This Song Is About You - A Harry Styles story

Rebecca is a teenage girl who can be quite shy and likes to live in her own little nutshell. What will happen when she's dragged on a boring holiday with her Dad?
Maybe it will prove to be quite the opposite of 'boring' when she bumps into the famous band and creates a bond like no other with one of the boys.


5. Scribbles

We continued walking and talking until dark. 

"Don't plan anything for next Friday night, I want to take you somewhere." Harry hushed with nerves. 
My mind drifted off in a wonderful world of imagination - where could he be taking me? Would my dad let me go? I didn't care.... I was going. 

I blushed a light scarlet and beamed a smile of pure excitement. "I'll be there." 

"We should probably get back, it's breezy and getting late. Won't your dad be wondering where you are?!" He asked.

Crap. My dad. 

"Yeah, can we turn around now?" I flushed a worried expression. 

Harry unzipped his hoodie and pulled it from his body, wrapping it around me from behind as I paced back towards the houses. I could feel the warm fleece against me and it smelled of him. My new favourite smell in the world.

 "Why don't you spend the night with me?" He swept his hands through his hair and shook his head, obviously trying not to make eye contact with me as I broke an expression full of surprise. 

"Oh yeah sure, my father would love that.. It'd really put me back in his good books." I laughed. 

"Are you always so sarcastic?" He replied smugly. 

I gazed up at his twinkling eyes and desperately wanted to agree. But there was no way I'd get away with it. At the same time, I couldn't tell if he was being serious or not.

"But, in all seriousness, if you don't want to go home - come back with me. No funny business, I promise." He smirked. 

I playfully hit his chest and then turned around to see we were standing outside my house. A feeling of disappointment swept over me. 

"You really don't know how much I want to Harry.. but I just can't." 

He understood, telling me to text him anytime I needed him. 

"Well, I guess I'll see you soon then?" I began marching my way up the wooden steps backwards - still keeping my eyes focused on his.

"Yeah, soon. Goodnight beautiful." He whispered.

I turned around and continued my way up the stairs with a smile from ear to ear. Nobody had ever called me "beautiful" before. It felt nice, especially coming from him. 

I gently knocked on the door and within seconds Kim opened it. 

"SHE'S BACK!" The scream was so loud I think half the population of America heard. 

Dad then appeared at the door and grabbed my wrist, forcefully grabbing me inside. 

He then threw me forward onto the floor. The shouting continued, along with a list of questions. 


I wasn't focused on anything apart from the fact that he was acting so violent towards me. I rubbed my wrist, feeling a sharp pain from where he had grabbed me and where I had fell down on it.

"Please, daddy, just stop shouting. Why are you being like this? Please stop," I whispered, my eyes welling up full of fresh tears. This is the how he had drove my mother away. He had anger issues - serious issues. 


"Don't you dare 'daddy' me. If I had the choice, you wouldn't be my child." 

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout. But nothing would come out. Nothing but tears. 

I pulled myself up and ran as fast as I could into my bedroom, a throbbing ache in my heart. 

There is no way I was going to stay in this place tonight, there was only one place I could go, Harry's. I wiped the tears from my blotchy cheeks and tried snapping the sadness out of me.  

I climbed silently from the balcony down onto the deck, trying to land gracefully without a thump. 

I then ran in the direction of Harry's place, where I noticed Zayn was outside on the phone. 

"Is Harry there?" I asked breathlessly. 

He kindly nodded and gestured towards the front door. I raced up the steps and tiptoed my way in the already-open front door. "Harry?" I murmured.

I glanced forward where I noticed two of the boys resting on the couch. "He's up in his room. Are you okay?" The Irish one asked. 

"I'm fine, I just need to speak with him. Can I go up?" He nodded with a caring and confused expression.

I wandered my way up the twirling oak stairs until I came to the landing. There were six doors, now all I had to do was figure out which one was his. Wow, this house was a lot bigger than the one I was staying in. It was surprisingly clean considering it was being shared by a house of five young guys.

I continued tip-toeing my way across the landing, until I heard his voice.

He was singing. His tone was soft and mellow, I couldn't quite figure out the lyrics from outside the door. I knocked twice, until he twisted the key and pulled the door open. 

"Oh, Becca," He muttered, surprised by the unexpected state of me and my arrival.

"What's happened?" He immediately wrapped both of his arms around me and pulled me into his room, closing the door behind me. He then gripped my head against his chest as I let the tears flow. He was again warm and strong - the rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing sound.

He scattered away the notebook and  pencil from his beside table  into a drawer and then lay on his sofa bed, gently sweeping me down beside him. "What were you writing?" I whispered curiously. 

"Scribbles. Tell me what happened?" Quickly getting off the subject.

 I explained everything that through my chocked tears. 

"You can't go back there, I won't let you. Don't worry, I'm here now." He rocked me against his chest and reassured me that everything was going to be okay. 

I had such a secure and comforting grip around me that I managed to fall asleep from all the crying. I finally found somewhere safe... Harry's arms.


I woke up the next morning and immediately scanned my eyes around the room for Harry. He was nowhere to be seen. I jumped up from the bed and caught a glimmer of my appearance in the mirror on the wall and rolled my eyes at the way I looked. I was a mess, no wonder he had left. 

My hair was frizzy and needed to be brushed, it was desperately in need of a wash. My face was still red and tired looking from the tears and I was standing in a dirty pair of denim shorts and oh, my new favourite hoodie - Harry's. 

He wasn't getting this back. I smiled to myself ignoring the way I looked and thought of the way Harry held me last night. I could get used to that.

"Becca?" He knocked on the door.

"Yes?" I smirked, seeing his fresh face appear in the room.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright." He reached out his hand to my waist and pulled me in for a cuddle. "Thank you for everything Harry." I sighed.

He then led me out of the bedroom and brought me downstairs where breakfast was laid out on the oval shaped marble island in the middle of the kitchen. "I hope you like pancakes!" 

I beamed a glow of utter happiness, completely in awe of him and everything he had done for me. There were even two roses in a clean, clear vase in the middle of all the food. 

I was seriously falling for him. 
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