Stalked (Harry Styles Fanfiction) [HIATUS]

(DISCLAIMER: This fan fiction is copy-writed by me @jezicat on Movellas so please don't steal it or the story line. ) "I had to face the consequences of falling for a guy who couldn't care less about me. He doesn't know me." - Avalon Jade Wright "I hate the fact that she thinks I don't know her. I do; secretly. I'm the bad guy for falling for someone I haven't met... yet." - Harry Edward Milward Styles



14. Chapter 12


I can't explain how sorry I am. I'm so sorry. I'm traveling to Turkey in two days, I hope this chapter makes up for my absence. I love you all so fucking much! I'm so sorry .

"Friends are born, not made."

Comment, tell me what you think! :)xx -Jessica


  Louis' P.O.V


“What the fuck is this?” yelled Simon.


I think we all simultaneously gasped, he never curses. He must be really angry.


“We can explain.” I offered.


“Go ahead.”


“Well,” I glanced towards Niall, pondering over if I should tell our own boss of what happened. Of what really happened.


“Well?” Simon urged.


“Niall and Harry had a fight, Harry drove off to the shooting, there was a fire, a tree fell on his thigh, he breathed too much smoke and lost too much blood, we found him. Now he's here.” I lied.


“Cut the crap, Mr. Tomlinson.” Simon's loud voice caused me to flinch. “The pictures prove everything and you dare lie to me?”




“I was just--”


“You were just defending your band mate? I know. But Niall's in some deep shit.” he growled.


I lowered my head in shame.


“Simon, I'm sorry.” Niall apologized.


Simon shot him a glare before walking out of the room.


“My mum will find out.” Harry realized.


We all exasperatedly groaned. Nothing could get worse.


I'm positive of that.


Avalon's P.O.V


“Good morning, Bitch.” I greeted.


“Good morning.” Samantha flipped me off.


“We're going to London.”


“What? We're actually doing that?”


Is she being serious? “Of course, you know how stubborn I can be.”


“Adventure time?” She grinned.


“Adventure time.” I agreed.




We've just arrived in London, I've been waiting for this day for so long. I can't move.




“C'mon, Piglet.” Samantha urged, “ Ugh, jet lag. I need to sleep, the flight was so long.”


I stood still, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be awoken soon to go to school. This can't be happening. I can't be in London. This is surreal.


I heard Samantha groan again as she dragged me to find a taxi. After finding one, me admiring the driver's accent, putting our luggage in the trunk, putting our asses in the seats, and giving the driver our destination, I instantly shrieked.


“Oh my gosh, I can't believe we're here.” I gushed.


Samantha immediately shushed me. She must be really tired.


Eyes flickering with fascination, I smiled while we passed the London Eye. I immediately grinned as the sight of our hotel was seen.


We were ushered out of the car into the lobby as a polite woman greeted us, “Good morning, Ladies.”


“Hello, we reserved a room under the name Thompson.” I explained.


“You used my name. Bitch.” Samantha whispered so only I can hear.


I giggled and we were given our keys after a few signings and checkings were made.


“Woah,” I awed as we entered our room.


“Tell me about it.” Samantha smiled.


We both attacked the comfort of the beds and as soon as our heads hit the pillows, we were out like a light. I never really realized how tired I was.




I woke up, my eyes greeting the light seeping through the curtains not-so-nicely. Basically, I let out a loud moan in annoyance before slapping my hand on the mattress- I think it was the mattress.


“Fuck you.” a voice I recognized as Samantha's growled.


Definitely not the mattress.


I tossed and turned in bed until I was facing her, looking deep into her lovely eyes. Not too deep, though. It's the morning.


I'm so tired, I can't even function properly.


“Why?” I groaned.


“Storm last night,” she yawned.


“Storm?” I understand that she gets frightened in cases of storms, but why would there be a storm now?


“We're in London, Babycakes.” she grinned.


I gaped at her, “We're in London.”


She nodded slowly, as if she was telling the information to a toddler.


“We need to see what hospital Harry's in.” I squeak.


“Not again.” she nags.


I immediately shush her, scrummaging for my phone on my bedside table. Once finding it, I enter the Twitter application and ask my good amount of followers if they have any idea which hospital Harry is. Moments later, an update account tweeted me the location and I smiled at Samantha.


She slowly shook her head, “No, can't we do something else today?”


“Nope. We're heading to Rosebelle's National Hospital.”


“Weird name,” I heard her mutter before hopping out of bed to change- I hope.


I follow her steps, getting out of bed and stretching. Skipping towards the window, I grin at the sight of the London Eye. We picked an amazing hotel. I entered the bathroom, finishing all my morning preparations and getting rudely kicked out after Samantha claimed that I was taking too long.


I furrowed my eyebrows over what I should wear; I might meet them today. I should probably dress pretty well, then I let out a loud scream of realization. I heard Samantha's scream after a few seconds.


“What happened?” Her voice was muffled from the toothbrush in her mouth.


“What if Harry remembers me from the time I sent him my picture on Twitter?” I squealed.


“He might, it was only a few days ago.” She explained in a 'no shit Sherlock' tone, it still sounded weird.


“Oh my gosh!”


I heard her groan and re-enter the bathroom to finish whatever she needed to finish.


