A/N: Chapter Playlist

"Farewell To The Fairground" -White Lies

"Toes" (Acoustic) -LIGHTS

"Your Legs Grow" -Nada Surf

"Carry All The Weight" -A Boy and His Kite

---

I sigh before walking into the classroom, hiding behind my loose hair, not wanting to face Roger. Never conceiving the thought of handing in an incomplete paper, yet for the first time, that's just what I was about to do. Careless I know, hadn't my motivation gone down the slumps I would've finished strong like I was destined to. Though its been impossible to write anything with all the drama between Roger and Harry, my brain is too frazzled.

Taking my seat, I place my laptop bag on the desk and burry my face in it. Why did I even come to class? I could've emailed the paper and saved myself the humiliation and grimace I was bound to receive from Roger. My only consolation would be to call Harry right after knowing he'd make me feel better within the first few minutes.

"Okey, if you will all set your papers on my desk, we can proceed in the showin' of Elizabeth Barret's Stranger with a Camera."

This can't be.

My head slowly rises. Why does Roger sound like . . .Harry? I strain my eyes and blink repeatedly but the image is still the same. Harry is typing behind the laptop on Roger's desk, but this isn't right. He looks up at each person as they drop their papers in a pile, flat smile spread abroad his face. Am I the only one that finds this strange?

Wait, I must be dreaming.

I scavenge for my less than satisfactory paper and shyly proceed down to his desk. Looking around, I recognize all my classmates and the room is identical. This is beginning to trip me out as everything seems so normal. I can't remember the last time I realized I was dreaming while still in the dream. Hesitant to release the paper, I wonder what his name is.

"Roger?" I ask and cringe hoping to be right.

"Who?"

"Harry?" I guess again.

"Harold. Did you have a question Miss Pierce?"

"Ummm no, at least I don't think I do."

"You look confused," I see a faint smirk approach. "Why don't you come see me once the film starts."

"Alright."

I turn around to return to my chair, looking back twice and catching him peer up from his screen. This is too bizarre even for my imagination. Harry, or should I say Harold, is my professor? This dream beats the one of him with the blonde on the airplane. . .how do I even remember that?

The lights dim as the white screen comes down. It's all too vivid, from the colors to the sounds. The documentary begins and I watch as Harold stands up and meets my gaze. He signals me to follow him and walks towards the door. Discreetly, I make my exit and find him waiting in the hallway. He's even dressed different with brown slacks and a light blue buttoned shirt, no skinny jeans in sight.

I know I'm drooling, I feel the dampness on the corner of my mouth. His hair is sleeker and combed towards the sides, but there's no taming those curls in the back. Speaking of back, I can't help focus in on his rump as he leads me down to the teacher's lounge.

Harold grabs a styrofoam cup and pours himself some coffee, adding two packets of sugar before he about-faces and leans against the counter.

"So what's troubling you, Miss Pierce?"

"My paper is incomplete," I spit out.

"So you handed in an incomplete paper?"

I nod embarrassed but grin at the fact that his accent is still very noticeable.

"What's so amusin'? Please share."

"Nothing. . .you wouldn't believe me."

"I have time. Please take a seat and join me."

I follow him over to the table and sit with my hands stiff upon my lap. He seems so relaxed as he sips on the rest of his coffee, studying me and waiting for me to start.

"I'm dreaming."

"Excuse me?"

"This is a dream. I'm not kidding," I confess although he must think I'm crazy.

His scowl confirms my crazy statement. Setting the empty cup on the table, Harold leans in as though he needs to hear me say it one more time.

"Come again?"

"See, I told you. I don't expect you to believe me because you are a character in my dream."

"The interestin' question here is . . . why are you dreamin' of me?" His stare turns into the cheeky Harry that I know.

"Good question. Maybe because in real life you're my boyfriend."

"I am?"

"Yes, and you go by Harry."

"Ohhhhh. That's why you- so then who's Roger?"

"He's my friend."

"Do you like said friend?"

"Of course not. I love Harry."

"Me? You love me?"

"Yes. . .I do."

"Well, I'm flattered, but I'm afraid this conversation has taken a rather inappropriate turn."

