Harry watched as Mirabelle stuffed her face with the leftover donuts from that morning. He smirked to himself as she downed the fatty donuts with pleasure. If only she knew how unhealthy those were for her.

Mirabelle cleared her throat, gaining Harry’s attention.

“I’d like to meet to meet the boys today.” she declared, setting half of her donut down on the glass plate. She looked very determined, colorful eyes bright, back straight, confident expression.

“Are you sure?” Harry chuckled. “If I recall correctly, the last time you met them they were a bit of a handful.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re not all too bad.” Mirabelle smiled. “I bet they’re all a bit like Louis. Just take some getting used to.”

“You could say that,” Harry shrugged. Mirabelle gave him a sly smile and sipped down half her glass of water. Harry sat in silence and admired her beauty. Everything about her was breathtaking. Every inch of her face, every part of her body that he had seen.

“I would strongly appreciate if you stared at something else,” Mirabelle interrupted, yet again, snapping Harry out of his fantasizing. He blushed and hung his head low to hide to reddening face.

“Which of the boys will I get along with?” Mirabelle questioned, wiping her mouth with the cloth napkin.

“Niall, most likely.” Harry replied after a bit of thinking. “Though Zayn and Liam are both amazing lads as well. They were just a bit off their heads when you first encountered them. I don’t know what got into them that day, especially Louis.”

“Oh,” Mirabelle snorted. “Louis still annoys the shit out of me, but it’s alright.”

Harry grinned and pulled his cellphone from his pocket. “How about I give them a call and ask if they’d like to come over. I’m pretty sure they’re all in town as of now.”

“That would be nice,” Mirabelle nodded.


While Harry went to call his bandmates in the other room, Mirabelle sat at the table, just thinking. She wasn’t at all sure what she was thinking about but eventually her mind settled to Harry’s wonderful features. His tall figure, muscular and gorgeous, his lusious brown locks, his bright green eyes. He kind heart and the care he had given to her, and what had she given him in return?

Nothing.

It seemed as though all the effort was coming from one side of the two, Harry’s side. Mirabelle was only there to make more work for him. She felt terrible all of a sudden, sick infact. Harry was so good at hiding all the pain Mirabelle was giving him, so good that MIrabelle had failed to notice. She gulped down the last of her orange juice. Harry always did whatever Mirabelle wanted him to do. She was controlling him. SHe couldn’t think of a time that Harry had gone against her wishes. As she stared at the white tablecloth covering the wooden table, her hands began to shake.

“I told you to clean the floor!” the woman shrieked kicking the girls side. She cowered in a corner of the room, hiding her face behind her arms.

“I-I’m sorry,” the girl stuttered, “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“Get up!”

The girl stood, her long dirty blonde hair hitting her bum. The shorts she wore showed her scars and burns. She whimpered and grabbed the edge of a chair to hold herself up. She felt undeniably weak within every aspect of her body. It hurt to talk.

“Now go get those damn washcloths. When I come back, I want this whole floor to be sparkling.” the woman barked, spitting on the girl’s hair when she bent down to pick up the washcloths.

If only she hadn’t gone against the woman’s will, and done what she asked for, she could have avoided this torture, at least for this time around. She sighed and soaked the cloth in water, looking at the large kitchen floor. When the water began to dry out of the washcloth, her tears took it’s place.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted movement and looked up just in time to see a flash of blonde passing the doorway.


“Mirabelle!”

Her head slammed onto the table in shock from the sudden noise which had caused her to break from her vision. She groaned and cupped her forehead in her hands from the pain.
Harry cursed, running to her side.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized in a rush. “Did I scare you?”

“Just caught me a bit of guard,” she answered meekly, rubbing her forehead. “I just need ice.” She began to get up to go into the kitchen when Harry placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s alright,” He said. “I can get it for you.”

“I’ve got it,” she barked, her familiar independent instincts taking over her. Harry stepped back, clearly shocked by her sudden short outburst. Mirabelle ignored his hurt expression and went in to the kitchen. She grabbed from ice from the freezer and placed it in a plastic bag, then pressed it to her forehead. She entering the dining room to see Harry, still quite surprised.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I called the boys and they aren’t free today.”

“Oh,” Mirabelle sighed.

“But they are free tomorrow.” Harry grinned slowly, continuing to look at Mirabelle. She smiled and nodded.

“Alright. So they’ll come by tomorrow then?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered. The room filled with an awkward silence.

Harry watched as Mirabelle squirmed as she stood. There were mixed emotions on her face, none of which Harry could fathom. She gripped the edge of a chair and Harry caught her sweeping a tear away from her face. He frowned and leaned against the table.

