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Surprising Harry, the kisses shared with Kit stopped after just the one. She let him keep his arms around her, and she purposely sought out his hand to hold, but despite her shy affections, he had a sinking feeling she was regretting kissing him. If he took a step back and removed himself from the situation, he could understand why, but barely. He understood the moral battle she was fighting, but given the two opponents, it shouldn’t have been such a difficult side to pick.

The party left the lounge not long after Harry and Kit’s patio kiss. He made sure to keep his hand tightly in hers on the walk back to Gemma’s house, though keeping a furtive eye out for paparazzi. He adored Kit and would shout it from the rooftops, show her off to anyone and everyone, but until she handled her situation with Kevin, even just holding her hand was risky. Not that he was going to stop; he just had to hope no one saw.

“Bye, guys,” Harry waved out the car window, bidding farewell to his sister and Noah. Kit followed suit, mimicking Harry’s wave and nodding in agreement when Gemma shouted for Kit to text her. As they pulled away, Harry’s hand found Kit’s again, though they both remained quiet. The elephant in the room was widely apparent, but neither knew how to bring it up.

Subconsciously, Kit squeezed Harry’s hand, wishing there was two of her. One of her could be with Harry and suffer the inevitable heartbreak when he realised he was better than her. The other could stay with Kevin and while still dealing with a broken heart, wouldn’t be alone. It wouldn’t be ideal, but nothing about this was ideal.

The drive to Kit’s home was painfully quiet. After what felt like hours, Harry pulled alongside the curb outside Kit’s apartment building, letting go of her hand for just a moment to nudge the car into park. Gripping it again, he pulled Kit’s hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles, keeping his gaze fused with hers. He let out a quiet sigh, squeezing her fingers.

“So... what happens now?” he asked her, resting his free arm on the centre console and eyeing Kit expectantly.

She matched his sigh, knowing the question was expected and warranted – though it did not make it any easier to answer. “What do you mean?” she asked instead, breaking his gaze and looking down at their linked hands. She absentmindedly rubbed her thumb against his index finger ring, exhaling again. It was a cop-out, she knew, answering his obvious question with her own question. He deserved so much better than her.

For a smart girl, Kit was an expert at playing dumb. Harry scoffed softly, knowing she knew exactly what he was asking. “I mean... you and me. What now?” he tried again, ducking his head in an attempt to look into her eyes. His stomach knotted; she seemed so unsure now.

Kit felt his gaze on her but she couldn’t look up. She couldn’t watch his eyes while she tried to tell him why they couldn’t be together. It was too painful. “I don't know,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

Harry let out a loud, exasperated sigh, letting the exhale to hang in the quiet air for a moment. “Are you fucking serious?” he demanded suddenly, his palm slamming against the console in frustration, causing Kit to jump. “You ask me to kiss you, and then you're just... I don't know about it?”

Despite being startled by Harry’s outburst, Kit’s head remained down, her voice nearly inaudible. “You asked to kiss me first,” she reminded him, her mind flashing back to New Year’s Eve and their moment in the kitchen. It was a moment she still replayed in her mind nearly nightly; the only thing that may push the New Year’s Eve memory from her mind would be their first kiss tonight.

“I'm not getting into semantics with you, Kit!” Harry exclaimed, not intending to yell at Kit but his frustrations over the situation mounting by the minute. “Whoever asked who doesn't matter. We both asked!”

“It's not as simple as that...” Kit began, her quiet tone a vast contrast from Harry’s shouts. She tried to find the words to explain her feelings and fears to Harry, but rather, he cut her off.

“It is as simple as that!” Harry shouted. “You can't tell me you didn't feel what I did, because I know you did.”

Kit hesitantly looked up at Harry, her sad eyes meeting his. “Of course I did,” she answered; surprised he didn’t think she could feel what he felt. “How could I not?”

Harry’s expression softened seeing Kit’s sadness in her eyes. While the supposed affair they were in the middle of was far from easy on him, it was clear it wasn’t easy on her, either. He sighed again, gently rubbing his thumb against her palm. “So… what?” he asked her again, pleading with her to tell him what he wanted to hear.

Kit let go of Harry’s hand. “I have to go...” she told him, quickly pushing the passenger door open and jumping out of the car. She knew it wasn’t fair to Harry to leave all of his questions unanswered, but she couldn’t give him the answers he so desperately needed when she didn’t even know them.

