull out my ear buds and let the music fill the room.  While the tea steeps, I dance my way out into the living room.    

“And I won’t stop until you believe it, cause baby you’re worth it...”

Sometimes, you just need a good a song to get you out of a shit mood. That one song that you just need to dance to.  This song does that for me.  I usually get my dance on in the privacy of my dark room, while I wait for pictures to develop.  I know that the girls would never enter if I was in there, too afraid to ruin anything.  Neither of them know I considered a little dancing to be one of my guilty pleasures.  

I close my eyes and sway my hips to the beat as I continue to sing with Justin, “Spent all your time and your money just to find out that my love was free. So don’t act like it's a bad thing to fall in love with me, meeee....”

“No, I won’t fill your mind with broken promises and wasted time...And if you fall, you’ll always land right in these arms...these arms of mine...”

I scream and my phone flies out of my hand as I turn toward him.  

“Fucking shit!  You scared the hell out of me!!!” I yell grabbing up a pillow and throwing it at my roommate.

Harry is perched on the side of the couch, arms crossed smiling at me. The dimple is so deep, I could move into it. He dodges the pillow and puts his hands up as I toss another at him.

“You can’t just sneak up on people like that!”

“Well, it was worth it,” He smirks, looking me up and down as he walks over to me and picks up my now silent iPhone.  “ Nice outfit...I thought you didn’t listen to boy bands?”

“Shut up and give me back my phone,” I say reaching for it, but he holds it high in the air.

He laughs and presses play. The song starts again but this time, he sings along with it.

He swings his hips to the beat as he moves closer to me.

“Dance with me,” He says grabbing my hip with his other hand. His touch makes me jump a little.

“No,” I growl crossing my arms in front of me standing my ground.

He smirks and crosses his arms mocking me and begins to roll his body, “but I can be that guy to heal it over time...”

Jesus Christ...I had no idea he could move like that. Between that and the way his mouth moves as he sings, I am mesmerized. He continues to sing the song and dance around me.

By the third round, I’m dancing right along with him.  We dance around the couches and the table in the entry way. He takes my hand and twirls me a few times.   As we make our way back to where we started in the room, I turn my back and sway my hips.  I close my eyes and drop my head, letting the beat tell my body what to do.  

I feel his hand touch my arm and I turn toward him. He grips my hips and pulls me toward him as he quietly sings the last line of the song.

“Not such a bad thing to fall in love with meeee...”

The phone goes silent.  We’re both out of breath, panting heavily. I’m a sweaty mess and he isn’t faring much better. Some of his hair has come out of his bun and sticks to his neck from the sweat we’ve worked up.  

He reaches up and cups the side of my face, his fingers weaving into my hair.  His breath smells sweet from whatever he’d been drinking before he came back.  He searches my eyes a moment before leaning his forehead against mine. I let out a stutter of a breath wondering if he is going to kiss me or not.

I certainly want him to at the moment.  I close my eyes and wait to see what he is going to do.  He releases my other hip and holds my face gently between his hands. I open my eyes quickly to get one good look at him.  I want to see what those moss green eyes will tell me.

He pulls back only slightly and rubs my cheek with his thumb.  Closing my eyes, I lean into his touch and grip his forearms as his nose skims mine.

“Oi Oi!”

“Fooking hell,” Harry jumps away at the sound of his band mates voice.

“What’s going on here?” Louis asks, clearly suspicious of the scene. “Might want to put it away, Love,” he says as he turns his back toward me.

I look down and my white tank is almost see through from the sweat.  Embarrassed, I run to the bedroom and slam the door.

“Did you have to embarrass her like that?” I could hear Harry say loudly through the door.

“I didn't mean any harm.  What the hell were you two doing anyway? You're both all sweaty, hair out of place...tell me you didn’t make a move on the photographer?”

“Get out...” Harry’s voice is much deeper and coarse as he yells at Louis. “Get out of here now!!”

“What is wrong with you?  I'm just asking a simple question, Haz,” Louis yells back.  

“It's none of your bloody business and I won't have you giving her a hard time. Out!”

I couldn't hear Louis’ response, but I did hear a few more expletives from Harry.  Choosing to stay away from the situation, I slip into bed and pull the covers over my head.  My melancholy mood is back and tagging along for the ride is embarrassment.  What was I thinking dancing around the suite with Harry in next to nothing?  And then to have Louis walk in...

I cry as softly as possible so that Harry can’t hear me. The whole day has been an emotional roller coaster... Lareto, the newly emerging feelings for Harry.  I feel like he would be even more upset with Louis if he knew I was in here sobbing.  It’s a mix of everything, not just embarrassing myself in front of his friend.  I’m not here to start a fight between them. I’m here to help out Cal.

