~Harry~

“Harry, dear!” Mrs. Jansen called out. I chuckled at her eagerness and climbed the steps to her home. She had opened her door the moment she’d seen me coming. I looked up at her; she wore a white blouse, green flower-print pants, and a light blue apron. Her gray hair was frazzled as it always was, and I couldn’t help but to love the little old woman.

I’d spent the entire day with my mates, and now, it was seven o’clock at night. Mrs. Jansen had invited me over for cookies, and I agreed. She’d told me that my friends could come as well, but I think they felt as if they’d be intruding, because they’d all politely declined.

“Well, come on, come on,” she urged, patting my back as I entered her house. I ducked down to give her a hug, “Good evening, Mrs. Jansen.”

“Good evening, darling,” she beamed at me, “James is watching television in the living room, as always,” she chuckled and continued, “And I’ve made cookies. Do you like chocolate chip? They’re Cassidy’s favourite.”

At the mention of the beautiful girl that I had come to accept I’d loved, my jaw muscles tensed. “Wait, you mean—?”

“Of course she’s coming over, silly!” Mrs. Jansen finished my sentence, giggling, and she slapped my arm lightly, “Whenever I make chocolate chip cookies I am sure to invite her. She adores them.”

I chuckled as Mrs. Jansen began hobbling away towards the kitchen. Shaking my head and smiling, I followed her, taking care to poke my head into the living room and say hello to Mr. Jansen, who was—as usual—sprawled out on his recliner, watching a baseball game with intensity.

“Harry, son,” he greeted me, standing up. He followed his wife into the kitchen and sat down at the table while Mrs. Jansen slipped on a pair of oven mitts and reached for the cookie tray.

“How are you?” Mr. Jansen questioned me. I nodded, lacing my fingers together, “I’m good.”

“How have the lessons with Cassidy been going?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

I chuckled lightly as Mrs. Jansen set down the tray of cookies and took off her oven mitts. She gestured to them, “Well, go on, dear. I’m sure they’re not that hot anymore. Just warm.” I reached forward, picking up a cookie and studying it. It was golden brown, with small chunks of chocolate peeking out from the dough.

Delicious.

I bit into it and closed my eyes, humming as I let the flaky, savoury taste take over. I opened my eyes and smiled up at Mrs. Jansen, swallowing before I spoke, “These are amazing.”
Mr. Jansen laughed, and reached forward, plucking a cookie from the tray and biting into one himself.

“Poppy makes the most amazing goodies,” he explained, “That reason alone is why I married her. Cassidy and I love them.”

“Oh, hush,” Mrs. Jansen slapped her husband’s arm, shooting him a mock-glare, before laughing and ducking down, pressing a feathery kiss to his cheek. A small smile found its way onto my face as I watched them.

Just then the doorbell rang. Mrs. Jansen exclaimed and clapped her hands excitedly, still wearing her baby blue apron.

“That’s her,” she gushed, and she spun around, hobbling off down the hall to answer the door.

“She really gets excited over Cassidy,” I noted, referring to how happy Mrs. Jansen was every time she saw my girlfriend.

Girlfriend. Holy fuck, that was weird to say.

“Yeah,” Mr. Jansen sighed lightly, running a hand through his gray hair. For the first time since I’d met him, he looked kind of pained, “She’s like our daughter. We love her.”

I nodded, popping the rest of my cookie into my mouth and picking up another one, taking a bite and nodding again in appreciation of how good it tasted. Seriously, I would have to get the recipe.

There was excited babble coming from the hall—no doubt Mrs. Jansen—and I turned to the doorway. The two women emerged from the hall, and I almost dropped my cookie.

Standing beside Mrs. Jansen, invested in an animated conversation with her, was Cassidy. She wore a gray crop top with long sleeves and a pair of ripped jean shorts. Her hair was tied in a messy bun atop her head, a few tendrils falling out and hanging near her temples, framing her face perfectly. Her feet were clad in white ankle socks, so I assumed that she’d worn her Converse here.

She threw her head back, laughing at something Mrs. Jansen had said, something I hadn’t bothered listening to, the beautiful girl in front of me grabbing all of my attention and leaving no space in my mind for anything else.

I loved her laugh. I loved her smile; her lips would curve up slightly in a small smirk before she blessed you with the sight. Her teeth were straight and white, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

“Why are you so beautiful?” I blurted out the last part. Immediately, three heads snapped to look at me.

Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit.

I’m a fucking idiot.

“Um,” Cassidy chewed on her lip and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. Her cheeks were slightly pink, and I could feel hot, boiling embarrassment creeping up my neck and my face too. Why had I said that? I doubted Mr. and Mrs. Jansen even knew what was going on here…this was so fucking awkward.

But when I looked over at Mrs. Jansen, she was beaming at us, her eyes flicking from me to Cassidy and then back again.

There was a moment of silence in which nobody said anything before she laughed, slapping Cassidy’s arm lightly and saying, “Cassidy, darling, he just gave you a compliment! Say thank you, at least!”

It was a time like this where I was grateful for the obliviousness of elderly people. Mr. Jansen just looked at me with a perplexed expression adorning his face, which I was grateful for. Mrs. Jansen was simply giggling like a little schoolgirl, making the situation even more inept than it had to be.

“Thank you,” Cassidy mumbled, looking down at the ground. Fuck, she probably hated me now for dropping hints to the Jansens. I looked down at the table, clutching my cookie so hard I was afraid I’d snap it and make a mess, crumbs everywhere.

“Hey,” a voice suddenly said, and I looked up. Cassidy wasn’t looking at me, but she was smiling at Mrs. Jansen, “He’s eating all my cookies!” she pretended to look offended, but that failed, because she simply laughed.