---

Walking to my car after class, it seems my body knows the script while my thoughts remain disoriented. I conveniently find my car in the parking lot and before I can pull out, I'm hit with an impulsive desire to apologize for my idiocy. Rushing back to Harold's classroom, I ignore the students that float about and walk straight towards him. Just as I'm about to speak, we make eye contact and I witness him struggle to contain his smile.

"Yes, Miss Pierce."

"I just want to apologize for all that gibberish that I said earlier. . . I took some meds this morning that have clearly messed with my head, so . . ."

Harold crosses his arms and stares me down. His grin proves how much he doesn't buy my story but I gave it a shot. I book it towards the exit as I feel my cheeks turn lava hot but I don't make it very far.

"Oh Miss Pierce, that reminds me," he interrupts, causing me to spin on my heels. "I will be having lunch with Ms. Summers tomorrow and she's requested you join us."

I light up forgetting all about my present humiliation. She must want to discuss or tell me in person that I got the internship. I nod and calmly bolt for the door before my cheeks turn into solid shades of garnet. Driving back to my house everything still looks just as normal, except the moment I walk through the door, I enter Harry's place. I haven't transported back to London but apparently I've abducted his home.

Everything is where it should be, the living room the kitchen and dinning table. I rush to the bedroom and my smile widens at the image of his bed and our comfy couch. I hear the door open from the main room and my heart skips at the possibility of seeing Harry.

"Linda?" I laugh.

"Yeah? You alright, Jude?"

I see her throw keys on the kitchen counter and place a grocery bag as well. Does she live here? Is she my roommate?

"Did you just get here? Jude, we have to be ready in like twenty minutes before he picks us up."

"Before who picks us up? Where are we going, its only like two in the after-?" I look outside and hold my tongue, stunned to see its already nightfall.

"My date. Remember, you agreed to go out with me tonight so we could set you up with his friend. Jude, are you sure you're okay?"

"I don't know anymore," I mumble.

"Hurry up and shower. And don't use all the hot water!"

Dragging my feet to the bathroom, Harry's bathroom, I shower and go through the motions of this bizarre episode. I dress in a black button shirt and tweed grey skirt while Linda wears a graphic tee, black leather jacket and jeans. Our hair is down and ready for a wild night. . .I suppose.

Linda's finishing her makeup when I hear a knock at the door.

"Jude, can you get that? Tell him I'm almost ready."

"Sure thing."

I slip on my heels so her date finds my outfit complete. The seconds it takes me to open the door is the same amount it takes for my mouth to part.

"Roger?"

"Yeah, you must be Jude, right?" he assumes.

"I am. . .completely losing my mind. I need to sit down. Can one faint in a dream?" I ramble on heading towards the nearest chair.

"Are you feeling well? Oh and Niall said he'd meet us there."

"Niall? Really?"

"Yeah, I swear you're acting strange," Linda adds. "I'm ready. Shall we go?"

I nod helplessly. I'm just going along for the ride now, trying to make sense of it all is only resulting in a blank headache. We ride in Roger's black sports car, a completely different one than the one he actually owns. The pub must be some figment of my imagination for I've never seen it before. But wouldn't you know it, the live band playing tonight is Phoenix. My subconscious is going all out in these mind games.

The pub is astonishingly nice and dim. Tables and chairs surrounding the intimate stage. The band is setting up their instruments, looks like we made it early. We stop at the bar first to order some drinks while Roger makes a phone call. I double take at the bartender and begin to chuckle. . .you have to be kidding me?!

"Jack?"

"Yeah. Have we met before?" he asks and hands me a White Russian.

"In London," I smirk.

"London? You must be confusing me with someone else then."

"Of course I am," I've come to terms with this psycho babble.

"Come on, let's grab a table. Niall said he's parking now."

We find a table close to the stage when Roger spots someone he knows. He introduces her to the rest of us and asks if she wants to join us. How Linda isn't the least bit annoyed by this, is beyond me. And if that wasn't enough, she chooses to sit between Linda and I. How do I wake up from this already?!

Niall arrives at our table with a beer in his hand and sits next to Roger. We make eye contact but it's hard not to see him as that goofy little brother. The band begins to play as I look around, wondering if there are any more cameos I don't know about. Then I spot him. Why of all people is he here in my unrealistic world?

