Flashes in Time
Chapter Eleven
Mirabelle woke up with un-necessary weight on her cut. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and then opened them, adjusting to the light of the morning sun. Harry’s arm’s full weight was slung across her waist, and it was too much weight for her bruise. She winced in pain as she tried to sit up. Mirabelle tried to get his arm off her waist, but he was clinging on tightly.
“Harry. Get up.” She hissed into his ear. He was snoring lightly, obviously not affected by her demand.
“Get up, you idiot.” She said, raising her voice just a bit. His eyes popped open, frightening her. She jumped, her cut pressing into Harry’s arm. She bit her lip and sucked in a breath.
“Oh my god.” Harry whispered in a raspy morning voice. He took his arm away, looking up at Mirabelle. “I’m so sorry.”
“No point saying sorry. Damage is done.” Mirabelle snapped, raising her shirt up to see her cut. It was bruised a little around the edges, but not bad. Still, it hurt way worse than it looked.
“Let me see.” Harry said, moving Mirabelle’s hand away. He ran his thumb against the bruised skin, his cold fingers soothing her warm skin.
“It hurts.” Mirabelle told him as he examined the cut.
“I’ll get some ice.” He said, kicking his legs out of the duvet and standing up. He left the room and came back in quickly with a bag of ice in his hand.
“Here, let’s see.” Harry bent down and placed the ice bag on the cut. Mirabelle hissed at the sudden shock of pain, but kept herself calm.
“The pain will die down.” He said, and then rubbed his forehead. “As for me, I think the beer is getting to me. I’m going to get myself some Advil.” Harry left the room again.
Mirabelle kept the ice pressed to her stomach and looked around Harry’s room. It was bigger than hers, and a lot messier. His clothes were thrown around the room, his curtains crooked and rumpled. Mirabelle smiled, deciding that this room perfectly represented Harry. Messy, but cute in a way.
“I feel like I have a rock on my head.” Harry groaned, walking back into the room and collapsing on the bed beside Mirabelle.
“I feel like someone’s arm was on my cut all night.” Mirabelle said, narrowing her eyes at Harry.
“I’m really sorry, Mirabelle. I would’ve moved it away sooner if-“
“Harry, it’s okay.”
“Geez. You’re bipolar.” He chuckled, tucking his hands behind his head.
Mirabelle giggled suddenly, remembering Harry’s act last night.
“You’re funny when you’re drunk.” She laughed, watching Harry’s face turn red with embarrassment.
“What do you mean?”
“You begged me to stay here. You told me that you needed a ‘snuggled buddy’. You wouldn’t stop calling me Bella. You told me that I was hot and a bunch of other shit, but you want to know the worst part?”
“I don’t know? Do I want to know?” Harry chuckled nervously.
“I had to carry you to your room. You’re heavy, Harry.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god. This is embarrassing.”
Mirabelle laughed, scooting closer to him on the bed so that they were rested on the same pillow.
“I’m never going to get drunk around you ever again.” Harry declared.
Mirabelle shrugged. “Next time, I’m videotaping it and posting it on YouTube for your oh so lovely fans to see.”
Harry shook his head, actually buying Mirabelle’s little threat. “Please don’t. I would be a huge joke and it would spread so fast.”
Mirabelle sighed, the room going silent for a second.
“How does it feel? To be famous? To know that one mistake can lose all your fans?”
Harry thought for a moment, slowly placing his arm under Mirabelle’s head, between the pillow and her lower head.
“It sucks.” He admitted. “Sometimes I wish everyone would leave me alone. But paparazzi don’t understand the meaning of ‘personal space’. They get all up in your nose and shoot you with a million questions. They never ask you if you want your picture all over the internet. They never ask you how your day has been. If you’ve slept okay. If they should go away. They don’t really care about you. They just want a career. As for the fans, sometimes, and no offense, they’re like mini paparazzi. Always gossiping, and believing stupid rumors. It gets crazy.”
“But…?” Mirabelle pushed.
Harry grinned. “But I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world.”
Mirabelle sighed. “Seems like you’ve got a great future ahead of you You’re lucky.”
“There’s got to be something you’ve always wanted to do.” Harry argued, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I can’t remember.” Mirabelle said softly, biting her lip.
“You bite your lip a lot.” Harry noticed.
“So do you.” She laughed, blinking as she looked up at him.
“I’m never going to get over your eyes. Never ever. They’re just too beautiful to be something normal.”
Um, thank you?” Mirabelle replied.
“You’re welcome.”
“I have a question. Why didn’t Louis or any of the other boys freak out when they saw my eyes? Louis acts like he doesn’t even notice them?”
Harry sighed, prepared to tell the truth.
“I knew that you seemed really insecure about what people thought of your eyes, so I told them not to make a big deal of it. I’m kind of surprised that Louis didn’t say anything about them, but all I said was not to make it seem super important.”
