Loose Change (Harry Styles) [BOOK 2]

Harry's POV
"Hey mate. Wake up."
I place my pillow over my head trying to block out the sound and hope that if I just ignore it, it'll go away.
"Harry. If we're late to the studio again, Simon will chop our balls off. Now come one."
I feel myself groan in defeat as well as a shitload of pain as I sit myself up. My eyes open to meet Niall looking pretty fucking exhausted, holding a glass of water and two pills.
"My head hurts like a bitch." I complain as I close my eyes and grab the pills and cup from his hands.
I nod my head in thanks as I see him chuckle.
"Well I guess you are what you feel." he states.
I throw the pillow at his face before I swallow both capsules and I place the cup on my nightstand.
"I don't need this shit right now. Just let me be."
I see how his demeanor changes and of course I feel a little bad about it, but he should know not to freaking lecture someone when they're having a hangover. He rolls his eyes before checking his phone and looking back at me again. Probably texting Elizabeth, because of course he can't live one second without knowing whether or not she's blinked.
"Just get dressed and meet me in the car. We'll pick up some breakfast along the way or something." He says.
"Yeah whatever."
He nods his head, before turning around and walking out of the room, closing the door behind him.
I glance at my alarm clock and yawn before lazily rolling myself out of bed.
How did I even get to my room? Last time I checked, I was in the kitchen. But that's just what happens whenever I drink a crap load of that shit. I pretty much forget everything, except a few pointless memories that don't really help my sanity.
All I can remember is the floor and a wet towel.
Yeah, sometimes my sub conscious can be a prick.
I walk up to my drawers and I pull out a white t shirt, my dark jeans, and my white converse. I feel terrible right now and I would love to take a shower, but by Niall's tone, I think he'll kill me if I take too long, so I'll just have to wait till after.
The sight of my room is quite disgusting. It has never really gotten this bad, but people do say that the cleanliness of your space reflects how you feel , and well....I don't feel like a nicely made bed or a vacuumed floor, so fuck it.
I can't help but squint as the light from outside practically blinds me. I really need to seriously get curtains or something. My head is throbbing immensely and the glow is not really helping. I saunter myself up to the frame next to it, cupping my eyes as I stare at the picture within it. Even though I feel light headed as hell, I still won't stop myself from looking at this picture. Like a complete dumb ass, I almost tore it when I went on a drunk rampage and broke the glass of the frame from before. I found out she escaped and well... I went crazy.
I don't know what I would've done if anything happened to that drawing. Her drawing. It's like a tradition or something for her to watch the sunrise each morning, but for me, it's this drawing. I have to see it every morning, every day or it will just feel as if the day didn't count. As if the day wasn't real, because nothing is really real to me. Well nothing except this piece of paper with the image of myself and her. She's the most realistic yet most fictional thing in this entire world. And I don't know how that can fucking be.
I shake my thoughts that are just causing more discomfort to my head, and I walk out of my room to head to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
...
Since I sprayed on some cologne, I don't smell as horrible anymore. I walk back to my room, grabbing my wallet, phone, and my black sunglasses since today I really detest sunlight, and I quickly scurry to the front of the house.
I thought my room looked like shit, but man, the rest of the house really beats it. Did I do this?
I glance down at my hands to see some cuts on the knuckles of my fingers and even on the pads of them. I form them into fists and I close my eyes for a second. Why do I have to fuck up everything?
I have to clean up everything when I get back to make it up to Niall. He must of thought there was a hurricane or something when he got home.
At the sudden sound of slight snoring, my eyes open abruptly. I quickly walk to the living area where the familiar noise is coming from and I soon feel my fists un clench. She's there...sleeping peacefully on one of the couches, her hands desperately clinging to the blanket that is threatening to fall, pieces of her hair falling over her eyes, and her lips slightly parted.
Why is she here?
I walk silently up to her, not wanting to wake her. She shivers a little, and I quickly place the blanket back to her, her body calming almost automatically.