Harry groaned loudly as Kit jumped out of the car, and he hopped out, hot on her heels. “Whoa, whoa, whoa… not so fast,” he demanded, meeting Kit at the bottom of the stairs and grabbing her by the arm, forcing her to turn and look at him. She kept her head down, but he grasped her by the chin, lifting her head. “If he's the one you want to be with, fine,” he told her, feeling as though he was forcing the horrible words through a steel door. It wasn’t fine, it was far from fine. “I'll be your friend and I'll try my damnedest to get rid of these feelings for you… if that's what you really want. I don't think it is but if you tell me it is...”

Kit frowned at Harry, shaking her head out of his clutches. “You know it's not,” she told him.

“How do I know? You've done nothing but give me fucking whiplash these last couple months!” Harry exclaimed, acutely aware that he should keep his voice down on the public street. “I thought maybe you were leading me to something but maybe... maybe you are just leading me on and I'm just a fucking schmuck.”

Kit’s jaw dropped at his words. “I can't believe you really think that,” she told him incredulously. She knew her words and actions didn’t always mesh, but surely Harry knew she wasn’t intentionally leading him on. Whatever was happening with them wasn’t supposed to happen, and she was trying as hard as she could to make sense of it all. Though, looking at her actions though Harry’s eyes, she could see how she could be construed as incredibly selfish.

Harry threw his arms up, exasperated. “What the fuck else am I supposed to think?!” he asked her, the volume of his voice dropping slightly but a cutting edge in his tone. “You... I mean, we talk all the time… We… I can’t keep my hands off you, and you seem to be the same. And then we kiss, and you know it was incredible. But then you still want to be with that asshole boyfriend, and you don’t want to be with me and… Fuck, maybe this sounds conceited but I don’t know why the fuck you don’t.”

“Of course I want to be with you,” Kit answered, sighing as she flopped onto the cold step, wrapping her arms around her knees. “But you...”

“But I what?” Harry urged, sitting next to Kit, resting his hand reassuringly against her elbow.

“You don't really want to be with me,” Kit whispered, resting her head on her folded arms. She hated herself for getting in too deep with Harry.

Harry scoffed loudly. Was she really so daft? “Really?” he asked skeptically, running his hand through her hair, his fingers grazing her cheek. “Cause… I'm pretty fucking sure I do.”

Kit shook her head quickly. “You don't,” she insisted to him. Why couldn’t he just believe her? “You won't want to be. I'm weird and annoying and gangly and ugly and – “ Her voice became pitchy as she felt herself on the brink of tears, quickly blinking them away. She was the reason they were both in this mess; she had no right to cry.

Harry reached out and took Kit’s hand. His heart broke at the awful words she spoke about herself. He was baffled how someone so incredible could see themselves in such a negative light. He wanted to punch every single person who ever made Kit feel like less than the wonderful person she was. “You're fucking perfect,” he interrupted her, gently tugging her to look at him. He wanted to cry when he saw the tears in her eyes. “Oh, Kit-Kat…” he murmured, pushing her hair out of her eyes. He ran his thumb over her lips before gently pressing a soft kiss against them. “Just... be with me…” he pleaded quietly.

Kit let her forehead rest against Harry’s, feeling a single tear trickle down her cheek. “I'm scared,” she confessed to him, squeezing her eyes shut regretfully.

Harry nudged another soft kiss against Kit’s lips. He didn’t know why she was scared, but he didn’t ask. “I'm scared too, honey,” he admitted to her. His feelings for Kit were like something he’d never felt before. He didn’t know how to handle them, and he didn’t want to push her away. He immediately regretted shouting at her in the car and he pressed a kiss against her cheek as an apology, tasting the saltiness of her tears.

Kit sniffled as she drew in a shaky breath, her emotional tears falling more freely. “I don't want to be alone,” she told him.

Harry wrapped his arms around Kit, holding her as close to him as he could, but it still didn’t feel close enough. He wanted nothing more than to make her tears disappear, to make her fears vanish and to show her how amazing she really was. “Sweetheart… I’m telling you I want to be with you…” Harry mumbled into her hair. “You won’t be alone.”

Kit looked up, locking eyes with Harry. “Promise?” she asked him.

“Promise.”

~*~*~*~

Sunday, February 16, 2017

When Kit woke up on Sunday morning, her first thought of the day was Harry. This wasn’t unusual, as she usually woke up with thoughts of his handsome smile in her mind, but as her hand lazily drifted to her mouth, lightly touching where his lips had been just hours before, she knew things were different. She realised that, for the first time since December, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to break up with Kevin. And, she was terrified.

Everything about changing her relationship status was nerve-wracking. Kit didn’t want to be alone; she didn’t want to deal with the impending confrontation. But she also knew she had come to the point where she had to choose between Kevin and Harry, and she chose Harry. She only hoped he was sincere when he told her she wouldn’t be alone.