I lean back and tap Linda's shoulder, all the while new girl sits oblivious to my motions. Pointing towards the few tables behind us, I articulate the name Ethan, my ex. Her eyes widen as she tries to get a better look, though in the midst I'm also scanning who else is at his table and nearly have a heart attack. Why is my ex-boyfriend and Harold sitting together? Granted there are two girls with them, but what kind of twisted dream is this anyway? Unless its a nightmare in disguise.

I gulp down my drink and am in desperate need of another. To make matters more interesting, Niall is chatting with the new girl instead of me. Some double date this turned out to be. I return to find Jack the bartender and ask him for another round. Leaning against the counter I massage my throbbing temples and think of ways to wake up. Whether jumping off a cliff or electrocuting myself, there has to be some trick that will jolt me out of this slumber.

"Interestin' seein' you here," a familiar British accent intervenes.

"Hi Harold," I respond in the dullest tone.

"Don't sound too excited to see me. . .You know I don't get you, one minute you're sayin' you love me and the next minute my presence repulses you."

"You don't repulse me," I shake my head and smile.

"So which is it now?"

"I'm just very tired . . .its been a long and confusing day," I catch my forehead in the palm of my hand as my drink is being passed to me.

"Those meds takin' a toll on you still? Word of advice, I'd stay away from them. Clearly they've misdiagnosed you or lied about the side effects."

His charming grin almost hooks me in, sipping on his beer bottle and throwing me a wink. Why the hell did he do that for?

"I'm afraid winking at a student can also be considered as inappropriate."

"Right, well look around. Does this look like a classroom to you? As far as I can see, we are two people havin' a drink at the bar."

"And the wink, was that your attempt of flirting with me?"

"You're a bright girl Miss Pierce, I think you can figure that one on your own."

Harold turns around, returning to his table and leaving me hot on his tracks. How is he so damn irresistible even in my subconscious? Well actually, that's a no brainer. I join my so called friends and dive into my drink, except its useless, I can't get drunk. I don't even know if I'm drinking a White Russian or a glass of milk. Oh well, Salut!

The music is satisfying and in the meantime I'm checking out the couple to my left. Roger and Linda? I would have never seen that coming. I look behind me a few times as well, catching Harold glancing back, eyes changing into those bedroom eyes I love. There has to be a bathroom somewhere around here right? Not like I actually have to pee or anything.

I walk into the same bathroom that I had first met Perrie in. I see the spot where drunken Meredith laid and even walk into the same stall. I wonder why I'm even hiding in here in the first place, but it seems like something I would do in reality. The door creeks, alerting me that someone's coming in, followed by the steady sound of footsteps. Odd thing is, they don't sound like heels.

Opening my stall door, I step out to find Harold leaning against the sink. I already know why he's here. His arms unfold and hands slip into his pockets. God, does he look good.

"What are you doing in here?"

"I wanna get out of here. Let's say we leave right now."

Again, he looks so sure of himself, already knowing my answer. Not asking if I want to but throwing his desires on the table. Walking closer to him, I stop and cross my arms. Trying to play the serious card, I absolutely fail as my smile increases in width, along with his.

"Where do you want to go?" my arms break free and fall at my sides. I can't even stand my ground in my very own dream.

He pulls his keys from his pocket, tossing them in the air and catching them in the same hand. Standing straight, his body evidently taller than mine, he grabs my hand and comes closer to lean into my ear.

"Anywhere but here."

Moments later we're walking into my place, which is technically his place, and a whole lotta confusing-ness. Harold studies each room he walks in and of course I'm nervous. I think of things to break the awkward silence but am afraid I'll kill my mystery.

"So Harold, do you know what Ms. Summers might want to talk to me about tomorrow? Any word on that internship?" I ask leaning against the island counter in the kitchen.

His wandering eyes dart towards his, my, bedroom. "What's in here?"

"Ummm the bed. . .room."

Standing quietly in the middle of the room, he decides to go sit on the edge of the bed. I hear an annoying noise and I quickly try to find my purse in the kitchen but when I check my phone, the noise ceases. About to turn around, I hit a fleshy wall.

"Har-rold!" I gasp.

"Harry," he corrects me as he whispers.

His hand meets my waist and I sigh into his chest. It's amazing all the beautiful sensations you can feel in a dream. Both hands slide down past my hips and under my bum, gently squeezing before lifting me on the counter. Harry's wearing a sheer black shirt that's practically undone, barely held together by two buttons. A shiny chain catches my eye, bringing my hands to his chest to better examine the necklace. I marvel at the pendant, it's not a cross but a quill.

