The Journey Of Love *Harry Styles Love*

Axle Winters has never been willing to love someone.
Never willing to trust someone with her heart.
But when she runs into a boy with sharp green eyes and curly brown hair, she forgets it all, and falls into the dream of Love.


6. Will Sweeny



What to do today…what to do…I think to myself, my feet hanging off the edge of the bed. Once harry explained to Anne, his mum, who I was they both just left the house for coffee.

I hear a door creak open downstairs, the front door to be exact, and I fling myself against the wall.

Who the fudge is in the house? It can’t be Harry and Anne, he just texted me saying they were still at the bakery.

“Harry?” A voice calls out, a male voice to be exact.

I keep silent, slowly moving off the bed, and reaching for a book to use against the burglar. Who strangely knew who Harry was?

I move closer to the door, my feet quietly creaking against the floors. I wince, trying to be quiet, but to no avail.

“Styles, I can hear you up there, I’m coming up.” The male voice, a teenager’s voice to be exact, calls out.


I lean up against the wall connected to the door, breathing heavily, as I heard the floorboards out in the hallway creak loudly. I could hear the breathing of the burglar getting louder as he stepped towards the room.

Then, just as the door opens, I whack the book against the burglar. But he is surprisingly prepared, and ducks, knocking me to the floor.

I land, my mouth open in an O, as pain floods through my already injured back. I look up at the burglar, my eyes looking into a cute face.

He raises his brows, staring at me, “Who are you?”

I narrow my eyes at him, “Who the hell are you?”

He gets off of me, sitting against the door, holding out a hand, “Will Sweeny, from Harry’s band.”

My brows rise this time, “Harry’s in a band?”

Will nods, “Yeah, we’re known as White Eskimo.”

I nod, sitting up myself, and shaking Will’s hand.

Will runs a hand through his hair, “So who, are you exactly?”

“Axle, an old friend of Harry, who is out at this moment.” I reply, standing up and sitting on the bed.

Will gets up too, sitting on the bed, next to me.

He turns to look at me, his grey eyes peering into my soul, “Do you mind if I wait for him, I kind of have to talk to him about something?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Sure…is it about the audition?”

Will’s eyes darken slightly, “So he told you?”

I nod, rubbing my cold arms, pulling up my drooping shirt. Will smiles at me, watching me closely.

“You’re pretty cool, Axle.” Will comments, still observing me.

I look at him, slightly perplexed, “Uh, thanks…”

He takes out a piece of paper, writing something on it, with a pen that appeared out of nowhere. He stands up and hands me the paper.

I read it, seeing only numbers, and then realizing their Will’s numbers…so I can contact him.

“I’ll chat with Styles later, see ya ‘round, Axle,” Will says as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

I hear the back door open and I rush to the window, looking out into the crisp fall weather of September. Will pauses in his tracks, as he exits Harry’s backyard, looks up at me and waves.

I wave back.

“What in the world, are you doing, Axle?” Harry’s oh-so familiar voice comments from the door.

I jump, slamming my innocent toes into the bed, glaring at Styles. Before I say anything, I shove Will’s number into my pocket.

“Jesus Christ, Harry!” I snap, holding my throbbing foot. “Stop that!”

Harry holds his hand up in surrender, “Sorry, Axle, didn’t mean to.”

I sigh, “I know, but now my foot hurts.”

 Harry nods and walks over to me, looking out of the window. Then, he looks down at me.

“Who were you waving to?” he asks.

I blush slightly, “Oh, um, one of your band members stopped by.”

Harry cringes, “Sorry I didn’t tell you about the band, I was going to.”

I shrug my shoulders, “Whatever, Styles.”

“So which one of them?”

“Will…Sweeny, I believe. Said, he wanted to talk about your audition for X Factor.” I think back to a couple of minutes ago.

“Right, well, goodnight, Axle.” Harry mutters, leaving the room in a sullen mood.

Goodnight, Styles.

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