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flowerfeast444 · 11 months

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you were a house on fire || h.s {pt 5}*

harry styles x oc

chapter summary: Harry and Roe can’t help but let their thoughts wander when they are alone, leading them to meet again. (god i love this chapter fr)

word count: 2.8k

series masterlist

Roe was ten years old the first time she stole. Granted, it was a set of watercolor paints and a single, ragged brush from her elementary school, but still, she saw herself as a first-time thief. Her class just finished their painting unit in their art class, and while everyone except Ethan, her best friend, had their attention elsewhere, she slipped the supplies into her backpack. That was two weeks after the twins were born. Lucas found her stolen goods, barely eight at the time, and tried convincing her to return them because everybody knows that people who steal go to jail, and he couldn't have his big sister go to jail.

Of course, Roe promised Lucas she was safe, and it was okay for her to keep her paints. That, however, didn't stop her from hiding them whenever Blue Uniforms searched through the house. They always came with loud shouts and left with one or both of her parents. No. Her paints were safe. There was a spot between her dresser and the wall where the case could sit without falling to the ground. You only saw it if you knew it was there.

Roe woke up that Tuesday with a picture of it in her mind, still behind the dresser, collecting dust. It had been there since she was fourteen, and the Blue Uniform left with her dad like they had many times before. But unlike those other times, he didn't come waltzing back through the front door weeks or months later with a smirk on his lips and shake of his bald head. She left the case there, told herself she would bring it out again when her father's boots clunked around their house. Day after day, her hope dwindled until she forgot of its existence entirely- until now.

With a lull in clients at Keystone and today as her day off at the diner, what harm could she do by pulling the old dried up pigments from their hiding place? River was her only company at home, but she put him down for a nap only moments ago. So, Roe set up her paper, watercolor, and brush, and water in a cracked plastic cup that read "Pirates Cove!" on the kitchen table in the sunlight of midday. It was all there- her supplies, time, quietness, ambition to create, yet she couldn't think of anything to paint. No subject. No muse. At least, not one she desired admitting to.

Roe slouched into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. This was not how it was supposed to go. She wanted to paint a flower or some fruit. She wanted to be able to paint freely, without thoughts of a lingering lover plaguing her mind and ultimately restricting the feeling in her fingertips. It was as if she were actually there with her hands anchored around Roe's wrists.

Perhaps Roe was not meant to be an artist. She shook her head and blew a puff of air to send her bangs away from her eyes. She picked up her phone and dialed the only number she still knew by heart.

~~~

Harry's ringtone drew him from his warm afternoon nap. His body never knew which timezone to align itself with, and with no work for the unforeseen future, Harry found himself napping more than he did when he was a toddler. He wiped the crusted sleep out of the corners of his eyes and untangled his phone from the sheets near his left knee. "Niall Horan" lit up the screen in bold lettering under a picture of said man doing a handstand on top of one of their tour buses. Harry took that picture on their first tour and always admired it. By the time he was ready to answer the call, it was too late, sending Niall off.

Harry ran his hands over his face again. Certainly, Niall would have his ear for that one. Sure enough, seconds later, his phone rang again. "Hey," Harry answered, his voice heavy.

"Hey mate, you alright? You didn't answer, and you sound," he paused, "tired?"

"I'm fine. You woke me is all."

"Oh."

"Did you need something?" Harry loved talking with his best friend, but a much timider and hesitant voice had replaced the Irishman's typically quick and carefree one.

"No, no. Just checking in on you. Seeing how you're doing is all."

"I'm fine, Niall, really. Say what it is that you want to say, I know you have something," Harry huffed.

"I- all the boys, well really Liam and me, we want you to know that we're here for you and," he paused again. Harry thought he might've heard whispering on the other end, but perhaps he imagined it, "we know you're going through a tough time with everything- more than us for sure. Just- we're here if you want to talk."

Harry sighed as Niall continued his speech. Biding his time, he cast his gaze towards his window. A mourning dove landed on the fire escape and snatched a cockroach into his beak. The insect twisted its legs in an attempt to escape but soon gave up before the bird dove back down into the alley. Envy pinched his chest, but for which party, he did not know.

When Niall eventually stopped tripping over his words, Harry reassured him that he was fine and would call him in the case that he was not. They gave their goodbyes and hung up not long after. With no plans for the rest of the day, Harry allowed himself to fall back into slumber despite dinner hours approaching.

