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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2. His

Mirabelle’s eyes opened to the bright sun, peering down at her. She scowled, sitting up and realizing that she had fallen asleep somewhere within her night run. She let her eyes adjust, and gasped when she spotted buildings, only about a mile away. Days, she had ran. Maybe a week. And it was only until now that she had seen buildings. Mirabelle couldn’t help but notice her heart beat getting faster at the sight.

Maybe this was her chance to start over.

Mirabelle pulled herself up, beginning to run. She had gotten used to the pain in her legs by now. Mirabelle knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep up for much longer. I it was true that she had been running away for a week, that meant she had not had any food for a week as well. Sleep wouldn’t support her weakening body forever.

Mirabelle jogged through the tall grass, until she reached a flatland about an hour later. The buildings, the city life, it all seemed closer.

Keep your head up, Mirabelle thought.

She began to feel a bit dizzy, but shrugged it off, sprinting across the flat land until she reached to suburbs of the city. From afar, she could see people, bundled up in coats, covered with hats and other clothing. Mirabelle looked down at herself. She was only covered with a worn out shirt and hoodie, a pair of, now torn, jeans and her muddy sneakers.

Mirabelle was freezing.

Desperate to find a warm place, she made her way towards the city, climbing over a small fence which parted the city from the woods. Her shoes hit the grey concrete. Pulling the hood of her hoodie over her head, she kept her head down as she searched the crowd of busy people.
Every individual seemed to be occupied with something. Mirabelle kept her head low as she slipped past different people, making a beeline for a local Starbuck’s Coffee Shop.

When Mirabelle set foot inside the shop, it seemed as if everyone turned to look at her. People gasped, staring at her, before turning away and starting conversation. Mirabelle felt small, a fish in a sea of sharks. Mirabelle shoved her hand into her pocket, shocked when she pulled out eight quarters, a crumpled five dollar bill and some nickels.

Her stomach began to growl as she looked up at the menu posted at the front of the shop. Taking in a sharp and shaky breath, she approached the counter.

“How may I help you?” the cashier asked, staring at Mirabelle’s eyes, before looking down with a small gulp. Mirabelle suddenly wondered why the cashier looked so frightened. Mirabelle knew she wasn’t the prettiest girl in the world, let alone her physical sate after a five day run, but she had never gotten such a look before.

“I’ll take a,” she paused to repeat her order in her head, “cinnamon frappuccino.”

The cashier nodded, tapping at buttons on the screen. “Anything else?”

Mirabelle shook her head, too tired to smile. She needed a boost of energy. Caffeine would surely do the trick.

Mirabelle handed the cashier a wet and crumpled up five dollar bill. The cashier looked up at Mirabelle, partly disgusted, and then slipped the bill inside the money box. Mirabelle felt ashamed. After she received her frappuccino, she sat down at a table and hungrily chugged it down, not caring that there was another person sitting at the table for two.

The taste of real food after a week was intoxicating. Delicious. She thought she would faint from the pleasant, sugary drink.

Excuse me?” A deep voice rose from across her. Mirabelle frowned and looked up, realizing she had sat t a table which was indeed, already occupied.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry. I’ll just-“

“Oh my god.” The boy whispered, clutching his coffee. Mirabelle’s breathe hitched as she scanned the teenage boy sitting across from her.

A stray curl from his load of curly hair fell right in front of his forest green eyes. His broad pink lips were curved slightly upwards in a friendly smile, but the penetrating glare he was giving her showed he was scared. Was she really that messed up after such a run.

“What?” Mirabelle spat, clearly annoyed.

“Y-You’re eyes…” the boy gasped, “They’re…amazing.”

Mirabelle coughed awkwardly, feeling the blush rising to her cheeks. Without another word, she pushed her chair back and stood up, rushing out of the café and back into the pouring rain. She wasn’t used to the contact of anyone. She didn’t know why, but she could feel the uneasiness in her body.

“Wait!” a voice cried from behind her. Mirabelle knew it was boy she had had an encounter with only a few minutes ago. “Wait!”

Mirabelle refused to turn around. A deep feeling in her heart told her she could trust no one. Everyone was dangerous.

“Please, wait.” The beautiful voice gasped, panting for air. The boy was closer now, she could feel his presence. Mirabelle ignored him, maneuvering through the busy people. Mirabelle was shivering like a maniac, the dizziness becoming stronger. Mirabelle took a sip of her drink, hoping it would help.

It didn’t.

Suddenly, Mirabelle felt her weak body giving in, her knees buckling, her breathes shortening. White lights appeared before her vision, and the last thing she could remember, with the little memory she had, was hitting the cold ground.



Mirabelle woke up again, this time, lying on a soft mattress. She let her vision focus, noticing she was in a very luxurious looking bedroom. She was sprawled on the most comfortable thing she had laid on in an entire week. Heaven was the only word to explain such a new environment.

But who had brought her here?

As if on cue, a boy strolled into the room, his eyes widening when he saw Mirabelle awake.

“You’re up!” he cheered, quickening his pace towards her.

Mirabelle recognized him as the boy from Starbuck’s.

“Are you feeling better?” the boy asked, sitting at the edge of the bed. Mirabelle scooted away from him, scared of his presence.

The boy’s face softened. “I promise I won’t hurt you.” He whispered, biting his lip. Mirabelle melted. He was quite gorgeous.

“W-Who are you?” she sputtered, sitting up in the bed. She winced as her stomach muscles stretched. The boy smiled.