"Do you like it?" he asks in a deep voice.

He quickly removes it and in turn latches it around my neck. Smiling once he's done, he looks at me as though he were about to say something.

"You have the internship, Jude."

"I do?"

"Yes. . .but I'm moving back to London. . .and I wan't you to come with me."

"Huh-what?"

"I love you, Jude. . .I can make you happier then some stupid internship. This is your chance to live life to the fullest. You'll have plenty of time to work and take an internship later."

"I dunno I-"

"I? Just think about it. . .and wake up."

"What?" I raise my voice in annoyance.

"Wake. Up."

Just like that. With his simple command, my eyes open to the warmth of the sun. The real one.

---

Sitting at the dinning table, I sip on my freshly brewed cup of coffee. I'm spaced out and yet trying to make sense of that whole dream. I've rarely had one that seems like a full on movie, still there were so many hidden messages, leaving my head spinning. First Roger and Linda? Then my quill necklace and internship. . .or leaving with Harry? Perhaps I'm more confused about what I want then I lead myself to believe.

His pale inked body appears at the doorway, arms crossed and in deep thought. I stare back at him in awe, realizing we only have a few hours left. . .again. Harry drags his feet and makes a cup of coffee before joining me at the table. He looks suspicious then smiles at my shirt. Its his.

"Why you sittin' here by yourself?"

"Had another crazy dream. . ."

"I'm noticin' a pattern. You seem to have those the same days you leave. Which, I can think of only one solution for that," he smiles sluggishly.

"What's that?" I take another sip, amused.

"Don't leave."

"If only it were that easy."

He shrugs, "It can be. . .so please don't tell me I was with some other girl."

"No, actually you were my professor. And we kinda flirted back and forth. There were lots of people there but . . . then we ended up in my place, which was actually your house."

"And did what? Was there any action I should be jealous of?"

"Jealous? It was with you silly! And you had me call you Harold till the very end."

"Ugh! Harold? You had a wet dream of me and you ruined it by callin' me Harold," he cringes.

"It never reached the point of becoming a wet dream, Harry."

"What a disappointment," he shakes his head. "At least my dreams with you are way more satisfyin'. Not even a kiss?"

"Nope, although I think you were almost about to, once you lifted me onto the kitchen counter."

"Yeah that sounds like a move I'd pull, but come on!" he laughs.

It's my turn to shrug as I finish my mug. I get up to kiss his cheek and take the dirty dish to the sink.

"Jude, can you come back here please."

Staring at the backside to his wild hair, I creep up to his side. His hand guides my hip to sit on the table in front of him. He looks sleepy still but I sense a challenge within him. While he continues to drink from his cup, his hand caresses my leg as it dangles. His palm cups and squeezes my foot, then slides all the way up to grip onto my meaty thigh.

Harry, slams the cup down and stands up to come closer. Coffee lips meet mine and we enjoy a couple minutes of making-out on the table. When he pulls away enough for our eyes to lock, I feel his hand glide in between my thighs, forcing me to look down.

"Are you feeling better or do you need a distraction?"

I nod, thinking that answered his question, but his seductive laugh says it all. His hand gently guides me to lay down. I make it till my elbows touch the surface; I just have to watch. His fingers are hooking into my boyshorts and sliding them off quite skillfully. Is it weird that I'm about to get eaten on the dinner table? I'm surprised I'm not more nervous.

Harry starts with a trail of kisses along my knee, moving higher quickly. His hands grip underneath my hams and he slides them over his shoulders as he leans in. My elbows give out as I'm forced to look up at the ceiling. One hand's griping the edge of the table while the other shields my eyes. The coolness of his tongue is better than a morning shower.

Gasps echo in the dinning area, though my ears indulge in the juicy sounds from Harry's mouth. The sensations he's stirring in me are a thousand times better and stronger than what I remember. My body's shaking, showing signs of malfunction. Sparks are flying everywhere as we make our last memory in this suite.