Grace would tell me that I need to pull up my knickers and get on with it. Then five seconds later, apologize for being so brutally honest with me. Em would probably say, “Jaysus Bex, why were you dancing around? You should have got him into that bed!”

I'm pretty sure if Louis hadn't walked in, Harry would have kissed me. I’m not sure how to feel after the fact. My head says it isn't a good idea to get involved with him. My heart was another matter.  While our dancing around the suite had quickened its pace, the minute he touched me it felt like it would burst out of my chest.  I could still feel his touch on my cheek. I could still smell the sweetness of his breath.  Thinking about it made my stomach flutter.  The last time I felt like this was a time I don’t want to remember.

“Rebekah?” Harry calls from the doorway. I wipe at my cheeks quickly.   “Are you crying?”  

He enters the room slowly wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a black t-shirt.  It looks to me like he’s taken a shower, his hair is down and wet against his shoulders.

Harry looks at me for a moment, his brow furrowed.  He sits on the edge of the bed, unsure what to do with the emotional basket case in front of him. He’s had to deal with my tears twice today.

“I’m sorry if I or Louis upset you. If I had known almost kissing you would be this upsetting...”

Right now, I see him as any other young man apologizing to a woman.  Filled with anxiety and fear over a simple desire to kiss someone. He’s not Harry Styles, one fourth of the super group, One Direction.  He’s just Harry.

“The problem was I was interested,” I answer truthfully as one big, fat tear rolls down my cheek.

I need to reassure him that it's not that I didn't want him to; I just wasn’t sure it was a good idea. But he’s got this thing about him...

“Who wouldn’t want an attractive man to kiss her?” I shrug.  “If Louis hadn’t come in, you probably would have kissed me, but we got caught up in the moment, I think.”

 

Harry nods his head a few times in agreement. For some reason, his affirmation makes me cry even harder.

“But...but...I wanted you to kiss me. Be-because you’ve got those damn lips and...and...I messed it all up last night. And Louis ca-came in and just jacked everything up again...You probably think I’m mentally unstable or that I don’t like boys...”

“I don’t think you’re mentally unstable. I...I don’t know if you like boys but...”

“You’ve got all that hair...and...” I say waving my hand in the air.

“Uhm...” he says as he fidgets uncomfortably.

“And then today we went and saw those kids and you were fucking adorable with Lareto...calling yourself “Hawwy”...you’ll probably never try to kiss me again...It was so sad see-seeing that little girrrrlll...” I blubber like a lunatic. My thoughts are jumbled, to say the least.

“Lareto still on your mind?” He asks.

I nod as more tears spring forth.  I cover my face, “I’m so-so-sorry. You don’t need to be dealing with me crying anymore tonight.”

“Come on now, none of that,” he scoots closer to me wrapping his arms around me.  His right hand rubs my back as I bury my face in his t-shirt.  His body is warm against mine.  “I don’t like it when women cry...I don’t know what to do. ”

I pull back from his embrace and wipe my eyes with my hands.  I take a few deep breaths to try and calm myself.  

“Here,” he says as a few tissues from the nightstand appear in front of me. “Will you tell me why you were so upset when we left Lalela?”  

I blow my nose in a very unladylike manner, which makes him chuckle.  

“Sorry...”

“No worries. Please... tell me what happened?” He asks again as he stands up.  He holds his hand out to me, palm up.

“What?” I look at him with confusion.

“Tissues...I’ll throw them away and when I come back, you’re going to tell me why you got so upset after leaving Lalela.  Go on then,” he says pointing at his hand.

“You don’t have to,” I answer leaning over the other side of the bed and dropping them into the wastepaper basket.  When I turn back, he’s fluffing the pillows.  He lifts up the blankets and waves me over.

“Alright, over you go, Love.”

“What are you doing?” I ask hesitantly.  

“I’m getting in the bloody bed, Rebekah. I’m not the turn down service. I got you upset and now I feel awful.  I’m not going to take advantage of you, we’re just going to have a chat,” he says as he slips in next to me. He pulls the covers over himself and grabs the box of tissues.  Setting it down next to him, he flips the lamp off.

“I used to do this with my sister.  We’re all set for a good cry...although you already did that,” he laughs before reaching over and pulling me into him.  He wraps his left arm around my shoulder and I instinctively lay my head on his chest.  “Tell Harold what’s got you upset.”

I chuckle a little, “Harold? Is that your real name?”