I returned to assigning my outfit of the day. I picked up a green summer dress, then realized it's too cold for the strapless dress. I then took hold of a collared dress. Its collar was white and the rest of the short-sleeved dress. It was a baby blue that looked so beautiful with my skin tone; tanned. But then, it looked like I put too much effort. I eventually picked up a pair of shorts and suspenders. The shorts were a light green, perfect for my skin; tanned. I also picked a white tank top and a beige cardigan to finish off the look. I smiled in triumph before stripping off and stepping into the outfit, leaving the suspenders dangling. I gazed at myself in the mirror, the corners of my lips tilting up. I looked good. The mirror is no longer hating on me.


I twirled around, eventually tripping over my own feet and giggling at my clumsy act. Samantha entered the room and rolled her eyes at me bemusedly.


“You look gorgeous, now help me pick an outfit.” She ordered.


I nodded and attacked her suitcase, immediately throwing things across the room. My eyes widened once I saw a lovely pair of high-waisted electric blue shorts. I chose a yellow shirt to fit with it, and it did.


“Perfect.” I whispered after she wore the outfit I prepared.


We let our hair flow down naturally, and added the slightest bit of make up. Afterward, we stepped into our converses. I took one final deep breath before opening the hotel room door and stepping out.


Samantha asked the recipient to order us a cab despite my pleads to let the poor man lay down instead of waste his time on the call for us. I fished my phone out of my pocket, entering the Twitter application.


“CRAPTUH! lol what's harry's room number? im pretty sure none of u kno tho so i” I tweeted.


“hahaahha ava xD u just go to london like that? room 659 dont blame meh I found an update account that tweeted it.” @definebravery, Katya, answered.


“skank you, skank. <3 ilysm kattttttttttt :)” I replied.


“Room 659.” I told Samantha as we entered the taxi.


She give me a horrified look, “Um, Rosebelle's National Hospital please.”


“Okay, miss. Austalian, oi?” The man asked.


“Yes, I'm guessing you're Irish, mate?”


“You got that right.” He smiled.


I mentally fangirled at the fact that he's Irish.


'Many people are Irish you idiot.' My subconscious scolded.


“How the fuck did you know the room number?” She whispered.


I waved my phone in the air, she chuckled.


I shook my head and laid it on the window. I think I dozed off at one point.




“Ava. Wake up, Babe.” A voice shook me.


“Mhmm.” I hummed.


“We need to see Harry.”


With that, my head snapped up. “Harry?”


“Yes, Harry, Louis, Zayn, Liam, and Niall. You might even see a Larry moment.” She explained.


“Ok.” I agreed in a childlike manner.


“How much do we owe you, Sir?” I politely ask.


“Nothing, it's on me.”


“No sir, we need to pay.”


“I enjoyed the conversation with your friend. That's enough, Darling.”


I glanced at Samantha before thanking the driver.


“Go get your Harry Styles, Sweety.” The driver hollered and drove off.


I glared at my best friend, “You told him?!”


“He seemed trustworthy... you told all your followers.” She sheepishly replies.


I scoffed and asked her, “So, how will we be doing this?”


“We need to act as if we know what the fuck we're doing, we act like we have someone to visit. Okay?”




We strutted toward the entrance, only to notice the swarm of fans. Oh no.


“Excuse me.” We squeezed through them.


I felt someone elbow me in the stomach, how do the lads get through all of this?


“Ladies.” A voice boomed.


I looked up to see the buff Paul Higgins and I swear I died a little inside. The fucking Paul Higgins.


“Yes, sir?” I casually answered even though I was about to cry and let out my inner fangirl.


“What are you doing here?”


“We're trying to go in but these psycho chicks aren't letting us.” I scoffed.


He didn't seem too convinced but ushered us inside the hospital, “What do you need?”


“I have a pregnancy appointment, you see my boyfriend raped me last night and then I think I'm pre-”


“Okay, enough. Go in, girls. But if you were lying...” He trailed off.


We nodded and waited until he walked outside to skip past the recipient to the elevator in a sneaky manner.


Samantha pressed the '6' button before turning back to me, “Pregnancy? Raped?”


I shrugged and let out a laugh, soon being joined by her. We heard a familiar ding and we exited the small stall.


Our feet tapped on the floor beneath us, our eyes scanning the hallways.


“632, 633, 634, 635...” I counted under my breath.


After a minute or so of walking, I saw the number '659' plastered on a door. I grinned. My grin soon faded away once I heard Paul's voice echoing in the halls.


“Shit.” I gasped.


“Shit, shit, shit.” Repeated Samantha.


I looked back to see Paul chasing after us along with other security gaurds. My instinct was to run to the door, this is my only chance. Before being able to do that, two pairs of arms wrapped around me.


“No,” I yelled, “Harry! Harry! I love you!”


The tears streamed down my face. I'm pathetic.


There goes my chance.


Harry's P.O.V


“No, Harry! Harry! I love you!” A feminine voice screamed.


I know that voice so well.


“That's Ava.” I grinned. “That's my Ava.”

“You're going crazy, Harry. You just miss her.” Liam reminded.


“No, that's Ava. I know it. That's my fucking girl!” I tugged at my hair.


“Harry...” Louis tried saying but another familiar feminine voice spoke.


“Stop resisting, Ava!” She yelled.


“Sam, please.” The first voice pleaded.


“Ava.” My voice got weak.



Cliffhanger, sorry :)

Haha I love you all so much. 

By the way, follow me on twitter?

Tweet me, "I'm being stalked by [insert favorite 1D member] and I like it ;)"

I'm giving a shoutout on twitter and on here to whomever follows me and tweets me that @definebravery! :D

Love you all! :)xx -Jessica

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