“I’m Harry.” He said simply, holding out his hand. Mirabelle quietly examined his hand, seeing as though it was perfectly shaped, with a few veins popping out, indicating his strength.

“What do you want?” she spat, hiding her face with a pillow. Mirabelle felt the pillow being taken from her hands, uncovering her face again.

“I was running after you when you took off from the coffee shop. You seemed to be a bit shaken up. I only wanted to see what was wrong, and then you collapsed in the middle of the sidewalk.” Harry chuckled lightly.

“You're a stranger. You could hurt me.” Mirabelle said, more to herself than to him.

“Never. I would never hurt you.” Harry shook his head vigorously, stroking Mirabelle’s arm
.
“Don’t touch me!” Mirabelle yelled, slapping Harry’s hand before backing up on the bed. Harry looked alarmed, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry.” Harry whimpered, getting up from the bed. “W-Would you like anything to eat?”

Mirabelle paused, seeing as this was the perfect chance to get some real food to eat. She nodded without a peep.

“Alright. Stay put, uh…”

“Mirabelle.” She finished for him. Harry’s smile widened.

“That’s a beautiful name, love.”

Mirabelle didn’t smile. She simply turned away and faced the huge window which gave her a beautiful view of the city below her.

When she looked back, Harry had disappeared.

Mirabelle got up from the bed, slowly pressing her finger to the cold wall of the room she occupied. She whipped around, facing a body length mirror which was hooked up on the wall.


Mirabelle gasped at what she saw.

Her eyes were rainbow.

Mirabelle passed out once more.



“Mirabelle, you need to stop fainting.” The all too familiar voice rang through her ears. Mirabelle groaned and rubbed her eyes before opening them.

“What happened?” Mirabelle asked, holding herself up by her elbows.

“Well, you seemed to have passed out again when I went to get you some food.” Harry sighed, holding out his hand. Mirabelle shot him a glare, pulling herself up instead of taking Harry’s waiting hand. Harry dropped him hand, and let of a small “hmph”, looking defeated.

“You’re a tough one, eh?” Harry smirked, watching Mirabelle’s every move as she made her way back to the bed. Mirabelle only shrugged.

“So, what exactly were you doing all alone in the cold and rain, wearing dirty clothes, and smelling like utter crap?” Harry scoffed, backing up and leaning against the door frame.
Mirabelle froze.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t remember.

Mirabelle stayed silent.

“Fine,” Harry exhaled, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm only just the person who practically saved your life!”

And with that, he marched out of the room.

Mirabelle let out a shaky sigh.

How much she would like to tell him her purpose, but she seemed to have forgotten everything. She couldn’t remember who her parents were, where she had came from. Mirabelle only seemed to remember her name.

So much information.

Sitting on the bed, she grabbed an apple from the tray of food Harry had brought up for her. She let her teeth sink into the juicy fruit, her stomach twisting from the sudden change of diet.

Mirabelle felt a warm tear trickling down her face, followed by more and more.

Mirabelle couldn’t help but feel lost and alone. Mirabelle collapsed on the bed, letting her tears soak the rich fabric.

Hours must have passed, before the door creaked open.

“Mirabelle?” Harry’s voice cooed, getting louder as he approached me. Mirabelle didn’t dare look up. She knew her face was ugly from the countless tear stains.

“Mirabelle, I’m sorry.” Harry whispered. Mirabelle guessed that he had sat down on the bed, by how it sank down beside her.

“I shouldn’t have tried to force information out of you. It’s clear that you’re not in the mood for speaking to me, and I should’ve realized that sooner.” He rambled, running both his hands through his locks.

“No, no I’m sorry.” Mirabelle managed to cough out. She looked up and into his shocked eyes. Of course Harry was shocked. She had finally spoken a decent sentence.

“You’re shy, but strong.” Harry laughed. “That’s quite attractive.”

Mirabelle gave him the evil eye, snorting before she turned her back to him, examining her bruises and cuts.

Harry sighed.

“You’ve only eaten the apple.” He noticed, probably looking down at the tray. Mirabelle shrugged, turning back around to face Harry.

“Not hungry.” She responded. That was a huge lie, and she knew it. Mirabelle felt helpless, taking the effort and time of a person she didn’t even know.

“Are you tired?” Harry questioned, playing with a loose string at the hem of his khaki shorts.

Mirabelle nodded, locking her gaze with Harry. She cleared her throat, and that seemed to snap Harry out of his trance. Mirabelle had never put anyone in a trance before. She couldn’t help but feel a bit proud.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Mirabelle bit her lip, nodding slowly before resting her head on the soft pillow.

She was out in seconds.



Harry kicked his feet up on the large couch in his lonely living room. How lucky he was to have found such a pretty girl. Harry could tell by her physical condition, that she had gone through something rough. The way she barely spoke told him that she hid secrets.

Harry would do anything to find out what they were.

He was glad he finally had a girl on his mind. It had been a month since his relationship with the famous Taylor Swift had ended, and all he had wanted after that was someone who he could really love.

Harry knew Mirabelle was special. She had the little glint and sparkle in her eyes, letting Harry know that she was tougher than she let on. And of course, there was one other very apparent thing about Mirabelle that had given him quite a shock at first.

Mirabelle’s eyes were rainbow. A rainbow of colors shot out from her pupils, giving her whole face some spark.

Harry focused on how he would get Mirabelle to start talking to him. She was such an interesting person. He could tell just by looking at her, than she was a bit lost, and was too, trying to discover something new about herself. Harry could barely explain what he knew about her, just from looking deep into those beautiful eyes of hers.

For now, Mirabelle was his.
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