I bend down to her level and I observe her a little better. She looks so tranquil and beautiful.
I feel my right hand rise to my left arm, pinching it slightly. Of course she's actually there dumb ass.
My hand then moves to her face and I pull the hair out from her eyes like she always does to me. Such a simple gesture, yet no one has ever done that to me before.
Man why the fuck is she sleeping on the couch and not her bed?
Before I can even think any further, I find myself lifting her body up into my arms, the blanket still covering her. Her head rests on my chest and a small smile appears on her lips.
"Super dad." she mumbles.
Oh shit did I wake her?
I stop in place, hoping she'll fall back to sleep and smile as I hear her snore again. She's cute when she snores. And what the fuck is a super dad?
I slightly chuckle at her sleep talk and I hold her tighter in my embrace, wanting to keep her warm.
I hear Niall hocking from outside and if he doesn't stop soon, I will literally duck tape his hands to his ass.
Once I get to her room, I place her delicately under the covers, which she quickly adjusts to. I swear to god, if Niall ever let's her sleep on the fucking couch again I-
"Harry."
I feel my heart stop and I direct my gaze to her. She holds one of the pillows tight in her arms, and I never have wished so badly to be an inanimate object in my life, until now.
She sometimes talks in her sleep, and I always find it interesting. Like that night in the backyard, she just whispered the word "green" out of nowhere and even though I didn't and still have no idea what she was dreaming about that had to do with green in any way, I wanted her to keep on talking. Her words always seem to amaze me for some reason and I don't think I will ever think otherwise.
I bend down to her level and I close my eyes as I place my lips against her forehead.
"I'm sorry Jane." I whisper before finally walking out and heading to my car outside with the impatient blonde.
It was as if all the pain went away when I was simply holding her, or maybe I just forgot about it, but now it has returned as I put on my glasses.
"You drive." I state as I order Niall to get out of the passenger seat.
He obliges and quickly goes to the other side.
As he starts off the car, I lean my whole body against the cushioned leather seat and I turn my head to face him.
"Why the hell did you allow her to sleep on the couch?" I question, not being able to emphasize all the anger I obtain due to the pounding in my head.
He begins to drive out of the driveway and I don't even dare to look out the window at the moving atmosphere surrounding us, I'm already dizzy enough.
"I offered her many times to just sleep in the guest room, but she kept on refusing. She said that she was unsure if you would be comfortable with her staying in there."
Shit.
I guess I'm a better actor than I thought. But I still wish she would have slept in there...She should always feel comfortable around me.
"What happened last night... Why is she here?" I question, closing my eyes shut as I await his answer.
"You got drunk Harry...again. You broke the vase Zayn's mom bought for me and threw a ton of crap all over the floor. And I don't know why she came. I just showed up at the house and she was there. She seemed a bit tense..."
I feel my stomach clench at his words. The disappointment in his voice is evident, practically eating me alive.
"Did anything else happen?"
He takes a deep breath as he turns into a lane.
"Well you practically fell like twice and you couldn't hold down any food."
I feel my eyes open wide and my face begin to heat.
"Did I..."
"Yeah you did. You barfed."
I place my hand on my face, trying to conceal myself as I wish to disappear at this exact fucking moment. And I can practically feel the stupid smile on his face.
"Geez lighten up lad. She wasn't repulsed or anything. She was actually quite worried. You should really clear things up with her after rehearsal. And by clear up I mean talking to her. Don't barf on her shoes again."
I sink into my seat even more and I feel myself groan.
Fuck everything.
I hear him begin to laugh loudly, annoying the hell out of me.
"I was just kidding about that part. But you did really puke a lot."
I lift my glasses up slightly so he can see how I'm not in the playing mood, but all he does is just laugh even more as we pull into the Mc Donald's drive thru for breakfast, causing me to roll my eyes and fight back my own laughter.
Jane's POV
I woke up in that recognizable gigantic bed, and I instantly felt confused. My sub conscious kept on teasing me by telling me how Harry possibly carried me, but then again...he most likely hates me.
