Falling for Harry Styles

I was sat on the bed in the room I never use anymore, watching Gemma dutifully fold clothes and neatly tuck them into her bag with various other items. My eyes mindlessly trailed her figure as she flitted around, grabbing things here and there and tossing them in with the rest. “Will you please stop looking like someone killed your cat? I’m only going home.”
“But home is three hours away,” I whined. “It’s just been nice havin’ you round; ‘M gonna miss you is all.”
Her smile was sweet as she came over and sat next to me on the bed. She squeezed me into a small side hug before pulling away with an understanding expression and a pat to my back. “I know, Lee.”
I sucked in a small little gasp and I hoped that along with the shock wasn’t evident on my face. I felt my stomach drop and my heart throb with pain. She removed herself from the bed, seamlessly oblivious to my situation at hand, and I watched silently as she continued. I felt it slowly creeping back, the constricting, stabbing, weighing pain in my chest. It was almost as if it was that first night again and all the progress I’ve made in the last few months was nonexistent. Gemma was completely unsuspecting as she continued packing, rambling about something, but she sounded too far off, like she was calling to me from across a lake.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I vaguely remember bidding Gemma farewell as she left. I remember lying face down in the bed, clutching Harry’s pillow to my chest as I sobbed uncontrollably. I barely recall Harry coming home, not suspecting a thing, and changing before we made the journey to the club. I didn’t want Harry to know, not now, not when we were going out to have a good time with our friends. I wasn’t going to burden him with my problems. I was sober the first time we pushed through the doors of the club, I didn’t plan to be the next.
We made our way to the table and I forced a smile to the people that could fill the gap, but I realized now that they would never be able to replace her. I hid a cringe of discomfort as my stomach turned and Harry tried to usher me into the booth. I shook my head slightly, trying for a carefree light smile, as I leaned into him. “I’m going to grab a drink first.”
“Want me to come with you?”
“No Hazza, I’ll be fine. Do you want something?”
“Pint please,” he flashed a toothy grin as he made the plea. I felt my heart warm the slightest bit as I nodded.
I made my way to the bar, leaning over the counter seeking out the tender. She smiled at me as she came towards me. She was a middle aged woman and looked way too pretty to be a bar tender. “What can I get for you honey?”
My tongue peeked out and swiped along my lips before I replied, “Two vodka shots to start.” I paused and waited until they were set in front of me to continue. “A pint and a Shirley Temple as well, extra vodka in that if possible,” I slammed back one of the shots after I had finished.
“One of those days then?” I’m sure her goal was to sound sympathetic, but to me it just sounded like her leering at my misery.
“Something like that,” I grumbled as I shot back the other.
She smiled and set the Shirley Temple in front of me before walking down the bar to get the beer. I had to quell the almost overwhelming urge to drink a mass amount of the red liquid before I returned to the table. I was trying to keep my internal dilemma hidden from everyone, especially Harry. The last thing I need is questions on why I downed half my “virgin” drink in the short walk back to the table. I saw her returning a short time after and thanked her as I clutched at both the glasses.
I made the walk back to the table and handed Harry his drink as I slid into the booth. I took a sip of my drink and sighed internally at the bitter, burning taste of the extra liquor pouring down my throat. I drowned out the sound of talking and instead tuned my ear into the raunchy club music thumping and vibrating the room. I steadily sipped at my drink, prolonging each sip by a fraction until it had dissipated to nothing and my leg was jittery under the table, vying for relief from the more than dull ache in my chest. The liquor hadn’t had that immediate relief and I chalked it up to not having had enough yet. I subtly excused myself to the “loo”, hopefully shooting down any suspicions as I made my way back to the bar.
“Back for another so soon sweetheart?” I got a supposed-to-be-sweet-but-is-actually-really-annoying smile from her.
“It’s been a fair amount of time,” I replied harsher than really necessary and she raised her hands in surrender at my tone.
“I’m not one to judge.”
“Actually can I just get a glass of vodka, hold the Shirley.” She chuckled at my half-assed attempt at a joke and nodded.