“Oh,” Mirabelle smiled a little. “That’s sweet of you, I guess.”
Harry sighed. “Mirabelle?”
“Yeah?”
“Louis and Eleanor are probably still asleep. What do you say we go draw on their faces with toothpaste?” Harry grinned, sitting up in bed. Mirabelle put on a devious smile.
“I’m in.”
Harry and Mirabelle tiptoed into the guest room, where Louis and Eleanor were fast asleep. They had tubes of toothpaste in their hands, ready to attack. Harry approached Louis while Mirabelle took Eleanor.
Mirabelle uncapped the toothpaste tube and squeezed some eyebrows onto Eleanor, along with a toothpaste smile and two nostrils. She added circles on her cheeks for blush. Mirabelle tried extremely hard not to giggle, clapping a hand over her mouth while doing her artwork.
Harry on the other side of the bed was drawing a mustache and a beard on Louis’s face, giving him a uni-brow and vampire teeth poking out of the mustache.
Harry looked over at Mirabelle, who looked extremely focused as she squeezed toothpaste Eleanor. Her tongue was sticking out, and Harry thought she looked cute.
Harry turned back to Louis, thinking for a moment. Then, on Louis’s forehead, he drew out the overly inappropriate word.
Mirabelle looked over and gasped at Harry’s work, mainly the inappropriate word on this head. Harry signaled to Mirabelle that it was time to leave.
The two of them quietly left the guest room, running back to Harry’s room. They shut the door and let out their laughter.
“Louis is going to be so pissed off.” Harry gasped as her laughed.
“Eleanor is going to hate my guts.” Mirabelle giggled along,
“Whatever. Good job, partner.” Harry grinned, holding out his hand. Mirabelle paused, and then pulled him into a hug instead. He deserved it. Harry smiled as they quieted down, embracing each other in the hug. When Mirabelle pulled away, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He loved hugging her. Just holding her in general felt right. So right, and yet Harry knew Mirabelle would always have walls that he couldn’t break down.
Harry and Mirabelle sat in the kitchen an hour later, eating fresh bought donuts. Harry was taunting Mirabelle by slowly sinking his teeth into each donut he ate.
“Harold fucking Styles!” a voice yelled. Harry’s head snapped up to Mirabelle, both their eyes wide. ‘Louis’, Mirabelle mouthed. Harry nodded.
“You little fucker.” Louis cursed stepping into the kitchen. Harry was trying not to grin, pursing his lips.
“Nice makeup. Who did it for you?” Mirabelle smirked, cocking an eyebrow at Louis. Louis glared at Mirabelle, then at Harry.
“El and I are so going to get you guys back.”
“Oh, we’re so scared.” Harry whimpered sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
“You better be. Watch your back. We’ll get you back when you least expect it.” Louis threatened. Then, Eleanor walked in, glaring at Mirabelle.
“Mirabelle, I thought we were friends.”
“I’ve only known you for barely a day.” Mirabelle giggled, or more like choked on her ridiculous laughs.
“You guys are terrible.” Eleanor spat, frowning.
“Ah, come on. It was just a joke you guys.” Harry shrugged, offering them the box of donuts. The couple turned away and walked off.
Mirabelle turned in her chair to face Harry.
“I’m going to be scared to get out the bed from now on.” Harry whispered. Mirabelle cracked a grin.
“It’s Louis and Eleanor.” Mirabelle shrugged.
“Exactly,” Harry said. “It’s Louis and Eleanor. They are like, the number one prank couple.”
“So you’re saying I should be scared?” Mirabelle asked, wondering what Louis and Eleanor were capable of. Harry seemed scared enough by the two.
“Mirabelle, I think we should be terrified.”
Louis and Eleanor left after lunch, and after a decent game of Ping-Pong in Harry’s garage.
Harry and Mirabelle were in their separate rooms, Mirabelle fast asleep. Harry sat on his bed, trying to juggle a suggestive thought. He wondered if he should get Mirabelle a phone so they could keep in touch whenever he went on tour or if they were apart. He didn’t ever want to lose touch with her, and he didn’t want to have to leave notes every time he left the house.
Yes, it was time to get Mirabelle a phone.
He smiled to himself and grabbed a sticky note from his desk. He scribbled a quick note to Mirabelle.
Mirabelle,
I’m going out for a bit. Don’t get worried if you wake up and I’m not at home. Keep the doors locked and don’t let strangers in. I’m probably starting to sound like an over protective mother so I’ll leave it at that. I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t burn my house down!
-Harry x
He laughed and grabbed the stick note, running up to Mirabelle’s room. He quietly opened the door to see her sleeping peacefully, snuggled up in her blankets. He smiled, embracing the silence and the beauty of the girl sleeping. He then turned to the door and stuck the note on it, closing the door behind him.
