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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6. Lied

Mirabelle sighed and grabbed the television remote from the other side of the sofa. She switched the television on and began flipping through the channels.

“Hey, can you switch it the football channel?” Harry asked, coming up behind her.

“No. Eww.” Mirabelle answered stubbornly, continuing to switch channels.

“Come on. We already watched a ton of chick flicks. I think it’s my turn to choose.” Harry argued cocking an eyebrow at Mirabelle.

“ What happened to guests first?” Mirabelle shot back with a triumphant grin.

“Oh, whatever. Just give me the remote and everyone will be happy.” Harry cooed, nearing Mirabelle. She hid the remote under her armpit, sticking her tongue out at Harry.

“Loser.” She cackled, smirking at him.

“You asked for it.” Harry grinned, pouncing on top of Mirabelle. Harry tickled Mirabelle until she was breathless. Just before she let go of the remote, she spit on it.

“Dirty, dirty, dirty.” Harry hummed, shaking his head.

“I do not want to watch football, Harry. It’s so boring.”

“Fine. Lets watch the news.” He snorted, switching to the news channel.

A female reporter was getting ready to speak.

Very recently, eighteen year old Mirabelle Sedora was said to have escaped her home in Birmingham after a violent screaming was heard, reported a neighboring witness. The witness insisted on screaming of both males and females ringing through the house, and one glass window was seen broken. Mirabelle’s mother, Annabelle Sedora was seen speaking to the police. Ambulances and fire trucks bordered the house, and a child of single mom, Annabelle, was seen being taken into the ambulance. No one knows exactly what happened at the Sedora household, but blood was seen on the premises. Police are now on the search for Mirabelle Sedora and investigating the case.

Harry switched the TV off and stared shocked at the floor.

That was a bad idea.” Harry whispered to himself.

Mirabelle was trying to control her breathing. They both stayed silent, not daring to speak. Harry was scared. Was he taking care of a possible criminal? No. He couldn’t afford to think like that. This whole case must be misunderstood. Mirabelle was a sweet and kind girl. She couldn’t have been the cause of that screaming.

Harry turned to Mirabelle, who was frozen in fear. Her face was pale, and it looked like she was holding her breath. Her lips trembled slightly, and her fists were balled up.

“Mirabelle.” Harry said slowly.

“Stop.”

“Mirabelle.”

“Stop it.”

“Mirabelle, please…”

“No! Stop! I told you I was a monster! Why are you even nice to me? I could kill you! I probably killed someone there too.” She yelled, pointing to the blank screen of the television.

“Mirabelle, you are not-“

“Shut up, Harry. Just shut up!” Mirabelle screamed, throwing a pillow to the floor as she began to cry. Before Harry could stop her, she bolted out of the room.

Harry became panicked. He didn’t know what to do.

Should he go comfort Mirabelle? Or would it be best to leave her alone?

One thing he knew for sure, was that Mirabelle could never have meant to hurt anyone on purpose. She was fragile, alone, and she ran away when she saw a fly. Harry knew Mirabelle was probably heart broken right now. He knew she was blaming herself for everything. He knew she was terrified of this information. Yet, he found it shocking how she could have been so surprised to hear this information if she had done it. It was almost as if she had…
Forgotten.

Harry lied on the couch for quite a while, asking himself what he was to do. He could hear Mirabelle’s loud sobbing from upstairs. Finally, he decided he would go check up on Mirabelle.

Mirabelle’s face was stuffed in a pillow, her cries now sounding muffled.

“Mirabelle.” Harry coughed. She stopped crying and held her breath.

“Mirabelle, please don’t feel guilty.” Harry begged, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

“What am I to feel then, Harry? Happy?” she barked, flipping over so that she was lying on her back.

“Neither. Just know that nothing is certain yet.” Harry soothed, rubbing Mirabelle’s back. Mirabelle was shivering. She was shivering so bad, that Harry thought she would have a seizure. He scooped Mirabelle up, into his arms, and set her on his lap. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she cried into his shoulder.

“It’s okay. Shh. Everything will be fine.” He whispered, continuously rubbing Mirabelle’s back. Harry could feel his shirt becoming wet with Mirabelle’s tears.

“Harry, what if I’ve killed someone?” Mirabelle sobbed, her shivering not decreasing one bit.

Harry frowned. “Think for a second, Mirabelle. Would you really kill someone?”
Mirabelle only continued to cry.

Harry sighed.

“Mirabelle?”

“What?” she whined, her teeth chattering.

“Do you remember anything about your past?”

Mirabelle froze in Harry’s arms.

“You don’t, do you?” he confirmed softly, putting his hands to her lower back to support her, so she wouldn’t fall off his lap.

“No.” she answered, keeping her head down.

“Do you think you may have somehow gotten amnesia?” Harry hummed, rubbing her back, as he knew Mirabelle found the action soothing.

“What’s that?” Mirabelle sniffled, rubbing her bloodshot eyes.

“It’s a form of memory loss. You may not be able to remember new events, recall one or more memories of the past, or both.”

“So I have a disease?” Mirabelle asked, completely disgusted.

“No,” “Sometimes your memory starts to come back and you can remember small events.”

Sometimes?” Mirabelle asked cautiously.

“Well…”

“Well this is absolutely fantastic. I don’t think I can remember what my own father looks like, let alone his name. And do I even have brothers and sisters? I don’t even know.”

“But I thought you said you didn’t have any sib-“

“I lied, Harry.”