She rolled over, grabbing her phone from the nightstand. She smiled softly when she saw a good morning text from Harry. He was so kind, so sweet – she had no idea what he saw in her. She was about to text him back when another text came through, this time from Kevin.

hpe u had fun with ur friends call me wen ur up I dnt want 2 wake u.

Kit frowned at the message. There was a touch of sensitivity behind the message; Kevin normally wouldn’t care if he woke Kit up, or if she had fun with her friends. Her stomach flip-flopped – she wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. Though she knew she wanted to break up with him over the phone, she couldn’t do it yet. Instead, knowing Kevin had read receipts on, she called him.

“Hey…” he answered after a couple of rings, his voice sounding tired and defeated.

“Hi… are… is everything okay?” asked Kit, his gravelly voice concerning Kit. Remembering suddenly that his mother had fallen ill, Kit sat up straight. Her stomach tightened, and she just knew his sensitive text and despondent tone had something to do with Cynthia. “Kev...?” she tried again, urging him on when he didn’t reply.

He let out a sigh, the exhale shaky with emotions. “Mom’s… sick…” he forced out, his voice cracking. Kit didn’t think she’d ever heard Kevin sound so vulnerable and suddenly, she wanted to hug him, the thought surprising her. “She’s, uhm… she was all fucked up yesterday. Didn’t even know… me…” Kit heard Kevin sniffle through the line. “She’s dying, Kit…”

Kit felt a lump in her throat and pressed her palm against her forehead. Kit realised Cynthia wasn’t healthy during their last visit, but she didn’t realise she was actually dying. “Oh… Kevin…” Kit breathed out, unsure what to say. She didn’t think there was anything she could say. “I’m… I’m so sorry…” she added, hoping it sounded as comforting as it was intended to be.

Kevin didn’t speak, but Kit could hear sounds through the phone. He was crying. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Can… can you come out here?” he asked her, his voice pitchy as he pleaded. “I need you.”

Months ago, Kit would have given anything to have Kevin tell her he needed her. All she ever wanted from him was to let her in, and to show emotion and vulnerability. Now, he finally was, and all Kit could think about was breaking up with him – which, she realised, would now have to wait. It was bad enough she was cheating on him; she couldn’t end things while his mother was dying.

“I can,” Kit told him, supressing a sigh as she one again had to don the hat of Kevin’s girlfriend. “Of course.”

~*~*~*~

Harry was worried. After sharing sweet kisses with Kit on her front stoop, he didn’t expect her to ignore him – quite the opposite, if he was honest with himself. But the multiple texts he’d sent her throughout the day had gone unanswered and while he didn’t want to be bothersome, he needed to know she was still in the same mindset as the night before.

As the sun began to set over London, Harry stretched his legs out across the sofa, staring at Kit’s profile on his phone. He wasn’t sure why he felt so jumpy at the thought of calling her. Sighing with frustration at himself, he pressed the button, connecting to her number.

The sudden vibration from the phone tucked deep in Kit’s pocket startled her, but she didn’t move. Instead, she kept her eyes on the sleeping woman in the bed beside her, her slight frame causing the single hospital bed to look massive. Quietly, methodically, Kit dragged a brush through Cynthia’s brittle hair, the chocolate brown peppered with grey streaks. She knew exactly who was calling her – the same person who’d been texting her all day, the same person she’d been avoiding all day.

Kit wasn’t intentionally ignoring Harry – she wanted to talk to him more than anything. But while yesterday, she played the part of Harry’s could-be girlfriend, today she had to accept the role of Kevin’s girlfriend and dutiful daughter-in-law. She tried not to think about how she enjoyed the past role much more than the current, focusing on pleating a braid in Cynthia’s hair instead. The quiet room made it nearly impossible to think about anything but Harry and Kevin, but she was giving it her best try.

“She okay?”

Kit looked up at the sound of Kevin’s timid voice. He hovered in the doorway of the hospital room, clearly having difficulties seeing his mother in such a delicate state. He’d spent most of his time in the waiting room with his father, calling family members and pacing the hallways. Despite his comment about Kit tiring Cynthia out, Kevin asked her to sit with his mother. Kit obliged, knowing Kevin couldn’t.

“Yeah,” Kit answered, keeping her voice low. “She’s just sleeping,” she added, seeing Cynthia’s eyelids flutter. She would wake up periodically, muddle through a conversation before falling asleep again, usually mid-sentence. Kit knew she couldn’t begin to understand the pain Kevin must be feeling, seeing his mother near the end, but she wished he would sit with her. Cynthia didn’t deserve to have her final moments spent with a girl she’d known for just a few months, a girl who was cheating on her son, a girl who was ready to stomp on his heart as soon as it was ripped out.

