Strawberries [AU]

She spent her days lazing in the summer sunlight, eating strawberries whilst being enveloped in a world of prose. He spent his own locked away in his flat, reading Bukowski whilst the world passed him by. When he first saw her, first talked to her, first heard her, he wondered how such a girl could be real. How a girl, who tasted like strawberries and recited lines of poetry that wrapped around his heart and sung for days could ever look at a boy like him. And he couldn't help but wonder, "could the strawberry tasting girl ever love the brooding hazel eyed boy?"


11. T E N

T E N 


Falling in love is a funny thing. You never quite realize when it's happened, nor can you plan it. Of course Harry would forever be in denial of falling in love with someone as flighty as Mia, but his keen obsession made his intentions quite obvious. Obvious even to his usually oblivious flatmate. 

Niall takes swigs from his glass bottle and looks towards the door with a smirk upon his face. He heard every fervent step Harry took as he reached the front door. Once it opened, he could hear Harry nervously mumble, "Hi."

Ever bubbly Mia responds, "Hey what's up!?" 

Niall cackles to himself, obviously pleased at Harry's discomfort. He heard as they made their way up the stairs and leaned back in his chair with his glass bottle in hand. He was ready for the show. 

Harry, had of course, let Mia in the flat without making a complete arse out of himself. At least he believed. He talked himself through every step, 'No, don't let your voice crack' and 'God, I hope she doesn't notice the rip in my pants.' And now they both stood at the counter, attempting to finish making the side dishes.

Niall watched them with a pleased look upon his face. Harry's flatmate knew what he was doing, and when he planned things he liked to do them well. In about five minutes he would feign a drunken fueled spat with Harry, and would leave the flat. Leaving the two to get to know each other better. Niall was no drunken idiot, he enjoyed his pints, but he knew how to handle his liquor as well. He wasn't an Irishman for nothing.

When Mia had called him a few weeks ago and excitedly told him about the strawberry cake she had found at a quaint little bakery, he had a hunch there was only one boy who had to have sold it to her. And when he saw his flatmate walk into their home, flushed and full of whimsy, he knew, he knew, that he had to play some part in this flourishing relationship. While he did not particularly like playing cupid, for Mia and Harry he would make the exception.

He looked up to see them already conversing and having a laugh. He didn't think it would be that difficult then, to bring them together. Although he originally believed that Mia and Harry could be close friends, he now believed they should be together.

Harry though, of course, tried to keep his cool.He was still teetering on the edge of fancy and love. He wasn't quite sure where his intentions laid with this girl, he only knew that she made him uneasy in a way that made him feel alive. 

Mia of course was miles away from any of the thoughts the boys were having. She only concentrated on making the side dishes perfectly for them, and of course was excited to eat the desert she had brought. She usually didn't linger on her thoughts for too long, and while the bakery boy was extremely appealing to her, so was the food before her.

And so, Mia continued mashing potatoes, as Niall swigged from his bottle, and Harry checked on the roast.

"Is it ready yet?" Niall bellowed.

"About twenty more minutes" Harry replies.

"It's been in the oven for an hour."

"It has not."

"It would have been ready by now if I had made it."

"Well, I didn't see you volunteering to. "

Mia looks at them and smirks. Niall takes the opportunity to update her on his current prospects, "I'm thinking of starting a band Mia. How about you be my lead singer."

"You sing?" Harry says looking at Mia.

"Obviously, she sings Harry. She joins me at every open mic night."

"You never specifically told me that she sung."

"I mentioned it."

"I don't think so."

"Then you obviously don't listen." Niall says pointedly.

"I'm more of an observer." Mia says, piping in.

"You'd be great, though." Niall says, disposing of his glass bottle.

"Do you have a name?" Mia asks.


"For the band."

"Oh, no...I don't."

Harry smirks, "I read somewhere that you can make an amazing band name combining an animal name with a force of nature."

"What in the bloody hell are you talking about?" Niall says with an ever furrowed brow.