My dad used to tell me how when I was little I would sometimes sleep walk, so I guess the habit is back. I really hope he didn't notice and get pissed off.
They're both gone and I'm just in this empty hollow house all by myself. Last night was really... something. Harry said some things to me, and I don't really know what to think about them. The words seemed so natural coming out of his mouth, but also he was drunk. And I just know that he must feel super bad today. He even threw up last night, and I'm just praying that he will recover. Even though the cause of his un wellness was alcohol, I still don't like seeing him under the weather.
I just finished drinking a cup of orange juice, since I would feel guilty eating any of their food. I know they always tell me that I'm welcome to eat anything, but I pretty much forced myself to sleepover, and I already feel embarrassed enough.
I clean my cup and I dry it before placing it back in the pantry.
Since my sketch book is at Katherine's, I am really unsure of what to do...wait. Katherine. Dang!
I practically sprint to the phone, dialing her number as fast as I can.
"Hello?"
"Kat!"
"Jane! How is it going?"
"Fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I slept over."
I hear her small chuckle through the line.
"Don't worry Jane. I suspected that, that would be happening."
I feel my cheeks heat up almost instantly. She knows me too well.
"So how'd it go? Did you get your answer?"
"No."
"What? Why?"
"Um he didn't come home till very late. You know had interviews and stuff."
What am I supposed to say? Oh he was drunk and could hardly form words.
No.
I know Katherine can tell that I'm lying because like I said before...she knows me too well.
"Oh. Well when you are ready to leave or if you need anything, call me. Stay safe okay?"
I smile a little at her concern. It's comforting to know that at least one person cares for me.
"Thank you Katherine. Will do. I hope you have a splendid morning."
"You too. And remember Jane, you have a voice. If he uses his, remember that you have your own as well."
I don't really know what she means by that, but I just agree.
"Okay. Will do. See you later Kat."
"Bye."
I hang up the phone and I place it back in its place, beginning to fiddle with my fingers.
My feet begin to roam the house for me, my mind following behind and I really am not sure of what to do until they return.
I walk into the living area at the front of the house and I notice how the room is still a mess. Niall cleaned up the glass yesterday, but was much too exhausted to continue.
I bite my bottom lip. Maybe I should help out. Besides, I have nothing else to do anyway.
...
The pillows are now fluffed and perfectly placed back on the couch, the floor nicely vacuumed and swept, the room dusted, and all the crumpled up paper and cans in the garbage. My fingers hurt a little, but just barely.
I'm proud of myself and I really hope that neither Niall and Harry mind.
I clap my hands together as my eyes roam the room.
Damn. What if Harry gets mad? What if he's one of those people that like their house dirty or something...but then again, it's not only his house. It also belongs to Niall.
Yeah. It's fine.
I place the vacuum and duster back in its place before walking myself to the guest room again, sauntering into the bathroom.
I wash my hands and begin to stare myself in the mirror.
"Harry, I need to speak with you about-"
No too forward.
"Hi. Um Harry, may I speak with you about the kiss an-"
No, not confident enough.
I place my hands through my hair and I take a deep breath.
"Harry. We need to talk. You know about the night where our lips touched an-"
I feel myself roll my eyes before closing them.
God, I'm going to mess this up aren't I?
All I want is for him to confront me about it first. To tell me that he regrets nothing and that he loves me and I would say I love you back. He would smile, the kind of smile where his dimples would really pop out like the way they do, when he's really genuinely happy.
But I know that, that would never happen, because he is Harry and I'm Jane. I love him and he doesn't love me, for who would ever love someone as small as myself.
...
I decided to eat an apple, because I grew really hungry and couldn't help it. I made a mental note to buy them another one as soon as possible.
I just walked around the house in circles for about an hour, watched the sky from the balcony for another thirty minutes, and roamed around the backyard, another twenty. I have completely given up hope that they'll even return, so I eventually decided to go to the white room.
My body is lied on the floor, my arms and legs both wide open as if I'm making a snow angel with Rose and her mom.
