Dahlia’s Point of View


“Are you okay, Dahlia?”

My thoughts are interrupted when Vince reenters the foyer, where I stand frozen in place.

“What?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” I simply state. Everything is wrong.

“Did Harry say something? Why did he come, anyway?”

“You should go.”

Vince looks at me confused, but eventually nods. “Yeah, of course… Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to talk about it? That might help…”

“No, Vince, but thank you. I just… I’m going through a lot right now and I feel like I’m leading you on. This,” I gesture between us, “can’t happen. I can’t be anything more to you than a friend.”

There’s a long pause of silence between us before he whispers, “It’s Harry, isn’t it? You’re in love with him.”

My breath hitches as my heart races. I shouldn’t be surprised he knows, but hearing him say it is like a slap in the face.

I love Harry Styles, and I’ve loved him for so long now. So what the hell am I doing spending the night with a guy I hardly know?

I slowly nod before repeating myself. “You should go. I’m sorry you had to take care of me, and if I led you on.”

“Dahlia, don’t worry about it. I get it. I’m bummed out, but it’s all right. You’re a cool girl, so let’s just stay friends.”

Sighing in relief, I mentally thank God for making this part easy. “I really appreciate it, Vince. Thank you,” I murmur as I hug him.

“I’m gonna head home then. I’ll see you around.”

I nod and thank him again.

“And Dahlia, whatever’s going on with you and Harry, go fix it—we can all see the spark between you two,” he grins.

“Then why did you try…” Why would he pursue me if he thought there was something going on with me and Harry?

“You can’t blame me,” he smiles. “You’re a beautiful woman, Dahlia, inside and out. If Harry wasn’t going to make a move, then it wasn’t fair for you to be off limits.”

I nod again, suddenly becoming speechless. “Goodbye, Dahlia.”

Once Vince leaves, I couldn’t even tell you what happens. One moment I’m changing into jeans and a sweater, the next I’m downstairs hopping in a cab, telling the driver the address to Harry’s office.

It only takes me 20 minutes to get to HES Records, go up to the floor where Harry’s office is, and find out from his secretary that he never came into work today. I’m back on the street hailing a cab and driving to Harry’s penthouse in less time.

Once and for all, I’m going to lay everything out on the table. What Harry and I have is undeniable. We are both complicating things, and I can’t keep living like this. I know why he has reservations about getting into anything, but it really is more unhealthy to keep denying this.

---

“Harry?” I call out into the silence of his apartment. Thankfully he gave me a key a couple weeks ago.

He doesn’t answer, so I invite myself completely in only to find his place looking like a tornado ran through it. Pillows and vases are knocked on the ground, the coffee table is flipped and a countless number of empty beer and whiskey bottles are strewn across the room.

“Harry,” I yell out again, but still, no answer. I search each room before finding him sitting on a lounge chair on his balcony—with a bottle of whiskey pressed to his lips.

“Harry, what the hell are you doing?”

“Fuck, Lia, when did you get here?” he slurs, not even bothering to turn and acknowledge my presence.

“Just a minute ago. What happened to your apartment? Why are you drinking when it’s only—“ I check my phone for the time, “two in the afternoon?”

I had my ideas, but I didn’t wan to admit to myself that him assuming I slept with Vince has got him so worked up. Okay, maybe I do, but it also scares me.

“Why aren’t you?” He counters with a smirk before taking another long pull from the amber liquid. “Shouldn’t you be with Vince?”

His words are like a jab at my heart. This whole being apart from each other and only being friends is only doing more harm than not. We are both grown adults now, and this is obviously not how we should be handling this situation. Everything he said to me about being an honorable man came from good intentions, but who are we kidding? We’ll both go crazy if we deny this any longer.

“Harry, we didn’t sleep together. Well, he stayed the night, but we didn’t have sex.”

All he does is laugh. “Whatever.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. You know you’re the only one I want to sleep with. You’re the one I want to be with,” I admit quietly. Once he doesn’t respond, I reach for the bottle in his hands and pull it away from him. “No more drinking. Let’s go inside.”

“Give it back,” Harry demands.

“No, Harry. We’re not going to keep doing this. No more denying what is obviously going on between us, and no more drinking away your problems and fears. We’re going to go inside, take a nap and then talk about this once you’ve sobered up.”

That seems to shut him up for the meantime. He allows me to take his hand and lead him back inside where I take him to his bedroom.

Just as I turn on the light, Harry pushes me up against the wall, his face only centimeters from mine. His breath comes out hot against my cheek, smelling like his usual spearmint with whiskey mixed in.

“You don’t want me, Dahlia.”

I swallow noticeably, although I’m not frightened. I know he won’t hurt me… physically that is. This man is capable of hurting my heart more than anyone could ever.

“Let’s talk later,” I suggest. He’s drunk and I don’t want him to say anything stupid, hurting us both even more.

“No. What would Louis think? What would he think if you were sleeping with me? Huh? Are you sure you’re ready for that? Because once you’re mine, Lia, you’re mine. No one else's.”

“Harry…”

“I’ve waited ten fucking years, Lia. Ten years for my turn, and if you’re telling me it’s finally time, then you need to know what comes with that. The press will be all over us, the paps won’t leave us alone, everyone’s going to think we’ve been having an affair… Everyone will ask questions. Can you handle that?”

“Please, can we talk about this later,” I plead. He’s absolutely right, I guess I just haven’t taken the time to think about all of that.

Harry’s eyes bore into mine intensely, making my heart rate spike and my breathing increase. I plead with my own eyes, silently asking for him to let go of me and drop the subject until he isn’t drunk.

He squeezes my wrist, earning a quiet whimper from me. The sound causes his eyes to soften. Harry presses his lips to my forehead before lowering his mouth to my ear. “I just need to know you won’t change your mind. If you’re really sure that this is what you want, then I’m not letting you go. Not this time.” His voice is suddenly calm, yet desperate.

He releases my wrists, and my hands immediately go to his hair while his grip lightly onto my waist. “I’m not going anywhere. Let’s go lay down.”

Notes

Sorry this is kind of short, but I'll update again when this story gets 125 votes! You can do it people!

Please comment, rate and subscribe!