“Hey,” he whispered softly. “Come here.” He opened his arms out to her and watched as she slowly released her weight off of the chair. She walked over to him and whimpered against his t-shirt. Harry wrapped his arms around her body, hugging her to him. She was so warm, and the smell of her hair was so wonderful, filling his nose.

“Why are you crying, Mirabelle?” he asked gently, caressing her hair. She pulled away just enough so that Harry could see her face. Her beautiful face. Her eyes were still colorful, glistening with her tears. He reached up and wiped her tears from her eyes, holding her close.

“You’ve done so much for me,” she answered weakly. “All I’ve done for you is given you more work. You’ve done everything I could ever want someone to do for me. No one has ever treated me so right, yet here I am crying because I haven't managed to give you everything I have. I-I’m just a burden to you.”

Harry’s heart broke at her words. He took her face gently and made her look him in the eyes. “You are most certainly not a burden, Mirabelle. I’ve never thought of you that way, nor will I ever. You don’t realize what you’ve given me. You’ve given me someone to care for, someone to hold on to. You are so strong and you don’t know how much I admire that.”

Mirabelle went silent.

“I want to get a job.”

Harry dropped his arms from her and stepped back to get a better look at her.

“You what?”

“I want to get a job,” she answered louder, crossing her arms over a chest. Harry almost got a heart attack at the words. She was still so naive, so new to the world she had seemed to be left out from forever. No, this wasn’t right.

“That’s not what you want.” Harry shook his head, trying to knock some sense into her. “There are so many people out there who you don’t know. I-It’s not safe for you.”

“But it's safe for you?” she shot back, clearly angered by his words. “You can’t stop me from getting a job, Harry. I’m going to do it.”

“Mirabelle, seriously, think about this. You can’t just decide to get a job because you think you’re a burden. And you can't just go out and find a job in one day.”

“I don’t care, Harry,” she seethed, backing away towards the stairs. “You know what? I’m going to go look for a job right now.”

“I’m not going to drive you!” Harry shouted. No way was he going to help Mirabelle get closer to danger. There was so much she still didn’t know about the world out there. God, what was she thinking? She didn’t answer to his shout, already upstairs where he could no longer see her.

Damn it. He couldn’t just let her go out on her own. But if he came with her… no. Miabelle was strong enough. Harry had to trust Mirabelle. She was extremely clever and very smart. She could manage for a day out of the city of London by herself.

Right?

---

It had been a mere four hours and Mirabelle still didn’t come home. He played with his cellphone in his hands, wondering if he should call her. She was probably pissed by him at this point, and it probably wasn’t a good idea to call her. Harry dialed her number anyway. He held the phone up to his ear and waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” Mirabelle voice boomed through the speaker. Harry winced at the sudden loud greeting, but recollected himself and answered.

“How are you?” he asked. “Have you found yourself a job yet?”

Mirabelle giggled, her voice extremely squeaky. “I’m at the fabric store,” she slurred. Wait. Why the hell was she slurring?

“Mirabelle?” Harry shouted, already starting to stand up and grab his coat. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” she giggled louder. Harry could hear loud music going on in the background. People were shouting, cheering and yelling in the midst of the music. “I’m in a fabric store!”

“Fuck, Mirabelle. You are not in a fabric store!”

“Yess-ss I aa-am.” she slurred, groaning afterwards. “There’s a big sign that says so!”

Fabric store? Fabric store. Fabric. Store.

Fabric.

“Mirabelle!” Harry yelled, gripping his brown locks. “You’re in a damn club! The name of it is ‘Fabric’.”

“You’re silly,” she giggled. Harry heard she gulping something down. She let out a satisfied ah, and giggled again. “I’m in the fabric store. They gave me a job, too!”

Harry’s eyes widened and he bolted towards the door, still holding his cell phone to his ear. It was raining outside, the water instantly hitting his face as he ran towards his car.

“Mirabelle, what was the name of the job you got?” he demanded, starting his car. He pulled out of the driveway and sped down.

“A-a barrtender-rr,” Mirabelle giggled. “Isn’t that exciting?”

“No, babe,” Harry groaned. “Look can you go outside and wait for me? I’ll be there soon.”

Mirabelle hung up on him.

“Mirabelle?” Harry shouted into the phone. “Dammit, Mirabelle answer me!”