Harry stuck his feet into his shoes, pulled on a jacket and zipped it up, then headed out the door.
“Harry. Get up.” She hissed into his ear. He was snoring lightly, obviously not affected by her demand.
“Get up, you idiot.” She said, raising her voice just a bit. His eyes popped open, frightening her. She jumped, her cut pressing into Harry’s arm. She bit her lip and sucked in a breath.
“Oh my god.” Harry whispered in a raspy morning voice. He took his arm away, looking up at Mirabelle. “I’m so sorry.”
“No point saying sorry. Damage is done.” Mirabelle snapped, raising her shirt up to see her cut. It was bruised a little around the edges, but not bad. Still, it hurt way worse than it looked.
“Let me see.” Harry said, moving Mirabelle’s hand away. He ran his thumb against the bruised skin, his cold fingers soothing her warm skin.
“It hurts.” Mirabelle told him as he examined the cut.
“I’ll get some ice.” He said, kicking his legs out of the duvet and standing up. He left the room and came back in quickly with a bag of ice in his hand.
“Here, let’s see.” Harry bent down and placed the ice bag on the cut. Mirabelle hissed at the sudden shock of pain, but kept herself calm.
“The pain will die down.” He said, and then rubbed his forehead. “As for me, I think the beer is getting to me. I’m going to get myself some Advil.” Harry left the room again.
Mirabelle kept the ice pressed to her stomach and looked around Harry’s room. It was bigger than hers, and a lot messier. His clothes were thrown around the room, his curtains crooked and rumpled. Mirabelle smiled, deciding that this room perfectly represented Harry. Messy, but cute in a way.
“I feel like I have a rock on my head.” Harry groaned, walking back into the room and collapsing on the bed beside Mirabelle.
“I feel like someone’s arm was on my cut all night.” Mirabelle said, narrowing her eyes at Harry.
“I’m really sorry, Mirabelle. I would’ve moved it away sooner if-“
“Harry, it’s okay.”
“Geez. You’re bipolar.” He chuckled, tucking his hands behind his head.
Mirabelle giggled suddenly, remembering Harry’s act last night.
“You’re funny when you’re drunk.” She laughed, watching Harry’s face turn red with embarrassment.
“What do you mean?”
“You begged me to stay here. You told me that you needed a ‘snuggled buddy’. You wouldn’t stop calling me Bella. You told me that I was hot and a bunch of other shit, but you want to know the worst part?”
“I don’t know? Do I want to know?” Harry chuckled nervously.
“I had to carry you to your room. You’re heavy, Harry.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god. This is embarrassing.”
Mirabelle laughed, scooting closer to him on the bed so that they were rested on the same pillow.
“I’m never going to get drunk around you ever again.” Harry declared.
Mirabelle shrugged. “Next time, I’m videotaping it and posting it on YouTube for your oh so lovely fans to see.”
Harry shook his head, actually buying Mirabelle’s little threat. “Please don’t. I would be a huge joke and it would spread so fast.”
Mirabelle sighed, the room going silent for a second.
“How does it feel? To be famous? To know that one mistake can lose all your fans?”
Harry thought for a moment, slowly placing his arm under Mirabelle’s head, between the pillow and her lower head.
“It sucks.” He admitted. “Sometimes I wish everyone would leave me alone. But paparazzi don’t understand the meaning of ‘personal space’. They get all up in your nose and shoot you with a million questions. They never ask you if you want your picture all over the internet. They never ask you how your day has been. If you’ve slept okay. If they should go away. They don’t really care about you. They just want a career. As for the fans, sometimes, and no offense, they’re like mini paparazzi. Always gossiping, and believing stupid rumors. It gets crazy.”
“But…?” Mirabelle pushed.
Harry grinned. “But I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world.”
Mirabelle sighed. “Seems like you’ve got a great future ahead of you You’re lucky.”
“There’s got to be something you’ve always wanted to do.” Harry argued, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I can’t remember.” Mirabelle said softly, biting her lip.
“You bite your lip a lot.” Harry noticed.
“So do you.” She laughed, blinking as she looked up at him.
“I’m never going to get over your eyes. Never ever. They’re just too beautiful to be something normal.”
Um, thank you?” Mirabelle replied.
“You’re welcome.”
“I have a question. Why didn’t Louis or any of the other boys freak out when they saw my eyes? Louis acts like he doesn’t even notice them?”
Harry sighed, prepared to tell the truth.
“I knew that you seemed really insecure about what people thought of your eyes, so I told them not to make a big deal of it. I’m kind of surprised that Louis didn’t say anything about them, but all I said was not to make it seem super important.”
“Oh,” Mirabelle smiled a little. “That’s sweet of you, I guess.”
Harry sighed. “Mirabelle?”
“Yeah?”