My belly begins to dip and I squirm, about to come. The second I glance down and catch Harry staring back at me, a dark shower of pleasure overtakes me. I shudder and clench while Harry moans, provoking me to mimic his sounds as well. His tongue digs deep and flicks rapidly. Once my body eases up, his lips cater my throbbing area with gentle licks and angelic pecks.

"I'd like to see Harold do better," he grins from his seat.

My laugh is weak and legs are still trembling. Thankfully, Harry helps me up and won't brush of that evil smile.

"Do you need a minute before you can stand?" he chuckles.

My eyes stab his green ones. Does he have to rub it in? Harry then backs into me so that I may wrap my legs around him and get carried away to the other room. Soon we are dressed and making our rounds about the room, making sure we've left nothing behind.

Although Harry's flight is before mine, I opt to go with him to the airport, there's no sense in staying behind alone. He asks more questions about my dream on the drive over, laughing and gaping at the unraveling of my private film. We made it out safely from our building but I wish I could say the same in regards to our airport arrival.

There are swarms of flashing bats and sharks, with fans surviving in the midst of them. Its a good thing we got a ride there but even the driver is having difficulty getting our luggage out from the constant pushing of the paparazzi. Luckily a few more body guards make it in time and begin to shove the crowd back. I don't even hear the shouts and screams anymore, its like my whole body tenses up and goes into shock.

Like a mad current, we fight against it. Harry holds firmly to my hand and we walk in calmly with our heads bowed. The calmness doesn't last very long for there are more fans inside. Yet, I sense something different about this crowd. There's a gap from security and I feel Harry being tugged from me.

Several girls have their hands on his back and shoulders, sticking their phones in his face. I hear him tell them to settle down a bit but that only lasts for a moment. He takes several pictures and seeks for my hand to continue forth. Some girls are calling my name and snapping pictures as well. I don't know where to look so I keep smiling even though I'm terrified inside.

One of the guards is running to our aid and just when Harry is about to take a few steps ahead of me I feel a painful jerk. A hand grabs a fistful of my hair and actually yanks me back. My mind doesn't react until Harry spears his eyes behind me, horror written across his face.

My hand consoles my aching head. This person must have pulled out a sum of hair and I can't help but begin to cry from the aftershock. Harry wraps his arm around me and the guards get us through security safely, or as best they can. I hear him try to comfort me but I can't make sense of his words at the moment.

Finally we sit at the waiting area and I see the rest of his friends. At first they smile and then their expressions turn to worry. I feel Harry shake his head as he continues to hug me but then the moment I feared arrives.

"I'm so sorry, Jude. I want nothin more than to stay with you here, but I'm afraid this is the only flight. . ."

I nod in understanding, my hands still clenching tight to his shirt.

"Jude, just come with me. . .please?" his voice cracks.

Looking into his teary eyes, he seems scared. The timing is off and I can't imagine what he's thinking.

"Damn it, why did this have to happen and ruin our morning!"

"I'll be fine," I whisper.

"Jude, come with me."

"No. I'll be okay. My flight is less than two hours anyway."

"But I'm worried about you. Does your head hurt? Do you need anythin'?"

I hear the last call for his flight and his bandmates have already gone in. Anxiety hits hard and I can tell he doesn't want to leave, so I put on a tough face and shine through.

"I'll make sure security gets you to your gate safely, okay love?"

I hear him murmur to the uniformed guard near us before giving me one last hug and kiss.

"Be strong for us, Jude. I feel awful leavin' you like this."

"I can stay with her. We can have some lunch or something." I hear a sweet voice interrupt and we turn to see Sophia smile timidly. "My flight back home isn't till a couple of hours too."

"Thanks Sophie. See, you'll be in good company."

"Alright, alright. Go!" my smile deepens.

"I love you!" Harry kisses me with urgency before ripping his body away.

He looks back and blows me a kiss. Then he's gone, down the jetway. I'd happily cry my eyes out if it weren't for Sophia's hand touching my arm, reminding me things were going to be okay. But how do I recover from this? Can I recover at all?

Notes

40 Chapters!?!?!? I'm so grateful to all of you for inspiriing me to go this far. This is seriously the longest story I've ever written :D And it almost feels like a Season Finale haha... I hope you all loved it as it feels like I just birthed a child haha...again... okay I'm outta here... Merry Christmas in case I don't update sooner. And check out my other story Can't Crush The Boss. I will updating that one next. xoxo