“No, it’s a nickname. No subject changes.  You’re not getting out of telling me what happened. It was Lareto, wasn’t it?”

“Mmhmm,” I nod against the soft black material of his shirt. “Her father left and her mom is never home. Her brother brings her to the project. He’s basically raising her, Harry,” my breath hitching.

“Where’s her mum?” He hands me another tissue.

“She works to support the family.  She said sometimes her mom and brother fight.”

“That’s horrible,” he says rubbing my arm softly. “No child should have to raise another child.”

“I’m going back,” I look up at him.

“When?” He says brushing a piece of hair off my cheek.

“Thursday.”

“You’re not flying out with us tomorrow?” He asks as he tucks the piece behind my ear.  Normally, I’m not keen on people touching me, but his calm and casual way of doing it soothes me.

“No, I booked a flight for Friday.  I’ll be at Sevens Stadium Saturday morning.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here by yourself, Rebekah,” he sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. “Especially if Lareto’s situation made you so upset...”

“You do realize I travel all over the world by myself?” I answer. “I’ll be fine. This is paradise compared to some of the places I’ve been.”

“Can’t you go back tomorrow before the show and then just fly out with us? I’m sure Cal won’t be too happy that you’re staying over.”

“Well, he’ll just have to get over it. There's too much to do tomorrow .”

“I really wish you’d rethink it,” he says, head leaned back on the headboard as he looks down at me. “Why do you need to go back anyway?”

“I want to see Lareto. She thinks all adults leave and never come back. It broke my heart and I won’t break hers. I told her I’d be back and I will,” I sniffle.

Harry hugs me tightly, “Okay...Alright, I get it.”

“Can I say something?” I ask looking away.

“Of course.”

“I need to be honest with you. I’m not sure getting involved with you is the best idea.”

“I won’t lie to you, Rebekah. I had a crush on you when you were working with Cal the first time. I chickened out and you left. Now, you pop back up and you... intrigue me. I wanted to kiss you last night and out there...” He admits motioning toward the living room.

“You were seventeen years old, Harry,” I say sitting up.  “I was twenty-two. There’s no way anything could have happened between us.”

He laughs quietly and smiles at me, “I’ve dated a few older women. Age isn’t a huge thing for me. If I meet someone and we get on well, their age isn’t important.”

“What’s older? Twenty-three, Twenty-four?”

“Caroline Flack was thirty-two. I was seventeen,” he shrugs. “That wasn’t too long after you worked with Cal.”

I’m a little dumbfounded by this information.  In America, that would be considered illegal in most states without parental consent.  

“I had a brief fling with a radio host...she was thirty-one...” He rattles off like it’s no big deal.

“What did your parents say? Didn’t they object?”

“Age of consent was...is sixteen. They weren’t happy, but it was my decision.”

“Jesus...” I mutter looking away.  “You’re how old?”

“Twenty-one...”

I flop onto my back away from him, “Shit...”

“So...” he laughs at me. “If you were twenty-two then...that would make you twenty-six now.  Not a huge gap.”  

“I think we’re better off not exploring this any further, Mr. Styles,” I laugh at him.  He’s entertaining the idea.  While he’s definitely my type...this is probably not a good thing.  

“Not a bad thing...to fall in love with me...” He sings.

I kick the pillow by my feet at him, “Christ...I’ll probably be brought up on charges just for lying on a bed with you.”

“Well...you have abused me with pillows several times tonight...” He jokes.  We both laugh.  

He slowly sits up and reaches for me, pulling me into his chest, “Are you feeling better?” Our faces are only inches apart and I can feel the pull between us.  

God... he’s beautiful.

I smile, which causes him to display those dimples of his, “Yeah.  Thanks.”

“Good...now, I’m exhausted.  Get back under the covers,” he says pulling at the blankets.

“I don’t think this is a great idea,” I say even though I crawl under them.

“Rebekah, I promise...I am a gentleman, despite how the media portrays me.  Just a snuggle. That’s all,” his eyes heavy.  They aren’t the eyes of a young man wanting a piece of ass.  He looks “well knackered” as Gray would say sometimes.

“Oh, alright...” I mutter as I cozy up to him. He wraps both arms around me as we settle in.  He kisses the top of my head and sighs.

“Good night, Rebekah...”

“Night, Harry...”

Laying here, snuggled up against him, I wonder if I will truly be able to stay away from him.  

Author Note:  So....What do you think?  Think he'll break her defenses down? I'm pulling for them. #HEX could be an adventure. Leave me some love, if you feel like it. ~ Lady H.