~~~

"I'm so glad you called, I needed this. And by the looks of it, you do too, babe," Sara shouted in Roe's ear over the thumping bass of a song she didn't recognize.

Roe tried her best to let everything go and allow the tequila to numb her throat. Secretly, she hoped it would numb everything above it as well, but so far the drink was failing on both fronts. She just went through the motions; take shots, dance, shout some song lyrics, repeat. These nights were rare, and they usually hit the reset button on her stress levels. It wasn't often she could let loose and not think about anything worrisome for a few hours.

But tonight, no matter what she did, she could only picture Ariel in the crowd next to her. Roe's heart twitched at every glimpse she caught of a brunette, and her chest burned because of it. She's not so sure she can blame it on the tequila.

Tequila, however, was to blame for her following actions. A simple 'hey' sat in the text box under Harry's contact for several moments, the blinking text cursor mocking her loneliness and indecision. She saved his number from work one night in case of emergency- whatever an emergency at an automobile shop would look like. She swore she wouldn't hit send, honestly, but a petite woman bumped into her shoulder and suddenly there's no way for it to be undone. She chewed her nails with a furrowed brow as the 'delivered' sign quickly turned into 'read' and three dots appeared underneath it before a reply came through.

'Who is this?' it read. Shit. This was a mistake.

'roe. sprry'

'Oh. Are you ok?' Roe looked up, sifting through her thoughts for a response.

A dancing couple caught her eye, distracting her from the task at hand. The woman nuzzled her nose in her partner's neck, swaying several beats too slowly for the song pumping through the speakers. The man didn't seem to mind, just swayed with her, arms resting naturally on her lower back. The rest of the dimly lit room meant nothing to them. The ceiling's strobe lights were shooting stars for all they cared.

Roe fleetingly wondered if she and Ariel ever looked like that. They never slow danced in the kitchen or stargazed together- "We're not a romcom, Roe," she would say. But, after long days of work and taking care of the kids, they laid atop each other on the scratchy living room couch, and Ariel hummed Something by The Beatles as she played with Roe's hair until they both drifted asleep.

Did it look like that? Natural?

The couple from before was now nowhere to be found and she worried about their mere existence at all. Rubbing a hand over her face, she responded to Harry, 'fine just drunk'. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she added, 'miss yu'.

This time, it took several minutes for a word back from Harry. Roe anxiously nursed a beer after deciding to take it easy on the tequila shots. The room spun, and she honestly needed to sit down, but she kept her eyes transfixed on her phone.

'Do you want to come over?'

With that, Roe made her way through the crowd towards Sara. It took a moment to locate her in the throng of bodies, but when she did, she made up an excuse of being tired and wanting to call it a night early. Sara understood because of course, she always does. Her kindness left Roe with a slight weightiness as she slipped her jean jacket on and stumbled to the train station a few blocks away.

Even in her state, Roe remembered the route to Harry's apartment. It wasn't a long journey from the bar, and soon enough, she knocked at his door. She barely had time to question her motives before it swung open to reveal Harry half-dressed. A pair of loose black sweatpants clung to his hips and a smug grin hung lazily from his lips. They spared but a moment as Roe stepped inside and dragged him closer by the drawstring of his pants, but despite their impatience, they first connected their lips leisurely.

"You taste like beer," he giggled.

"You," she traced her tongue down his neck and nipped at his collarbone, "smell like weed."

"Aren't we a pair?"

Roe kept her fingertips at his waistband, teasing gently as Harry guided them through the living room. Roe nearly pulled away, expecting to settle on the couch again, but Harry kept leading them down the hall. Every few steps, their footing fumbled, and they had to rely on the wall for stability. Harry's hand sank into her thigh at the bottom of her body-con skirt, and as the kiss grew heavier, the only thought running through Roe's mind was, take it off.

She would like to say they fell gracefully into the bed, but anyone in their right mind would know better. Roe's fingernails dug into the skin behind Harry's shoulder blade. She nearly apologized, but he let out a broken sigh and whispered, "again". Roe scratched again, this time dragging towards the sides of his ribs. They toyed like this for a few moments longer, reveling in each other's heat, rutting against each other. In the midst of this, her skirt had been pushed up to bunch around the thinner part of her waist, and Harry's sweatpants were nowhere to be found. Roe's jacket and tank top straps slipped from her shoulders, providing Harry the perfect opportunity to bite marks into her tanned skin. They rocked together, taking only what they needed from the other- perhaps an iota more. In the absence of speaking, their heavy breaths filled the room until Roe nearly felt the weight of it enclosing her every limb. By the time Harry's final moans subsided, Roe became hyperaware of the sweat beading on her forehead and the stickiness between her thighs. It made her nauseous.