“Do you… want to come in?” Kit asked Kevin, hoping her tone was light enough so as to not scare him off. “I need to use the toilet… maybe get a tea or something. And you… I can get you a sandwich? Have you eaten? Has your dad?” she questioned, her caring questions taking her by surprise.

Kevin took a hesitant step towards the bed, his eyes on his mother’s hand as she reached out, touching Kit’s hand gently. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at Kit, weakly squeezing her hand.

“Thank you,” Cynthia told Kit, her voice raspy but at the same time, soft. Kit gave her a smile, but the guilt building inside of her was unbearable. Cynthia turned her head, focusing on Kevin. “Come sit, my beautiful boy…” Cynthia cooed, lifting her hand in a slow gesture.

Kevin’s face crumpled at his mother’s words. His head dropped and he hesitated for a moment before bursting into the room, throwing his 6’3” frame against Cynthia. Kit saw her wince, but Cynthia didn’t say anything. Rather, she held Kevin’s head against her shoulder and combed her fingers through his hair, softly whispering comforting words for only him.

Kit stood up, feeling uncomfortably intrusive as she watched the moment between the mother and her son. As her phone vibrated again, she knew it was Harry, and she didn’t think she could feel any more ashamed. The unsurmountable amount of guilt combined with the sickly hospital smell made Kit feel lightheaded and nauseous. She needed out.

Quietly ducking out of the room, Kit darted down the hall, feverishly pressing on the elevator button. The door was hardly open when she squeezed inside, forgetting all about elevator etiquette. Luckily, the elevator was empty, and after pressing the button for the main floor, she gripped the cold railing and crouched, pressing her forehead to the chilled metal. She hated the thought that was racing through her mind, but it wouldn’t go away. Was this a sign?

Deep down, she knew it wasn’t. Signs weren’t real; and Cynthia had been sick long before Kit reconnected with Harry. Still, it was grossly ironic that the entire time she was sucking face with Harry Styles while she was supposed to be out with Hannah Stewart, her boyfriend’s mother was being admitted to the hospital to wait out her final days.

She let out a long sigh as she exited the hospital before inhaling the cool winter air. She walked along the sidewalk, hands stuck in her hoodie. She gripped her phone as she walked, knowing she had to phone Harry. He would understand though. He was far from a heartless person, and though he wanted Kit to end things with Kevin, he would hate if she did so while he was suffering so much.

Feeling reassured by her assumption, Kit settled onto a bench across from one of the parking lots, hoping to be far enough away from the main entrance to avoid any of Kevin’s family members. She sighed dejectedly when she saw two missed calls from Harry and one voicemail. Ignoring the voicemail, she connected to his number, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for him to pick up.

Harry had nearly fallen asleep on the couch, holding a pillow tight to his chest as he pitied himself. How stupid was he to catch feelings for Kit, to kiss her and tell her he wanted to be with her, when she clearly had no intention of being with him. He was angry with her for leading him on and making a fool out of him, but he was angrier with himself for falling for it.

When he saw she’d finally decided to appease him and return his call, Harry nearly ignored it. That’d show her, he thought bitterly. But as the phone continued to incessantly ring, he sighed. He knew he couldn’t ignore her. He rolled over, pressing the talk button and letting a few beats pass before uttering a surly “hello?”

“Hi…” Kit greeted slowly, Harry’s tone throwing her off. He never sounded grumpy when she called him. She bit her lip curiously. “Uhm… I’m sorry I missed your calls today…”

“Eh,” Harry grunted uncaringly. “Maybe one day, they’ll make a phone you can actually carry with you,” he added sarcastically, feeling a twinge of guilt at being short with Kit. She was the only person in the world who could make him so angry and yet so giddy at the same time.

Kit frowned deeply, her mouth opening and closing several times as she searched for a reply, replaying his words in her mind. “I… are you mad at me?” she asked him incredulously.

Harry scoffed. “Why would I be mad?” he asked, the sarcastic tone remaining constant in his voice. “I mean, just because you told me you’re going to break up with your boyfriend, and then ignore me all day? Nope, not mad at all…”

“Jesus Christ, you are,” Kit huffed, a disbelieving snicker finding her lips. “I’ve actually been at the hospital all day, with Kevin’s mom. She’s dying, Harry. Probably in the next couple of days. But yeah, totally be mad at me for not answering your stupid texts! That’s real mature…”

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Harry snapped reflexively, forgoing social etiquette and not extending his condolences to the family. He refused to admit it, but her calling his texts stupid hurt. “Would take two seconds to answer one of my stupid texts,” he sniffed, knowing he was being a careless brat.