I downed it quickly nodding a thanks and heading back to the table. I slid in with a vague smile and my eyes drifted to the dance floor. A light bulb went off in my head; physical exertion. If the alcohol coursing through my veins wouldn’t numb the pain maybe dancing would. I not-so-gracefully tripped from the booth calling out a “’M gonna dance” to the questions I received. I didn’t push too far into the crowd before starting to move to the beat, desperately trying to lose myself and my thoughts.
The more I danced, though, the less it helped. Memories flooded in of the night I was dragged onto this very floor from where I was perched at that very bar by my very over excited sibling. This was having the polar opposite effect on my emotions and, just as I was about to turn back to the table, I felt a pair of familiar hands on my hips and warm breath against my ear.
“Time to go home love.”
I nodded as I let him lead me through the mass of bodies, out into the nippy night air which was pleasantly welcomed by my overheated body. Harry had removed his touch from me completely, which is odd but I didn’t pay it much mind at the time. He was also silent as we made the short walk home. It wasn’t until we were tugging our shoes off in the entry way that the tension was addressed.
“You going to tell me what the hell that was?” He didn’t sound angry, not even upset, just annoyed.
I just sighed and shrugged as I walked into the kitchen, tugging open the freezer to retrieve the vodka, sipping straight from the bottle. The little excursion to the club had done nothing to quell the ache, not even a little bit.
“Seriously Natalie, what the hell?” he exclaimed as he saw me avidly sipping. He walked over and snatched it from me, dumping the contents down the drain.
“Harry,” I part whined part screamed as I tried to stop him.
“No,” his voice was firm as was the grip he used to hold me out of reach of the bottle. He dropped the now empty bottle and turned to me something alight in his eyes. “How many have you had tonight? I know that Shirley Temple was not virgin.” His voice held a calm even volume, but his tone was firm and demanding.
“Well geez Harry I was with you all night, how many could I have had?” my voice was dripping with bitter sarcasm.
“I wasn’t with you when you went to get drinks,” it was a simple statement and I could feel myself slowly breaking. “And when you were supposedly going to the loo; did you stop by the bar and have a few?” It was meant to be a jab, it felt like one, right to the gut; like he expected nothing less from me and it sparked anger in me.
“I had one,” I growled out. “And if it wasn’t for Gemma and her stupid mouth I wouldn’t have had to!” I nearly yelled my voice breaking on its own. I was more angry at myself than I was at him as I could feel the tears and the hurt coming on.
“What’s Gemma got to do with anything?” His tone was still harsh, but he was concerned now.
“Nothing,” I threw my hands up in disbelief as I felt the tears brimming to my eyes. I stormed off into the lounge before he could notice the water in my eyes, “Absolutely nothing, it’s just stupid.” I heard him follow me, but he made no move to make me face him as I stopped propped up by my hands against the back of the sofa. I inhaled a shaky breath and he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my middle, laying his head in between my shoulder blades. Tears fell and I knew he could feel my uneven breathing. The words left my lips in something barely above a whisper, “She called me Lee.”
That’s all it took and he was forcing me around, crushing his lips to mine; swiping tears from my cheek with his thumb. His hands were gentle as they caressed my cheeks, my sides, my bum; but his lips were forceful as he moved them against mine. His hands moved down to fiddle with my pants, undoing them and pushing them down my legs before he broke the kiss and tugged them off me. “Harry, what are you doing?” I asked breathlessly as he gently pushed me over the back of the couch lying me flat on the cushions and hovering over me.
“Helping,” he replied as he undid his pants as well.
And help he did. With every thrust of his hips into mine, the pain in my chest diminished and my sobs turned into relieved little whimpers.

Notes

So guys this time I'm serious about the end drawing near haha... I've got a few more chapters in my head (at the very least 4)...
But anyway which do you think helps Natalie more, time with Harry or the physical exertion thing? How do you feel about her basically reverting and making all the progress from the past few months void? Or do you think that progress is void at all? Can some one relapse and still pick themselves back up afterwards? Do you think it will effect her progressing further? comment what you think!

Thanks lovelies... couldn't have done this without you guys!!! <3