My eyes are shut tight as I try to concentrate on the scene that is playing in my mind.
I'm making a snow man with Rose in front of a small cabin looking house. She's smiling wide as I wrap my own scarf around our snow creation which she named Peter.
"Do you think Peter will melt?" she questions with her little voice.
I glance at her and give her a reassuring smile.
"Nah. Not anytime soon at least. It's less than negative ten degrees outside."
She giggles, me joining her soon after.
"Do you think Peter has a family?" She asks.
I walk up to her, raising an eyebrow.
"Well I mean we made him, so we're his family."
She shakes her head, her smile faltering.
"No I mean do you think he has a wife and kids?"
"Well I mean-"
"Do you think his wife was a prostitute?"
"Wha-"
"Do you think she'll leave him and his daughter for money?"
I begin to step back, my mouth feeling dry and my heart stopping.
"Do you think they'll end up homeless and that he'll eventually leave her too. His daughter?"
"R-Rose stop. Please."
She walks up to me, her eyes never blinking and never leaving mine.
"Do you think that his daughter will become a gold digging slut like her mother was? Well I mean like how you will be."
I begin to tremble in place, not knowing why this girl won't stop.
"Well do you?"
I feel my body bump into something and I quickly turn around to see Harry.
"Harry I-"
He looks down at me and gags.
"Ew get the fuck away from me. You disgusting pest." He states, stepping back away from me.
"Harry." I plead, trying to walk closer to him.
Two girls pop up at his sides, and I feel myself fall to the icy cold floor.
He kisses both of them, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.
"No one likes you Jane. No one cares." He states as he holds them closer to him.
I close my eyes and I place my hands over my eyes.
"Get out of my head! You're not actually here! Get out!" I scream.
"I don't love you Jane. Never have and never will. You're just a homeless girl that has panic attacks. You're pathetic." His voice echoes through my ear.
"Get out! Get out!" I croak.
"Well do you?" I hear Rose's voice enter my ears.
A mixture of Harry and her words begin to go through my brain.
"Do you?"
"No one likes you."
"Jane."
"Jane."
"Jane."
"Jane."
"STOP!" I scream.
I feel my eyes open and I quickly sit up. I'm in the white room. It was all a dream. Just a dream. I must have dozed off.
I place my hand on my fore head, to feel how it's drenched with sweat.
I got to get out of here. I can't do it. I can't be rejected again. I can't.
I quickly get up and I rush myself out of the white room and into the hall, running through the living area, and leading up to the front door.
As my hand reaches the door, my heart stops as I hear the door unlocking from outside.
"Jane."
I stand there frozen as Harry enters through the door. Glasses over his eyes as well as a blank expression.
I step back a little.
"Are you okay?" He questions as he walks up to me.
He takes off his glasses, revealing his emerald eyes that always make me nervous.
"Yeah. Um I'm fine."
He locks the door from behind him and comes walking in, holding a bag in his hand.
"W-where's Niall?" I question as I walk to the living area, sitting myself in one of the couches.
I know he's going to ask me about why I'm here and I seriously don't know how I'm going to respond.
He licks his lips as he walks up to me.
"Um he went back with the other to the hotel."
I nod and we just begin to stare at each other, both waiting for someone to speak.
He shakes his head and stares at the bag.
"Um here. I- um yeah." He says nervously as he hands me the bag, his eyes leaving mine for a brief second.
My heart is pounding in my chest and I don't really know what to think at this moment.
Inside the bag is a box. A shoe box?
"Harry um I-"
He coughs nervously.
"Um well I heard that something happened with yours and um just have them if you want."
I raise an eyebrow before I stare down at my feet. What? He doesn't like my shoes or something?
Harry's eyes dart to my shoes as well and he mutters a curse word under his breath.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
He looks up at me and rubs the back of his neck.
"Oh it was nothing. Well um I'm going to go to my ro- Did you clean?"
His eyes roam the area, filling with an emotion I can't decipher.