"Oh! That sounds fun! Let me try!" Mia says smilingly, putting her spoon down and placing the bowl aside. "So an animal and force of nature?"

Harry nods, "Yeah."

"For the love of God..." Niall says rubbing his temples.

"Okay, okay. I will combine my favorite animal and my favorite type of rain."

"Okay?" Harry says, not quite sure what he's started.

"Okay. Alpaca drizzle." 

Mia says it with such an utterly serious face that Harry and Niall were unsure if she was serious or if she was joking. Harry starts laughing though, so loudly and so heartily that he couldn't stop. He was unaware that Mia had started laughing as hard as he had, if not more so. They were out of breath as Niall had gotten up from his seat, grabbed his snap back, and headed towards the door.

They could make out a mumbled, "Don't even take me fucking seriously! I want to start a band and she wants to name it Alpaca Drizzle!? Might as well name it Dingo Storm or bloody Wolf Lightening."

That only makes them laugh even louder, Harry managing to stutter, "Hey, mate, Dingo Storm sounds ace. Even I'd be a part of that band!"

Mia bends over, her ribs hurting from the laughter and Harry tries so hard to compose himself, but he cannot. By the time they start to simmer down, and their laughter turns into hiccuped giggles, they notice that Niall had left. 

"You think we pushed him too far?" Mia asks, a smirk still very apparent upon her face.

"Nah. He knows we were playing."

"Hey, Harry?"


Mia looks at him head on, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"I was having a real shit day, and I think that's the first real laugh I've had in a long time."

Harry thinks back to the moments when he had pondered his smile, whether it was genuine or not, and realizes that...this was genuine. The laughter, the smiles, the chuckles, everything around her was genuine.

"No problem."

She smiles at him and he can feel himself flush. "What?" He asks, having to break eye contact.

"Nothing." She shakes her head, if she had learned anything it was that you couldn't rush these things. If she wanted to stay beside him, she would have to wait. She didn't want to ruin what they had, even if the bakery boy made her heart feel as if it were about to fall out of her chest, and gave her stomach so many butterflies it could rival the exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. She wanted to remain by his side for as long as she could, and she didn't know if the love she had for him would be the same he had for her. Sure, he was bashful and he was nervous. He had shown all the same signs previous suitors had shown, but Amelia didn't want him to be a frivolous boy who had left her life as soon as he had made an appearance. No. Somehow she knew he was meant to be more than that. 

And that, more than anything, was worth the wait. 

Harry though of course, had seen the sparkle in her eye. He knew he had seen it. And as the electric currents filled the small quarters they resided in, he knew that sooner than later she would be his. 

He was going to make her his strawberry girl. Not only in the world he had written, but in the one he had once so passively resided in. He was ready. He was fucking ready. 



"You want to go out sometime?"

"Go out where?"

He swallowed roughly, he hadn't thought it out this far. He barely thought he would be able to mutter out the phrase, much less actually plan out a real date.


She smiles, "I have an idea."



"What is it?"

"You'll find out tomorrow, at noon?"



"What are we doing."

She shrugs, grabbing bowls and placing them upon the kitchen table before turning to face him, "Do you trust me?"


"You heard me."

He ponders the thought, but only for a mere second. It was madness, he knew, to trust a girl he barely knew. But he did. He trusted her. He would let her lead him to the ends of the Earth if  that was what she so desired to do.

"Yeah...yeah I do."

To the ends of the fucking Earth. If she would be his ruin, then he would happily take her hand and jump off any cliff. If this was the end, then he was excited to begin it. 

The beginning of the end. How incredibly cliched. But then, how morbid to think of a flourishing relationship in that way. Then again, Harry had never been the best at the whole "I'm in love" bushiness. Of course it could mark the beginning of the end for him, because he was quite sure that he would lose himself in the midst of loving her. But then, losing himself wasn't a bad thing. 

It just meant he would start over, he would make a new world. And this time, the beginning would be with her. The end would be with her. Everything would be with her.

He was sure of it. 


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