Harry figured so, and he wasn’t shocked.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you couldn’t remember anything?” Harry questioned, feeling a little hurt.

“Because,” Mirabelle sighed, “I thought you would think that I was even weirder than I was with my ugly eyes, and I thought you would stop taking a liking to me.”

“Who said I like you?” Harry snorted. Mirabelle looked up with wide eyes, which were brimming with new tears.

“You don’t?” She asked seriously.

Harry laughed at her cuteness, pulling her into his chest.

“I do not think you are weird,” he chuckled. Then he leaned closer to her ear, humming out an addition. “And for the record, you’re eyes make you look gorgeous.”

Mirabelle’s heart fluttered at how Harry had emphasized “gorgeous.” Though she could not remember, she was very sure that she hadn’t even been called “good-looking” in her life. But when Harry told her, she suddenly felt as if she were on top of the world.

 



The next day, Mirabelle was quiet. She didn’t talk much, still quite worried about the news report from the day before. Harry gave her space, but quickly got bored from Mirabelle being in her room most of the day. He decided to change things the day after.

Harry easily cheered Mirabelle up by stopping by the donut shop early the next morning, bringing her home a box of donuts. She dug in happily, thanking Harry with her beautiful smile.

Harry loved seeing Mirabelle smile, and it didn’t happen often.

“Have I evah muchunnd how mush oy vov donuchs?” Mirabelle moaned, her mouth stuffed with the icing covered bread. Harry had ordered extra sprinkles for the donuts as well.

“Quite a few times, love.” Harry chuckled, rubbing his neck with a throaty laugh.

“But you know, I believe the strawberry donuts are the most delicious. “

“Are you trying to tell me something, Mirabelle?” Harry teased, winking at her.

Mirabelle rolled her eyes. “Clearly I am, or your just very stupid.”

Harry loved the way Mirabelle’s strong British accent gave her dialogue such a rich tone. Harry really liked the sound of her voice.

“We should do something fun today.” Harry suggested suddenly.

“Like what?”

“How about we go for a swim?”

Mirabelle looked at Harry as if he were crazy. “It’s cold, Harry. Very cold.”

“That’ll just make it all the better.” He winked.

“But I haven’t got a swimsuit.” Mirabelle whined.

“I may or may not have a few of my sisters left from her visits.”

“But my cut isn’t healed yet.” Mirabelle pointed out, trying to hide the real reason why she didn’t want to swim.

“Oh.” Harry said, his face dropping. “Good point.”

“Sorry.” Mirabelle sighed, pushing away her breakfast plate.

“Let’s play twenty questions, then.” Harry suggested, “Since we both know now the reasonable explanation to all your forgotten thoughts. We’ll try to jog your memory. “

“Alright.” Mirabelle answered hesitantly.

The two moved over to the large sofas, where they sat comfortably ready to work Mirabelle’s mind up.

Harry went through a series of questions, like what her room may have looked liked, to her house, to her neighborhood. He asked about possible friends, siblings, and adults guardians.

Two hours later, Harry and Mirabelle lay on the sofa, having given up and completely exhausted.

“It was worth a shot.” Harry shrugged after a while.

“Just don’t even pretend that wasn’t a waste of time.” Mirabelle groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Hey, nothing is ever a waste of time if it was done or a good purpose.” Harry protested, sitting up of the sofa. Mirabelle just sighed.

“Oh my god. I am so dumb.” Harry mumbled suddenly. Mirabelle shot him a confused look.

“I should take you bowling.” He said, sitting up straight.

“What? What is that?” Mirabelle questioned, sitting up as well.

Harry slapped his forehead. “Okay. I am definitely taking you bowling.”

Mirabelle laughed lightly. “Alright. When?”

“Now, Mirabelle. Now.” Harry laughed, getting up and pushing her towards her room.
As Harry bought two day passes for him and Mirabelle, Mirabelle stood quietly next to him, rocking back and forth on her feet. Harry smiled and handed the woman at the counter his credit card, receiving it back quickly.

“Have a nice day, you two.” The woman smiled. “By the way, you guys are an adorable couple.”

Harry watched as Mirabelle tensed at her words.

“Let’s go.” He said, as if he hadn’t heard the woman’s remark.

He took Mirabelle by the wrist and led her to an empty bowling alley, inserting some bowling balls from the shelf, into the holder.

“Alright. How do I do this?” Mirabelle giggled quietly, picking up a bowling ball.

Here. Let me show you.” Harry said. He made Mirabelle hold the ball in one hand, moving each of her fingers into an open hole in the ball.

“Now, how do I get it down the lane?” Mirabelle asked, examining the bowling ball and looking up at the bowling lane, trying to figure out how they were in relation. Harry chuckled.

“I guess I’ll show you that, too.”

They both made their way up to the area where the wood floor met the slick bowling lane. Without a second thought, Harry got behind Mirabelle and pressed his body against hers, holding the base of the ball that she held.

“Now, take your hand back like this,” he instructed, moving her arm back with the motion of his. “And then let it slide.” He added, both Mirabelle and Harry letting go off the ball. The bowling ball rolled straight through the middle pin, giving them a strike.

“Nice job!” Harry cheered, giving Mirabelle a high-five. “Now you try yourself.”

Mirabelle grabbed another ball, repeating the actions just as Harry had taught her.

Her ball rolled straight into the gutter.

“I’m no good at this.” She said immediately.

“Hey now. Don’t give up that quick. Trust me, it will get better.”

Mirabelle sighed but grabbed yet another ball, preparing to fail yet again.

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