I place the shoes aside and I begin to twirl a piece of my hair around my finger.
"Oh yeah. I- um yes."
He just continues looking in silence, his eyes landing on the floor. He's thinking about something. Dang. He's probably pissed.
"Look I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have."
"Why are you apologizing?"
I look up to see how his gaze is on my own.
"I-I don't know." I whisper, not knowing how else to respond.
"Why are you here?" he questions.
I feel my chest beginning to rise, and my stomach beginning to turn.
"Well?" he adds as he walks closer to me.
I stare into his intense eyes, and I feel very intimidated. I couldn't even speak in front of a mirror. How am I going to speak to the real Harry?
I glance down at my lap and I shake my head.
"I wanted to speak with you."
I feel my chin being pointed up, causing my heart rate to quicken in pace. His interest in what I have to say alone is making me feel as if I'm about to half a heart attack right at this moment.
"About what?"
My lips can't seem to form words, making me feel the weakest I have ever felt in all of my being.
I stand up, so he won't tower me completely, causing his hand to leave my face.
He seems a little startled by my action, but I have to do what needs to be done.
"I'm confused Harry. You confuse me."
"What do you mean?"
I bite my bottom lip and I cross my arms together, so I seem tougher and more serious when in actuality I feel like I may collapse.
"Your feelings... You kissed me that night and then the next morning...you just ignored me..."
He steps a little closer to me, causing me to shrink in confidence.
"And?"
What? Is he serious?
"And? That's your answer? Well Harry 'and' I want to know what you feel. How you feel about me. About that kiss."
I feel my back beginning to slump slightly and I quickly align it once I notice. I can't show any sign of weakness. I feel like a gazelle trying to have a conversation with a starving lion.
"The kiss. It...It..."
He can't look at me for some reason and I feel my eyes beginning to water.
He hated it. He regretted it. He doesn't have the decency to tell me.
"My head is really hurting Jane. I'm going to go to my bed...You can show yourself out."
He turns around without another word and slowly heads to the hall way.
A tear releases itself and Katherine's advice begins to make sense to me.
'You too. And remember Jane, you have a voice. If he uses his, remember that you have your own as well.'
I quickly run up to Harry, grabbing his wrist and turning him around.
"Why can't you just say that you regret it? Huh?! Be a man for once and tell me the truth! Stop being a fucking coward and tell me!" I yell as more liquid falls down my cheeks.
He pulls his hand out of my hold and instead wraps his around mine.
"You know what? I don't have to fucking answer you all the time! Stop trying to tell me how I think and stop trying to get inside my head okay!? You don't know. You don't know anything!" He screams back, his voice filled with anger.
I step back a little but quickly recover as I move my face closer to his.
"You never answer me and that's the problem! I detest you Harry! I fucking loathe you!" I respond with all the anger and emotion I've been holding back for the past weeks.
"And what, you think I like you?! I hate you too Jane! With your fucking bright smile and pretty ass face that always has to fucking distract me all the time. And not to mention the fact that you never give me a break! You always keep on coming back! No matter what I do to you, you always have to fucking come back! And do you know how hard that is? How fucking difficult it is for me to have to ignore you when your voice is the only thing I want to hear!?"
I feel my whole body freeze at his words and I don't know what to do.
"I hate you." He whispers, as his own face calms, his eyes roaming my face and his hand moving from my wrist to my waist.
Both of our breaths are un even as both of our faces move closer to each other slowly.
His eyes close once his nose touches my own, his eye brows narrowed together in intense concentration, before he finally pulls me closer to him, our lips meeting.
He tastes of mint with a bit of sweetness, overpowering all my senses completely.
My hands go to his hair, my fingers tangling within them.
"I want to kiss you slow... I want to show you how much I hate you Jane." He mutters, his hot breath touching my face as he pulls away.
"Because I hate you. I truly do." He adds.
I just nod before I place my lips back on his, doing as he says, because I'm a mindless fool. A mindless fool for him and I think I will always be.

Notes