A Place to Stay

I said goodbye to my Dad today, he's off to New York again. I'm eighteen so I can look after myself now. I thought I would be alone for three weeks until Harry Styles from One Direction came to my front door asking for a place to stay . . .


1. Bye

I hugged by Dad goodbye as the taxi arrived. 

"Take care, don't set the kitchen on fire, if there's any problems then phone me." Dad informed me, he waved goodbye then got into the taxi. When the taxi disappeared down the road I shut the door and locked it. 

My name is Lizzie Tyler, I'm eighteen years old. My dad sometimes has to go across the country for work. I have dirty blonde hair and green eyes. My skin is pale, I do live in England, Holmes Chapel to be exact. I have about zero talent, I can't sing. I can play piano though (the only talent I possess). 

I sat on the sofa and switched on the TV. After getting into a repeat of 'Friends' the doorbell rung. The chimes echoing through the almost vacant house. I got up and ran to the door in case dad had forgotten his passport or something. I unlocked the door quickly, pulling skin off of my index finger as I rushed, and opened the door fiercely. 

"Hello?" I said annoyed, it was Harry Styles. I know he's from One Direction, but I'm not fussed about them to be honest.

"Hi, um. I need somewhere to stay. I can't get home." Harry begged. I rolled my eyes and stepped away from the door. 

"Come in. My dad's away for three weeks so it's your lucky day." I gave in, I couldn't be bothered to listen to some boy from a band beg me to let him inside. 

He walked inside and I shut the door and locked it. "Thank you . . . what happened to your hand?" He gasped, I looked at my hand and saw blood was trickling down my finger. 

"Crap! I cut it on the keys when I was trying to unlock the door." I muttered. I ran into the kitchen and ran it under a tap. Harry was soon behind me. He passed me a paper towel and I took it and wrapped my finger in it. No plasters existed in my house. "Thanks." I murmured. 

"How is it now?" Harry asked concerned. 

"The bleeding is slowing down, I didn't think I cut it that bad . . ." I replied. I walked out by the front door to check for any drops of blood, all clear. Luckily. 

"So what's your name?" He asked casually, turning the subject away from blood. 

"Lizzie." I answered. I threw the bloody paper towel in the bin and turned to face him. 

"Cool name." He complimented with a light smile. I didn't smile back, I never really smiled. When you have had a life like mine, you know not to trust people and by smiling at them it makes them think that they trust you. My mum ruined my trust in people, she would always return home and promise she wouldn't leave again, a few weeks later she was gone. I haven't seen her in three years. I used to always smile when she returned and promised she wouldn't leave again. 

"Why can't you get home?" I asked him. 

"Parents aren't home yet, don't have a key. Plus there are paparazzi and lots of fans waiting for me." He replied honestly. 

"Why my house?" I asked. 

"'Cause your house is closer to my house." He explained. 

"You live behind the corner? So we live on the same road?" I asked him in shock. I never knew I lived near Harry Styles. 

"Yeah . . ." Harry replied. 

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