Flashes in Time

All Mirabelle Sedora can remember is stumbling down a gravel road, lost and confused. When Harry Styles, a member of the biggest boy-band in the world devotes his time to helping her settle down, Mirabelle thinks this is her new start. Her new beginning. She wants to know of her past, know where she came from. She wants to know everything.

Until the flashbacks start coming.

Tensions rise, and a playful romance takes ahold, as Harry and Mirabelle push their way to answering one key question that changes everything:

Who is Mirabelle Sedora?

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5. Bloody Situation

After Harry and Mirabelle got home, Harry taught her how to take the color contacts out. Mirabelle decided that she looked much better with the contacts, rather than having to live with her ugly rainbow eyes. Never had she seen a person with colorful eyes, so she assumed she had some mental issue.

When Mirabelle had finished hanging up her entirely new wardrobe in the large closet connected to her room, she found Harry sitting on the back porch. She stood silently at the door and watched as Harry quietly sang to the night sky. He seemed to be lost in his own world.
Mirabelle saw this as a graceful moment.

Suddenly, Harry turned around, smiling as if he knew she had been there all along.

“Come and sit.” He said, patting the empty chair beside him. Mirabelle hesitated, but soon joined him out of the porch.

“Why are you out here all alone?” Mirabelle questioned, searching Harry’s face. Harry sighed, staring out at the sky.

“Sometimes, it’s just nice to get away from all the noise, you know, have some quiet time.”

“Well, today didn’t seem very loud.” Mirabelle pointed out, picking at her nails absently.

Harry let out a sarcastic laugh. “You don’t know my life.”

“You’re right.” Mirabelle agreed. And she didn’t know anything about her own either. She knocked at her head a few times, hoping it would bring something back about her past. Why couldn’t she remember anything? Her head started the pain from the contact of her fist to her head, so she dropped her hand helplessly.

“You are strange.” Harry laughed, indicating her previous actions. Mirabelle blushed, looking up at the sky.

“The sky looks beautiful tonight.” She whispered, noticing every single star that shone so brightly.

“Mhm.” Harry mumbled. Mirabelle turned to him, only to see him staring back at her. They shared an intense stare, before Harry cleared his throat and looked away. Both of the teenagers blushed furiously, staying silent for quite a while.

Mirabelle wondered if she should tell Harry about how he couldn’t remember anything about her past life. She then decided that would be embarrassing. She was also afraid he would confirm the thought of her being crazy and send her to some mental asylum and leave her forever.
Mirabelle definitely didn’t want that. For some reason, she felt as if Harry was the only person she could trust, even though the trust level wasn’t much for him either. She felt like he still had a lot to accomplish to gain her full trust in him. But right now, Mirabelle felt like Harry was all she had.

“Are you going to give me a fashion show, sometime?” Harry’s deep, raspy voice said, filling up the silence. His deep, British accent never failed to warm Mirabelle’s heart just a bit. She couldn’t help it. His voice was intoxicating.

Mirabelle turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” Mirabelle teased, pulling her legs up onto the chair and taking her knees close to her chest.

“You hungry? I could make us dinner.” Harry offered, looking into Mirabelle’s colorful, glimmering eyes.

“I’m actually not very hungry. I’m going to bed.” She replied honestly, standing up from the chair.

“Good night, Harry.” She whispered, her voice sending chill’s down Harry’s spine.

“Sweet dreams, Mirabelle.”

Mirabelle left the porch, shutting the door quietly behind her.
 



A few nights later, Mirabelle woke up crying. It was only a few tears, and she realized it was because of the throbbing pain at her side. The moonlight sent enough light into the room so that when she lifted her shirt up, the red gash was gleaming a bright red, starting to spill out blood.

She must have slept on it roughly.

Mirabelle slowly sat up, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed.

She had seen this large gash before, when she was showering, and when she was trying on clothes in the mall with Harry. Panicked, she clutched the bleeding area of her skin and tiptoed downstairs, not wanting to awaken Harry.

She grabbed a paper towel from the kitchen and pressed it to the gash, only for the paper towel to be fully soaked with blood in seconds. The pain stung terribly through Mirabelle’s body, causing small sounds to escape her mouth as she tried to contain herself. She dragged herself to the freezer, taking out some ice cubes. She pressed to ice to the cut, which was pouring out blood. The ice only made the pain worse.

Mirabelle cried out.

Her vision began to blur as she tried to stay conscious. The pain began spreading across the entire right side of Mirabelle’s body. By now, she was in the middle of a small pool of blood.

Seconds later, Mirabelle heard the pitter patter of footsteps hurriedly entering the kitchen.

“Mirabelle!” Harry gasped, rushing towards her. He knelt down, careful to avoid the blood on the floor, and cautiously raised Mirabelle’s shirt up. His breath hitched when he saw the large cut.