They rolled away from each other slowly, disentangling limbs and the sheet that had become wedged between them. The bed had been slovenly before either of them fell into it; Roe could only imagine how badly the sheets needed to be washed now. She sighed and pushed herself from the bed, finding her clothes hurriedly. Harry stayed still and silent. Somehow after how close they had been only moments ago, they couldn't meet the gaze of the other. Roe wanted to ignore the panicked "shit" that fell from Harry's lips, but she couldn't. Weed paranoia would give a weak excuse for the tension in his face. Something was wrong.

"What is it?" A tall mirror rested against the wall beside Harry's dresser and Roe only took five seconds looking through it as she combed her bangs with her fingers to abandon it as a lost cause. She counted the lucky stars she hadn't worn makeup; if she had, there's no telling the kinds of looks she would get on the way home, and that's saying something. Here's to hoping the lame hour would allow her to stay somewhat anonymous. She gave herself one last once-over before casting her gaze to Harry, more than ready for his answer.

"Are you on the pill, by any chance?" he grimaced.

"Shit."

Roe allowed her face to fall into her hands for a moment. She quickly recovered, putting up a stone wall in her mind, and continued her mission of collecting her things. This time, her emotions were included.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," she replied sharper than she intended.

"I mean, all hope isn't lost, or whatever. I can give you money for a Plan-B or something. I very well can't go buy one, it'll end up in a magazine, and it'll probably be expensive for you." It sounded pretentious even before the sentence was fully formed. Even so, Roe merely shook her head and shoved her heels into her sneakers faster. "Fuck! I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean it like that."

"Doesn't matter if you meant it when we both know it's true."

"You could stay. We could figure something out?" It had been at least an hour since her last drink but she was still feeling the effects of it, and by the droop of his eyelids, Roe didn't trust Harry's sobriety either. The best thing for them was separating, Roe decided.

"Sorry. I just don't really do the whole morning thing. Plus, I've got to work tomorrow. Earn my own money."

"Ok," he clears his throat, "yeah, I get it. Sorry, again."

"It's fine," she demanded coolly.

Roe only looked back once as she left Harry's room. From their conversation, she half expected him to offer to walk her out. But, the telltale sound of a lighter clicking allowed her to take the final steps out the door with confidence. Her heart still beat quickly with adrenaline despite the quietness the Red Line provided her on her journey home. Winter showed no mercy, and by the time she stepped on the platform, her jean jacket barely provided any comfort. In some backward way, she was thankful for the sub-freezing temperatures. It kept her from overthinking the events of the night.

Roe unlocked her front door just shy of four in the morning. Despite her numb fingers and slight dizziness, she managed to go inside and kick off her sneakers without falling into a heap on the ground. Upon entering the living room, she noticed Lucas. He sat on the middle cushion of the couch, slouched so far down, she worried he would get a crick in his neck. A single lamp illuminated the left side of his face, but only just; they lost the original lampshade years ago and their mom replaced it with one from a thrift store that barely fit. So, the lamp now shone dimmer than ever, placed haphazardly on the floor in the far corner of the room (it was meant to be sitting on a table, but they never got around to buying one). All this to say, Roe could barely see Lucas, and yet, he looked worse than she felt.

"What are you doing up?" she asked.

"Could ask you the same thing. Aren't you supposed to be having a girl's night at Sarah's? You know you could've stayed over there, I've got the kids tomorrow."

"Yeah, no, I know"

"You look fucked up."

"Thanks." Roe smiled sarcastically.

"Did you ditch her?"

Roe busied herself by picking up the stray action figures littered on the ground near the stairs and shrugged; "Didn't feel like staying. Why does it matter?"

He shrugged and muttered, "Just kind of a shitty thing to do to a friend."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that it's none of your business then."

Lucas threw up his hands in defense of her icy words, and watched her collect the remaining toys on the floor. When she finished, she dumped them in a bin next to the couch and finally retreated to her room. She debated peeling off all of her clothes and scrubbing the night off in a hot shower, but one glance at her bed convinced her otherwise. Without any further ceremony, Roe flicked off the lights and let herself fall into a dreamless sleep.

#harry styles #hs #harry styles x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #the female experience of immediately getting icked out by a man after sex LMAO #or maybe i’m just gay #drunk texts

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