Harry is used to breaking hearts. It's how he goes by relationships; he won't get his heart broken. Until he meets Lucy Oliver. Their too similar for her liking, and she will not have her heart broken by a play boy.
Will fate bring them together or will she push them apart?

"I'd break your heart." He stared at her,not believing her words."What if I break yours?"
"You won't. I don't get my heart broken." And with that, she left him stood there in the middle of the club.


1. 1

Lucy had never been a girl to love. She found she couldn't really love, not in the way most people could. Which is why she spent most of her time partying and breaking 'innocent' boys hearts. Not all of them were innocent, so to say, but she had to have the last word: she had to be the heartbreaker.
Just like Harry. He'd never truly loved, not after the X Factor anyway, and did much the same as Lucy. It just so happened that tonight their paths clashed, two heartbreakers together. Some people would say it was the perfect match. Lucy and Harry aren't some people. It's in their nature not to love, not to have those feelings, so why should it be different with one another? Lucy was wearing her typical outfit, a tight, black dress with a low cut top, and black shoes to match. Paired with bright red lipstick and black eye make up, she looked like the average club goer. But she wasn't. Much like Harry, who was wearing a simple outfit; plain white top, a blazer and black jeans. Simple, yet it had the upmost affect on girls. Lucy winked at the throng of boys as she entered the club, pushing her hair back. "Lucy Oliver." She nodded at he door man, who found her name familiar and let her in immediately, not allowing her to see who followed. She was in her usual 'spot'; right in the middle of the dance floor, not a care in the world. "Hey." Thinking it was the usual London clubber, she turned round, ready to charm. But it wasn't. "I'm Harry Styles. But I think you knew that already. Oh. She thought to herself. He wanted to play that game? "I don't think I did. I'm not interested in… whatever you do," she paused, smirking when his smile faltered. "And anyway, you probably just want to get in my pants." He cocked an eyebrow, clearly amazed. 
"Who's to say that?" He was barely a millimetre from her ear.
"Me. Now I think I've made it clear I don't want you. So kindly, leave." Harry was taken aback. No one had ever spoken to him in such a dismissive way. "Why should I?" He reached out, placing a hand on her hip. She raised her eyebrows and pulled away, much to his dismay. "I don't date pretty boys that think they're so good because there famous," she shrugged. "I don't like you." 
"What if you did?"
"I'd break your heart."  He stared at her,not believing her words."What if I break yours?"
"You won't. I don't get my heart broken." And with that, she left him stood there in the middle of the club. He was quick to pursue her, weaving his way through the crowd. "Give me a chance." 
"No," she waved her hand dismissively. "I don't want to give you a chance… I wouldn't want to break a little pop stars heart, would I?" He scoffed at her.
"Please. You wouldn't stand a chance." She placed a hand on her hip and looked him up and down. "Oh really?"
"Pretty sure." She glanced round, in entertained. 
"I'm leaving." And she began to walk away again, not giving him a second thought. But before she could leave, he slipped something into her hand. She exited the club, and, much to her surprise, cameras began flashing. She frowned, turning round to see Harry stood there, smiling. "I never got your name." She shrugged.
"You never asked." She was walking away at such a pace, he had to jog to catch up with her. "Wait! What is your name?" She turned round once again. "My name is Lucy Oliver." Harry smirked, a plan forming in his head. "Well then, Lucy, let me give you a lift." She was unsure. Could she trust him? She let her eyes meet his. "Fine." He frowned down at her, even with heels on, she was smaller than him.  "We're parked over there,"    he pointed to a black range rover across the street. "After you."  Lucy flashed her best smile, stumbling slightly as she stepped off the pavement. "Maybe I should help you?" He offers, out stretching a hand. She took it gratefully, gripping on like a child. 

After a good few minutes of solid driving, they came to a stop light. Harry wasn't sure what possessed him to offer to take her home; she had been so dismissive of him. "Thank you," she spoke up, toying with her hair. "I don't know how I'd have got home, right now I'd be in someone else's car." Harry was taken aback, he never thought a girl like her would do such things; she seemed so innocent and vulnerable. "What d' you mean?" 
"I don't really have relationships, I think I made that clear in the club." He chuckled.
"Oh yeah. I'm pretty much the same, I don't do relationships." She raised her eyebrows at him sarcastically. "Really? You'd never take a girl to meet your mum? Never tell her you loved her?" He shook his head. "Hmph. Who'd have thought, Harry Styles the Heartbreaker." They were silent for a while, the only noise being the low humming of the radio. Harry's eyes flicked up as the lights flashed from red, to amber and to green, indicating he could set off. "I love this song. D' you mind if I turn it up?" He shrugged, allowing her to continue. Then he realised which song it was. "You like One Direction songs?" She blushed. "I guess… this songs just mean something to me." 
"I- so you like me? And you know who I am? Ha.!" She leaned forwards, allowing him to see the haziness in her eyes. "You're an idiot." Then something clicked in Harry's head. Even he thought it was slightly crazy; inviting a girl you met no less then an hour ago to your house. "Come to mine to tomorrow." he paused, glancing at where they were. "Is this your place?" He looked at the small, cottage like house. "It's nice." 
"Thanks… and you gave me your number, so I'll text you off that." She stumbled as she stepped from the car. "I'll take these off." And in one swift moment, her shoes were in her hand and she was padding towards the door of the house, completely oblivious to what would come the next day.

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