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?


4. Remember

“So, Mirabelle, where are you from?” Harry asked, shoving his hands into the pockets on his jeans.

Mirabelle bit the inside of her cheek.

I don’t know, Harry.

“I…Don’t like to talk about it.”

Harry frowned, seeing this as a little strange.

“Well, do you have any siblings?” Harry asked, instead.

I don’t know, Mirabelle thought. The voice in her became more fierce by each question she didn’t know the answer to.

“No.” she lied. She didn’t want Harry to know that she couldn’t remember any of these things.

“Ah. I’ve got one older sister. She can be quite a pain, but I love her.” Harry conversed. Mirabelle nodded, trying to look interested.

“What’s your favorite color? Movie? Food?” Harry went on, desperate to start a conversation. Mirabelle was frustrated.

“I don’t know, Harry!” she exclaimed suddenly, wishing instantly that she hadn’t said that.

“What? How do you not know your favorite color?” he smirked, adjusting his jacket.

“I…I just, like all colors.” She shrugged, trying to calm down. Her breaths turned short and she felt her ears burning.

“Mirabelle, is everything okay?”

Mirabelle stopped on the trail they were on, which circled the park.

“I’m fine.”

Harry wasn’t convinced.

“Let’s learn some stuff about you.” Mirabelle spoke cheerfully. “What is your favorite color?”

Harry grinned. “Orange.”


“Love Actually. Don’t laugh.” He said seriously. Mirabelle guessed that Love Actually was not a movie that a boy was supposed to enjoy.


“Well, I like fruit. But tacos are my favorite.” Harry answered, glancing at Mirabelle.

“What’s your dream job?” Mirabelle asked. Harry became tense. He didn’t know if he should tell Mirabelle that he was famous, just yet.

“To be a singer.” Harry answered. Little d Mirabelle know that Harry was already doing his dream job.

“I think… I think I’d like to be a doctor.” Mirabelle said, trying to make something up. She was sure that she had never even thought of being a doctor.

But of course, she couldn’t remember.

“Do you like kids?” Harry asked, the both of them shivering slightly as a rush of wind passed them.

“Quite so. But they can be annoying.” Mirabelle smiled, giggling softly.

“One day, you should meet my hair stylist’s daughter. You would love her.” Harry grinned at the thought of baby Lux.

“Wait. You have you own stylist?” Mirabelle asked, suddenly wondering how he could afford such a luxurious house and amazing utilities, including a hair stylist. Harry’s face flushed.

“I mean, she is the one I go to when I need a haircut. We’re pretty close.” Harry shrugged, nodding convincingly. Mirabelle smirked.

“So you’re one of those boys who care a lot about their hair?”

Harry blushed, shaking his head.

“No.” He hesitated. “It’s just hard to keep these curls tamed.” He said, shaking his head full of curls. Mirabelle slipped her hands into the pockets of Harry’s hoodie, inhaling the lingering scent of Harry. It made her a bit dizzy, but a good dizzy.

“Is it always this cold?” she asked, licking her lips to get rid of the cracks that were forming.
“Most of the time.” Harry answered. He was confused. From the looks of Mirabelle yesterday, it looked like she had walked to the city of London. But what he didn’t understand was how she could’ve survived if she had been through such a journey with the freezing cold weather.


“Yes, Mirabelle?” Harry responded, his lips beginning to numb.

“Why are you acting as if we have known each other for a life time, when we only met yesterday?” She asked, her sincere voice breaking Harry’s heart. At the same time, Harry loved how proper Mirabelle’s choice of wording was. She seemed to be so perfect in every way.

Well, you looked like you needed help, and you’re quite fit, Harry wanted to say.

“Because, you seemed different.” he replied instead, turning his head to give her a cheeky smile.

“Different isn’t always good, though.” She said, rubbing her arms.

“But it’s not always bad either. And hey, everyone needs some ‘unique’ in their lives once in a while.” He encouraged, rubbing her back. For once, Mirabelle didn’t flinch, or jump away at his touch. Instead, she decided Harry made her feel safe.

Safe, from whatever she wasn’t safe from.

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