“Mirabelle, what happened?” he asked frantically, grabbing many paper towels and running them under the cold water from the sink before pressing them to the cut on Mirabelle’s stomach.

“Harry.” She gasped weakly. She reached out for him, touching his shoulder. He watched as Mirabelle swayed slowly from side the side, before she became unconscious, toppling over.

“Oh shit.” Harry cursed, reaching for the landline phone. He quickly dialed three numbers and pressed the phone to his ear, his feet tapping with anxiety.

“Hello? This is the 112 Emergency Services, how can I help you? ” a female voice answered.

“I need help immediately.”

 

Hours later, Harry watched as Mirabelle slept quietly in her hospital bed. Bandages covered the cut, along while Mirabelle’s other bruises and scars were tended to as well. Harry wondered with concern, how she had gotten those cuts and scars. Had she been abused? Had she been involved in a fight? A gang? Harry realized he knew nothing about Mirabelle.

“Sir, I’d like to talk to you, please.” A young nurse said quietly from the door way. Harry glanced at Mirabelle before standing up and following the nurse out of the room.

“What did you want for me to talk about?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

“It seems as though Ms. Sedora has had some interference, physically, and either abused or mistreated greatly.”

“I can see that.” Harry answered, trying not to sound as sarcastic as he had intended.

“Do you know anything about any fights, or physical approaches Mirabelle has encountered?” the nurse asked, searching Harry’s face. Harry shook his head.

“No, I don’t.”

The nurse sighed. “The doctor also wrote down some observations of Ms. Sedora’s eye color. Do you have any idea whether she wears color contacts?”

Harry thought for a moment. Maybe if he said that her eye color was fake, they would ignore her eyes and possibly avoid those weird tests that he was sure they were planning.

“No, those are contacts. She's wanted those for a while.” He lied, keeping a straight face. The nurse nodded, scribbling something down on the clipboard she was holding.

“Well, you can go on back if you’d like. Thank you for your help.” The nurse smiled. Harry began to walk back to Mirabelle’s room. When he turned back around for a split second, he saw Mirabelle’s clipboard lying on the counter. Without another thought, ran back to the counter, picking up the clipboard.

Harry found out some new information about Mirabelle.

Name: Mirabelle Ariella Sedora

Birth date: October 2, 1995

Age: 18

Male guardian: Name not found

Female guardian: Annabelle Sedora

Birthplace: Birmingham, England

Harry paused. Birmingham? Birmingham, England? He had suspected that he had found Mirabelle after she had been out for a while, but if she had ran from Birmingham to London, she was crazy. He also wondered why the male guardian of Mirabelle was not found. Had her father left her before her mother gave birth to her? Was he killed?

This information only left Harry with more and more questions.

Harry quickly set the clipboard and went back to Mirabelle, who was still deeply in sleep. Her eyebrows were furrowed together, and she seemed to be mumbling certain things that Harry could not decipher. Another must have passed, and Harry was beginning to fall asleep when suddenly, he felt a hand being placed over his. Instantly, Harry shot up, to see Mirabelle’s eyelids fluttering open.

“Am I dreaming?” she asked in a lost tone. A wide grin crossed Harry’s lips.

“No, love. This is real.”

“Then why do I see an angel?” Mirabelle whispered. Harry’s heart almost stopped beating at her words.

“What does this angel look like?” he asked softly, caressing Mirabelle’s cheek with the back of his hand.’

“Beautiful. He is beautiful.” She said weakly, touching Harry’s hand which was on her face. Harry didn’t know if she felt that short spark when their hands touched, but the moment felt magical.

“Mirabelle, it’s me. Harry.” He chuckled softly, taking her hand. Mirabelle let her eyes focus.

Harry.

She blushed immediately, pulling her hand from Harry’s grasp.

“I’m so sorry.” She apologized, biting down on her lip.

“No need, Mirabelle. How are you feeling?” Harry asked, looking down at her. It was nice to see those beautiful eyes of hers again.

“Not good. At all.” She replied honestly, the cut near her stomach still paining.

“It will get better. Okay?” Harry said sweetly.

“I hope.” Mirabelle sighed.

Mirabelle had been staying with Harry for just over a week now. The days had flown by on Harry’s part. He had missed having someone to care for, the way he had once cared for his sister, even though he was younger. Harry noticed that Mirabelle didn’t smile often, watching as she daydreamed, entering her own little world.

Mirabelle had started to loosen up to Harry, though Harry could tell she was still a bit self conscious and still had some wall to be broken down. Harry would work hard at it.

When Harry told Mirabelle that visiting hours were almost over and he needed to leave, Mirabelle frowned, enjoying the company of her only friend.