The Jansens looked relieved to be on another topic, but I couldn’t let it go. I set down my cookie and stood up from my chair, cringing as it squeaked against the kitchen floor. “Excuse me,” I mumbled, quickly making my way out of the room. I hurried down the hall, to the main entrance, knowing that three stupefied gazes were burning into my back.

Outside, it was raining. Large, fat drops of water pelted my head as I hurried across the muddy, squishy lawn, my ankle boots sinking deep into the ground, making me wince; fucking great. I quickly passed Cassidy’s house and sprinted the rest of the way to my house, hopping up the steps and jamming my key into the lock.

I was just about to disappear inside when I heard it. “Harry!”

I whipped around, only to find Cassidy walking down the lawn. She wasn’t rushing like I was which alarmed me, because I knew how much she hated storms. Granted, this wasn’t a storm, but I had a feeling that the thunder and lightning would kick in soon.

“Go back inside!” I yelled over the rain. She shook her head and made it over to my house, where she stood just outside of where the steps were, unshielded by the cover of my porch.

“No!” she shouted back, “You’re going to talk to me! I’m going to stay out here until you do!” she crossed her arms and glowered up at me. I felt like pulling out my hair; I didn’t want to talk at the moment, but I didn’t want her to stay uncovered, letting the rain soak her. She’d be so cold after, she’d probably get sick, and I knew how badly she must’ve wanted this, since she wouldn’t be standing outside in the middle of a downpour in any other case.

“Kane!” I bellowed at her, “Go back inside!”

“You can’t make me, Styles!”

“Cassidy!”

“Harry!” she kept on mimicking me, cocking an eyebrow. God, why was she so fucking stubborn? She really drove me insane.

I stared at her, waiting for her to give up and stomp back to the Jansens’ house, but she did no such thing. Instead she just stood there, arms folded over her chest, rain matting her hair to her head, one eyebrow cocked.

I knew that she was scared. But I couldn’t see it. She was an expert at putting up a brave front, a tough exterior that nobody could crack. Just when I thought I was getting somewhere with her she always seemed to switch things up and astound me. She was temperamental and stubborn, so unpredictable.

Just like a storm.

“Cassidy, for the last time—!”

“Fuck that!”

“Oh my God!” I yelled, pulling at my hair. My door was wide open, just begging me to step inside and leave her there, just to show her that I was serious, but I couldn’t let her give herself pneumonia.

I glared at her before shooting down the steps and wrapping my fingers around her wrists. She tried to yank her arms back but I crossed them over her body, pulling her up the steps and through the door. I slammed the door, immediately reducing the sound of the rain, and cursed.

“Let go of me!” she struggled against my grip but I just gritted my teeth. She was drenched, her hair dripping, the bun in her hair coming undone. Her crop top was matted down to her body, fitting against the curves of her breasts—I looked away quickly. Her skin—where I could see it: her legs, hands, neck, face—all shiny, soaked.

“Just calm down for a moment!” I shouted as she kept trying to free her wrists from my grasp.

She fell silent; her struggling subdued, and looked up at me, her eyes wide. I kicked off my boots and bent down, untying her wet Converse and sliding each sneaker off of her feet.
I have to admit: I had to resist kissing my way up her body. This was like a fantasy come true.

Not the fucking time, Harry.

“Come on,” I muttered, pushing any inappropriate thoughts out of my mind, and I grabbed her hand, pulling her upstairs.

She protested but I just gritted my teeth and tugged her along. I brought her into my room and dragged her into the attached washroom, plopping her down on the closed toilet. She sat down, crossing her arms over her body, while I rustled through a few cupboards under the sink. Finally I found a large drawer of extra towels and I pulled out a large, fluffy one. I spread it out and wrapped it around her, desperate to get her warm.

She was shivering, her teeth chattering slightly. I could see her trying to repress it, but it wouldn’t work on me. I knew when she was trying to hide something.

“You’re stupid,” I said, shaking my head as she gripped the towel tightly. I rubbed her back, crouching beside her, resting on my heels. She rolled her eyes.

“And y-you’re an ass,” she managed to get out. I chuckled, hating and loving her at the exact same time.

“Why are you so goddamn stubborn?” I wondered aloud, whispering the words. She stared at the floor, not meeting my gaze, her body quivering. God, she was freezing.

“I c-could say the s-same for y-you,” she retorted, still managing to be sassy even under the worst conditions that her body could be undergoing right now. I rolled my eyes, but smirked.

We sat there in silence, me rubbing her arms, her back, her legs, desperate to get her dry and warm her up. “You’ll never get warm if you stay in these clothes,” I muttered to myself, and then I stood, “Wait here.”

I turned on my heel, walking out of the washroom and into my bedroom. I hurriedly opened the top drawer of my dresser, grabbing anything I could get my hands on, and rushed back into the bathroom, handing her the clothing that was balled up in my fists.

“Here,” I said, “Take a shower and then put these on.”

She nodded, still trembling. My chest ached, and I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her skin was cold and tasted like acid rain. I retreated, stepping back, and asking, “You’ll be okay? I’m in my room if you need anything.”

She nodded and looked up at me, “T-thanks, Harry.”

I smiled at her and closed the door, walking over to my bed and collapsing on it. I buried my face in my pillow, and sighed as I heard fumbling coming from the bathroom, no doubt from Cassidy peeling her wet clothes off of her body and going to take a shower.

Wait…shower. Naked…

Stop, Harry.

Notes

Hope you liked it!

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Random fact: A donkey will sink in quicksand, but a mule (half donkey, half horse) will not.

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