“Louis and Eleanor are probably still asleep. What do you say we go draw on their faces with toothpaste?” Harry grinned, sitting up in bed. Mirabelle put on a devious smile.
“I’m in.”
Harry and Mirabelle tiptoed into the guest room, where Louis and Eleanor were fast asleep. They had tubes of toothpaste in their hands, ready to attack. Harry approached Louis while Mirabelle took Eleanor.
Mirabelle uncapped the toothpaste tube and squeezed some eyebrows onto Eleanor, along with a toothpaste smile and two nostrils. She added circles on her cheeks for blush. Mirabelle tried extremely hard not to giggle, clapping a hand over her mouth while doing her artwork.
Harry on the other side of the bed was drawing a mustache and a beard on Louis’s face, giving him a uni-brow and vampire teeth poking out of the mustache.
Harry looked over at Mirabelle, who looked extremely focused as she squeezed toothpaste Eleanor. Her tongue was sticking out, and Harry thought she looked cute.
Harry turned back to Louis, thinking for a moment. Then, on Louis’s forehead, he drew out the overly inappropriate word.
Mirabelle looked over and gasped at Harry’s work, mainly the inappropriate word on this head. Harry signaled to Mirabelle that it was time to leave.
The two of them quietly left the guest room, running back to Harry’s room. They shut the door and let out their laughter.
“Louis is going to be so pissed off.” Harry gasped as her laughed.
“Eleanor is going to hate my guts.” Mirabelle giggled along,
“Whatever. Good job, partner.” Harry grinned, holding out his hand. Mirabelle paused, and then pulled him into a hug instead. He deserved it. Harry smiled as they quieted down, embracing each other in the hug. When Mirabelle pulled away, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He loved hugging her. Just holding her in general felt right. So right, and yet Harry knew Mirabelle would always have walls that he couldn’t break down.
Harry and Mirabelle sat in the kitchen an hour later, eating fresh bought donuts. Harry was taunting Mirabelle by slowly sinking his teeth into each donut he ate.
“Harold fucking Styles!” a voice yelled. Harry’s head snapped up to Mirabelle, both their eyes wide. ‘Louis’, Mirabelle mouthed. Harry nodded.
“You little fucker.” Louis cursed stepping into the kitchen. Harry was trying not to grin, pursing his lips.
“Nice makeup. Who did it for you?” Mirabelle smirked, cocking an eyebrow at Louis. Louis glared at Mirabelle, then at Harry.
“El and I are so going to get you guys back.”
“Oh, we’re so scared.” Harry whimpered sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
“You better be. Watch your back. We’ll get you back when you least expect it.” Louis threatened. Then, Eleanor walked in, glaring at Mirabelle.
“Mirabelle, I thought we were friends.”
“I’ve only known you for barely a day.” Mirabelle giggled, or more like choked on her ridiculous laughs.
“You guys are terrible.” Eleanor spat, frowning.
“Ah, come on. It was just a joke you guys.” Harry shrugged, offering them the box of donuts. The couple turned away and walked off.
Mirabelle turned in her chair to face Harry.
“I’m going to be scared to get out the bed from now on.” Harry whispered. Mirabelle cracked a grin.
“It’s Louis and Eleanor.” Mirabelle shrugged.
“Exactly,” Harry said. “It’s Louis and Eleanor. They are like, the number one prank couple.”
“So you’re saying I should be scared?” Mirabelle asked, wondering what Louis and Eleanor were capable of. Harry seemed scared enough by the two.
“Mirabelle, I think we should be terrified.”
Louis and Eleanor left after lunch, and after a decent game of Ping-Pong in Harry’s garage.
Harry and Mirabelle were in their separate rooms, Mirabelle fast asleep. Harry sat on his bed, trying to juggle a suggestive thought. He wondered if he should get Mirabelle a phone so they could keep in touch whenever he went on tour or if they were apart. He didn’t ever want to lose touch with her, and he didn’t want to have to leave notes every time he left the house.
Yes, it was time to get Mirabelle a phone.
He smiled to himself and grabbed a sticky note from his desk. He scribbled a quick note to Mirabelle.
Mirabelle,
I’m going out for a bit. Don’t get worried if you wake up and I’m not at home. Keep the doors locked and don’t let strangers in. I’m probably starting to sound like an over protective mother so I’ll leave it at that. I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t burn my house down!
-Harry x
He laughed and grabbed the stick note, running up to Mirabelle’s room. He quietly opened the door to see her sleeping peacefully, snuggled up in her blankets. He smiled, embracing the silence and the beauty of the girl sleeping. He then turned to the door and stuck the note on it, closing the door behind him.
Harry stuck his feet into his shoes, pulled on a jacket and zipped it up, then headed out the door.
Yayyyy you updated!!!!!! And it was worth the wait!
1/29/14