“Mom?” I just barely whisper through the sound of white noise around me.

I see my mother standing a few feet away in front of me. She is surrounded by blinding light, but I can see her face clearly. She is smiling.

I break into a run to hug her. Once I reach her, we both embrace.

“Mom,” I close my eyes and bury my head into her hair. “I miss you so much.”

There is no response.

“Mom?” I open my eyes. Her hair is red, unlike the dirty blonde color that runs in the family.

I pull back to see a death pale face.

“Amelia?” I recoil in horror at the sight of her ghost like face. “Amelia?”

“ROBIN” the volume of her screaming is deafening. I frantically pull away but her grip remains strong on the hem of my shirt. “ROBIN”

I start screaming and pushing her off. I manage to push her down, but even on the ground she clings to my shirt. Her face is stretched and warped into the Tragedy Mask.

“ROBIN ROBIN ROBIN” she keeps screaming over and over.

“Robin!” I am still screaming when I wake up.

Breathing heavily, I try to make out the figure sitting on the side of my bed shaking my shoulder.

“Robin, what the hell?” a rough, deep voice speaks. A palm is placed against my forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Harry?” I slowly steady my breathing. The dim light of the crackling fireplace helps me clear my vision.

“Yeh,” he brushes away the hair plastered to my forehead.

“What are you doing here?” sitting up, lift the sweaty hair away from my neck to the side.

“I could hear you screaming bloody murder all the way from my room,” he raises his eyebrows.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, not sure what to do with the boy sitting to my left. “It was just a bad dream.”

“Sounded like more than just a bad dream,” one eyebrow raised this time.

“Why do you care anyway?” I looked down at my hands. The tilt of the mattress shifted as he got up and walked to a bookshelf.

“Well, the noise you were making made it quite hard to sleep,” he ran his fingers along the spines of the books.

“So um can I help you with anything?” I spoke after a few moments of silence.

“You know, I – um” he turned around grasping at the nape of his neck. “I don’t know why I’m even…”

He starts walking towards the door.

“Wait,” the words fall out of my mouth before I realize what I’m saying. I freeze as he turns to look at me. Too late now, I guess I’ll roll with it. “You can stay – if you want.”

His hand falls on the doorknob. Embarrassment rises in my chest as my insides collapse.

“Okay,” his hand drops to his side.

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out and I am forced to stare at the floor.

“So are these books that you’ve already read?” Harry shatters the silence and sits in front of me on my bed.

“I’ve found a lot that I have, but there’s so many that there could be hundreds I haven’t read yet,” I look around at the bookshelves.

“I didn’t know what books, so I kind of just said to throw in a variety,” he pulls on a loose thread from his shirt.

“It’s fine,” I fumble for words. “Thank you, really, for doing all this.” I gesture my arms awkwardly toward the books. “It means a lot.”

Harry hums in response.

And that’s when I look at him. Really look at him.

The curls in his hair are soft, free from any hair product that he usually has. His features are highlighted beautifully by the light of the fire. His lashes are delicate wisps. The skin between his eyebrows is ever so slightly creased because of his seemingly perpetual frown. His breathing is easy and deep.

“Harry,” a whisper escapes my lips. His gaze moves to mine slowly. “Why are you really here?”

“Because you were screaming and kicking all over the place,” a puzzled look overtakes his face.

“No, why did you stay?” I breathe out my question.

“Because I care if you get hurt,” he says after what seems like ages.

“Then why do you treat me the way you do?” I twist the fabric of my shirt around my finger. “Because all you’ve done is hurt me.”

“You don’t understand,” he stands up abruptly and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” I scoff.

“Yes,” he bursts out. Registering my shock, he sighs. “I’m trying to keep you safe from me, okay? I can’t explain to you why.”

“You can’t just act like you care one second and then treat me like trash the next,” I stand up seething.

“Well I’m sorry, but I’m not the one who makes the rules,” he rubs his face. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself,” I stand up straighter. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

“No!” he shouts and I take a step back. Another sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t expect you to understand – I just – I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I’ll tell you some other time,” he moves to the door. “I don’t want to talk about her – it.”

Harry pauses as he acknowledges his slip up before he walks out.

And that’s when I realized.

Harry Styles had lost someone he loved.

Notes

Sorry for the long wait! I was on vacation and had barely any time to write. Hope you liked the chapter! I know it really wasn't much, but I wanted to sort of get the idea of Harry's past moving along. So comment any theories and your thoughts! Keep shining, my gems. :)
~christi ellie