“I said, his mom is dy-ing,” Kit snapped, drawing out the word for emphasis. “God! I can’t believe you’re actually pissed at me right now,” she added. This wasn’t her typical Harry. She was always the brat; not him. She’d never known him to be so cold. “What is wrong with you?!”

Harry exhaled loudly. “Look, I’m sorry,” he told Kit, his tone completely unapologetic. “I’m just fucking frustrated. I mean, after yesterday… and then nothing from you all day. What am I supposed to think?”

Kit sucked her lower lip between her teeth, copying Harry’s sigh. “What were you thinking?” she asked him.

Harry was quiet; not wanting to tell Kit his feelings, but knew he couldn’t expect her to share if he didn’t. “That you changed your mind,” he admitted. “And… you weren’t going to talk to Kevin…”

“That’s not going to happen,” Kit assured Harry, the thought of Cynthia’s illness being a sign finding its way back into her mind. She closed her eyes briefly, willing the thought away. “And, I will…”

“So… you haven’t yet?”

Kit was quiet, his question shocking her. “Well… of course not! Not today,” she added dubiously. How many times did she have to tell Harry that Kevin’s mother was dying before he would understand? “I can’t do that to him!”

Harry let out a humourless laugh. “Of course not,” he answered bitingly. “Can’t hurt Kevin! What about me, Kit? What about my feelings?” He wanted to punch himself. He knew he was overreacting and being disgustingly cruel. He hated Kevin, but he couldn’t imagine being in his shoes. Still, the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. He was so unbelievably angry at the situation, and how even by circumstances out of his control, Kevin found a way to keep Kit.

“Are you drunk right now?” asked Kit, her jaw dropping at his selfish complaints. She never thought she would see the day when she had to defend Kevin to Harry. “He’s up there, crying! Like, curled up in the shitty little hospital bed, holding his mom while she, like… fucking gasps for breath! I can’t break up with him right now! I can’t believe you still expect me to! Where the fuck is your heart, Harry?”

“I thought you had it, but… couldn’t prove it by me,” Harry snapped back, closing his eyes with disgust. Where the fuck was his heart?

Kit let out a shaky exhale. “You have to just… give me some fucking time…”

“I’ve given you time!”

“Give me more!” Kit demanded, shouting into the phone. “I can’t break up with someone while his mom is dying! Who fucking does that?”

“Yeah, this is your excuse today,” Harry shot back, wishing he could stop the word vomit from spewing from him. “What’s your excuse going to be tomorrow? Or next week? Next month? Fucking six months? Do you think I’m going to wait forever for you to get your shit together, Kit?” he asked, the words stunning himself.

Kit had never seen this side of Harry before, and it infuriated her. She thought Harry was as close to perfect as a human being could get, but he was quickly showing her that he was human… with a very ugly side. “This is all a sign,” she whispered, more to herself, but Harry heard her words through the phone.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Harry scoffed. “A sign of what? Call a fucking spade a spade, Kit! You want him, you don’t want me. You just want to keep both of us in your back pocket, use me when it’s convenient. I’m fucking done being your little side bitch,” he told her, realising that no matter what he did, what he said, Kevin would always come first.

“You’re fucking done?” Kit repeated, her voice cracking at his words. He couldn’t be done, not with her. Not after the moments they shared, their tender kisses, their auspicious future. Selfishly, she needed him in her life. “Really? Just like that?”

Harry shrugged, though she couldn’t see him. The last thing he wanted to do in the world was cut Kit out of his life. But he couldn’t be second string anymore. He couldn’t keep getting his hopes up with her, just to have them dashed because of some excuse she dreamed up. It was more than just Kevin’s mother being sick. He knew he would hate himself if Kit broke up with Kevin while his mother was dying. But it wasn’t going to end there – Kit would keep finding reasons why the two of them couldn’t be together. He knew she had her reservations, but he’d been led to believe it was because of her, not because of him. “One of us has to tap out,” he told her, struggling to sound nonchalant though his heart was breaking. “You’re not going to do it… so I will…”

There were so many things Kit wanted to say to Harry, but she couldn’t remember how to form a simple sentence. Her mind was racing, her heart was pounding and she was certain she would throw up. She’d led him on so strongly, he now believed the worst things about her. She’d wrecked it before it even began. She hated herself more than Harry hated her.

She drew in a shaky breath, letting it out in hyphenated puffs. Unable to convey the words she wanted to, she said the only thing she could. “Good-bye, Harry.

Notes