“I promise, I will be back tomorrow.” He whispered, smiling down at Mirabelle. For the first time in all the time she had spent with Harry, she took a second to get a good look at him. She realized that she absolutely loved his forest green eyes, and those luscious curls. The indent in his left cheek became apparent as he smiled at her.

“Okay.” She answered simply. Harry waved to her before leaving the room.

Harry did come back the next morning, with donuts and another bag in his hand.

“Good morning, Mirabelle.” He said, his voice soothing her instantly. She eyed the familiar box that he held in his hands.

“Ah yes. I brought you some donuts. It’ll sure cheer you up.” He smiled, walking toward Mirabelle. Harry set the box of donuts in Mirabelle’s lap and pulled up a chair to the edge of the bed.

“Did you sleep better last night?” he asked, fully concerned.

“A little bit better.” She answered, greedily taking out a chocolate covered donut. She sunk her teeth into it, savoring the taste.

Harry watched the silly girl enjoy her donut. He was glad he had found a way to make her happy.

Harry began to think about the information he had found out last night from the clipboard. He figured that he should ask her about Birmingham, and how she had came to London in the first place. He decided he would save the mild interrogation for later. After all, she was still going through some intense recovery.

“What’s the other bag in your hand for?” Mirabelle asked with a loud sigh. Harry gave her a warm smile.

“It’s a change of clothes. I was going to go ask the nurse if we can get you out of here today, if you’d like.”

“I would like that.” Mirabelle agreed with a small smile.


After half an hour of persuading the doctors, Harry talked the doctors into releasing Mirabelle. He felt bad, as he had to bribe two of the opposing nurses with autographs for their kids, who were in love with his band.

One by one, nurses entered Mirabelle’s room and did separate checkups on her. They made sure she could walk decently, and re-bandaged the healing cut. After disconnecting the IV from Mirabelle’s arm, the main nurse sent Mirabelle to go change out of her hospital gown.

Mirabelle took the change of clothes from Harry and stepped into the connected bathroom. After stripping out of that terrible gown, she looked in the mirror. The large cut was bandaged tightly, with little cuts and bruises surrounding the rest of her stomach. Mirabelle almost cried when she realized how ugly she looked.

Biting her lip to hold back tears, she peeked in at what Harry had brought her. He picked out the black top with a white heart it the middle, the cute ripped jeans that Harry had made her get, a pair of Jack Will’s branded shoes, and a grey and pink beanie. Mirabelle liked Harry’s choice.

After putting the outfit on, she stepped out of the bathroom. Harry looked up, a grin on his face.

“You look nice.” He complimented.

“What should I do with my hair?” Mirabelle sighed lazily, not really wanting to doanything with it.

“Come here.” Harry smiled, setting his phone down. Mirabelle shot him a confused look but walked towards him. He sat her down on the bed and miraculously began to braid her long blonde hair.

“You can braid?” Mirabelle giggled, honestly the skill striking her as cute.

“What can I say? I do have a sister.” Ha shrugged, his ears reddening with embarrassment.
Harry flipped strands of Mirabelle’s hair from one side to another, forming a messy, but cute fishtail braid.

“That was tiring.” Harry exhaled, exaggerating. Mirabelle smiled and stood up, wincing a bit and the shot of pain that appeared from the healing cut.

She entered the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Harry had done a decent job. She sent him a thumbs up from the bathroom. She then grabbed the gray and pink beanie and set it and the top of her head for a finishing touch.

“Now you look better.” Harry called from the bed, sending her a thumbs up back. Mirabelle giggled lightly, heading back towards Harry.

“I really don’t want to stay here anymore.” She said quietly, “I don’t like it here.”

“Since I know you’re still not healed properly, I was thinking we could spend a few days, at my place, you know and just watch films for a few days. We could order take out, too. How does that sound?” Harry suggested, standing up.

“That sounds fine.” Mirabelle said, smiling up at him.

Harry didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he found himself suddenly sliding his arms under Mirabelle’s arms, pulling her into a long hug. He was careful not to make contact with her cut, though. Mirabelle tensed up at the sudden action, but slowly melted into Harry’s strong arms. Her arms fell perfectly around his neck, his cologne making her knees go weak.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” He whispered, his lips just barely touching Mirabelle’s ear.

Harry liked the feeling of having Mirabelle in his arms, but he knew she was going through a lot, and he couldn’t interfere. Slowly, He de-attached himself from Mirabelle and stared down at her. He realized she was almost as tall as him, shorter by only two inches. Mirabelle smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

Harry followed Mirabelle out of the room, watching as her hips swayed gracefully. She had a small bounce in her step, as if she was walking on air. She turned around, just to make sure he was following her, sending him a small wink. It was an innocent, childish wink, which just made it all the more attractive.

But Harry knew that the most attractive thing about Mirabelle was that she was just so different than any other girl he had ever met.

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