When no one answered, Harry threw his phone onto the passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel tighter. How could he have been so stupid? No doubt about it, Mirabelle would get into some kind of trouble if she went out by herself. For all he knew, someone could have drugged her. He whimpered, trying to keep himself together as he drove down the glazed road. When he reached Fabric, one of the top clubs, he pulled up by the curb and pulled the hood of his coat over his head. WHen he stepped onto the pavement, the cold weather hit his skin quickly. He shivered and made his way to the entrance. A female bouncer stood by the door, looking bored. She wore inappropriate attire that slightly disgusted Harry. It was too revealing for his eyes. The bouncer looked up and a smug expression took over her face.

“Harry Styles,” she smacked on her gum. “Isn’t this just a blessing?”

“Look, I need to get in there,” Harry pleaded, keeping his eyes on hers. He didn’t dare look further down.

“Got a reservation?” she asked, twirling her blonde hair.

“Harry!” A familiar shout interrupted his approaching dialogue. He turned and almost began crying with relief. There was Mirabelle, running towards him from the exit.

“It’s so cold!” she squealed, tugging her thin coat over her skin. She continued to giggle when she reached him. Harry couldn’t do much but hug her. Her breath reeked of alcohol when she giggled, causing Harry to cringe.

“Come on,” he sighed. “lets get you home.”

“But I don’t want to go home.” she slurred, grabbing Harry’s face. “I wanna stay at the fabric store.” She pinched his cheeks and pulled on his face. Harry swat hers hand away from his face and grabbed them instead, setting them down by her sides.

Harry tried to pull her towards his car but she didn’t budge. He turned back to her with a stern gaze.

“Come on, Mirabelle.”

“Who’s Mirabelle?” she shrugged, looking around. “I’m Bella.”

Harry took a deep breath and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed, her voice echoing the streets as he carried her to his car. He set her down in the passenger seat, strapping the seat belt across her chest. He jogged around the front and got into his seat, starting to car.

“I hate you.” she groaned, slapping the back of his head. Her words hurt Harry, even if they weren’t true. He just kept his eyes on the road and drove. It was hard to concentrate though, because Mirabelle began rambling about the club which was referred to as the “fabric store.” She giggled with a high pitch tone once in a while, then began singing songs.

When Harry arrived home, Mirabelle had stopped talking. She had completely passed out under the influence of alcohol. She was probably a lightweight when it came to drinking. Harry lifted her out of the car seat and pushed the door closed, managing to carry her into the warm house. He shut the door and turn the key to lock it, then carried Mirabelle up to her room. As he made his way up the stairs, he studied her face. She looked peaceful, breathing softly. Harry brought her to her bed and set her down slowly, though he was sure she wouldn’t wake up either way. He stood in front of her, rubbing his chin. Would it be right to change her clothes for her? It was better than waking up to smelly clothes, wasn’t it?

Harry slowly pulled on Mirabelle’s tights and slipped them off her body, followed by her shirt. He quickly ran to his room and grabbed a pair of his sweats and a nice Gun’s and Roses t-shirt. He slipped the sweats up her legs and laughed quietly when he saw the waistline was a bit too big for her. He tried not to stare much at her body, she was so beautiful though, it was hard not to. Her curves were wonderful, but the way she shivered with only his sweats on snapped Harry back to his senses. He pulled the shirt over her head and slipped her arms through the sleeves. Harry picked her up and set her head on the pillow, covering her body with the duvet. He slowly untied her hair from her bun and brush through her hair with his fingers.

Lastly, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and left her to sleep.

When Mirabelle woke up, her head was throbbing. Her eyes felt heavy to the point where she could barely keep them open. Only seconds later, Harry stepped into her room. He held a plate of donuts in one hand, and a glass of water and a small white bottle in the other.

“Good morning,” he said softly, walking up to her. He set the plate of donuts down on the night table and sat down beside her.

“Drink this,” he said, handing her the glass of water. “It will help.”

Mirabelle swallowed a small pill from the white bottle with her water, followed by another. She sighed and pressed her head further into her pillow.

“We need to talk about last night when you’re feeling better,” Harry notified, caressing her cheek. Mirabelle nodded and touched his hand.

“Thank you.” she said softly. Harry smiled and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Mirabelle’s lips. She put her hands on his face, kissing him back.

“Just rest until you feel better,” Harry instructed. “Okay?”

“Okay,”Mirabelle replied. Harry kissed her once more before getting up from the bed.

“By the way,” Harry said, stopping by the door. “The boys are coming over for lunch.”
Mirabelle groaned, wondering if she could handle four more boys in the house while she felt so pained. She couldn’t remember at all what had happened last night, except for the small argument she had had with Harry about getting a job. What had happened after that?

She figured once she and Harry talked, that would be answered.

Notes

Wow.... been a long time since I've updated. Sorry about that!