Indifferent ↠ h.s

After being followed home by a strange man, nineteen-year-old Aubrey Leanne accidentally bumps into Harry Styles. Harry quickly takes an interest in her, but little does he know that she has secrets... And a dangerous past that follows her wherever she goes. The drama had slowed down for a few years, but as soon as Aubrey steps into a life with Harry, everything goes into full bloom again.

Indifferent © happyharryblogger / ivy xx
No translations or reposts
All Rights Reserved
2015 - Present



4. T W O

It takes me a moment to compose myself.

There's something about those eyes, those bright green eyes, that pulls me in. I can't see the rest of his face; there's very little light to see anything. Somehow, though, the clouded moonlight made its way through just in time.

Just as I'm about to apologize for intruding, I watch his soft lips move very slowly. No sound comes out.

I blink hard and realize the cold breeze blowing against me. I shiver and try to collect all the warmth I can, despite the lack of.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said..." My voice trails off at the same moment I realize my sunglasses and scarf have fallen off. Shit.

Quickly, I bite my lip and turn away from him to hide my face. I use the time to quickly tie up my hair and cover my face before he grows to recognize my appearance.

"Are you okay?" He asks me, taking his time to pronounce the three words in his thick accent.

I try my best not to cough as he unintentionally blows cigarette smoke in my direction.

It takes me a moment to pull myself together again.

"Uhm, yea," I say shyly. "Well, no, not really. I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean t-to intrude..." I shiver.

The details of the previous day come flow into my mind. Before I know it, I fall back to the ground and begin to hyperventilate.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The British boy asks me.

I put my head into my hands and just shake, silently saying no. Sobs escape my mouth in front of this stranger.

"Hey there, it's okay," he speaks softly, trying to calm me. When he sees that I flinched at his touch, he immediately pulls his arm away. "Come to the porch and you'll feel better. I can get you a blanket and a warm drink."

"I really don't mean to bother you... I was just trying... I needed to get... I can't let him fi-" My voice breaks and I begin to sob harder into my arms.

The strange boy holds out his hand for me, and oddly, I take it without a second thought. After years of being unable to trust anyone, somehow, I was able to trust this stranger after less than a conversation.

After I stand up, I sniffle quietly and rub the makeup under my eyes. It probably just smudged it and made me look worse, but I couldn't care less at the moment.

He pulls me into a hug, and sparkles fly through my body.

Who is he?

And what is he doing to me?

I'd never ever in my life think of touching a strange man, let alone hug one... Definitely not ones I've known for such little time.

The boy turns around and begins walking away from me. I would've followed him if not for the fact that I'm stunned, and I can't see anything further than a foot in front of me. I'm a klutz; darkness doesn't help me.

The porch light flickers on quickly,
causing me to squint my eyes. They slowly adjust before I walk forward.

I look up to see a small wooden deck branching off from the brick building. It's very cozy; there's a small fire pit in the centre of two cushioned couches. Above it is a small green umbrella to keep the rain away.

I pick up my shopping bags which are surprisingly not damaged. Taking small, steady steps, I eventually make my way to the porch where the boy sits.

He sinks down against the bricks before bringing the half-used cigarette to his lips. He inhales, is silent for a moment, then exhales a large cloud of smoke. The toke nearly finishes off the poison stick.

"You really shouldn't do that, you know," I quietly scold him through cracked lips. He doesn't look up at me; he seems to be hiding from me. All I know was that this boy is shy, and he had beautiful green eyes. I don't know what colour his hair was, I don't know how long it was, I don't even know his name, for God's sake. He's hiding behind a cigarette and a dark grey beanie.

He exhales another puff of smoke before speaking.

"And, why is that?"

"Those things kill," I say quietly.

I walk up and sit down next to him. The wind whistles again as I extend my arm, silently asking for one myself. A cigarette, that is.

He raises his eyebrows before speaking up. "I thought you just said it was bad for you?"

"...I-I can be a hypocrite, and I really need to relax right now."

He pulls out a pack from the pocket of his black hoodie before tossing me a poison stick. I raise it to my lips and watch as he lights it for me.

I inhale deeply, letting the aroma settle in my lungs before breathing out. It's been a long time since I'd last smoked.

Exhaling, I sigh and try to get my mind off of the man following me. He is going to be a problem once again... I can't hide forever. Or can I? He's either out there waiting for me, or he went away but with another plan in mind. Either way, I'm screwed.

After a few minutes of silence, he coughs and meets my eyes. I really do feel like I know those eyes.

"How old are you?" He asks me.

"Dix-neuf." I pray he doesn't understand french.

"Tu parles en français, n'est-ce pas?"

"Well, you are in Canada... And we're not too far from Québec."

The wind blows in my direction, causing shivers to wrack through my small body.

"Are you cold?"

I slowly nod. Before I can protest, he's already out of his seat and opening the door to the building. Sitting up, I move over to the outdoor couch and put my cigarette out on a glass plate. I sit down on one of the couches, drop my bags, and bring my knees up to my chest, cradling myself.

Sooner than I thought, the boy is opening the sliding door again. This time, he has a thick black blanket hauled over his shoulder. I watch closely as he walks up to me.

"You really didn't need to do that, -" I mumble, not knowing his name. He clues in quick enough as he speaks.

"Haz. You can call me Haz."

"Okay, well, you really didn't need to do that, Haz," I speak softly.

He hands me the blanket and I'm quick to cover myself with it, despite telling him I didn't need it.

Haz sits down on the couch across the firepit. Leaning over with his lighter, the fire pit quickly fills with warm flames. They lick the oxygen and leave smoke in the air above us.

"Thank you..." I lead off. He is being so kind, and yet I have no clue who he is. I literally jumped into his backyard and he was kind enough to take care of me without an explanation.

"Please, don't worry about it." Haz's accent was very strong as he said 'worry'. "I do have one question though," He continues.

"Are you okay?"

I didn't expect him to ask me that. I thought he was at least ask me why I was here, or what was scaring me so much. Why I was in a stranger's backyard at midnight. I was spending my time preparing answers for those in my head, yet, I don't have an answer for him.

"Yea," I lie.

"Look, I'm sorry for intruding, I really didn't -"

"Shhh. Stop apologizing, please. It's no big deal."

I sigh and pull my bandana off, as if I feel like he deserves to know what I look like. My brown curls fall from my head and I tuck them behind my ear.

"My name is Lea," I say, pausing to sigh.

"Today, I was out shopping with a friend... and then I n-noticed a man was following me," I exhale.

"I tried to lose him in this maze of alleys but he caught me in this lovely blocked off area you have here."

I look up to him and catch myself falling straight into the depths of his eyes again. Wow... they're so beautiful.

Without saying anything, he pulls off his beanie to reveal a mop of long, messy curls. They frame his face very nicely. It was then that the pieces fell into place...

Curly, brown hair. Green eyes. Gorgeous jawline. He could sing; I heard him softly singing to himself before he went inside the house.

I remember seeing the headliners at the newspaper stands today. 3/5 One Direction members in town for a small break. That was where I recognized him from; he was one of the boys from One Direction. Wasn't he?

I find myself wanting to ask. He peers cautiously at me, as if he knows I'm dying to ask, or if I'm going to jump up and down, screaming.

But really, what would that achieve either of us? If anything, it would cause fans to come running, my stalker would find me, or I could even be brought into the spotlight if the paparazzi found the two of us.

Oh God, what have I gotten myself into. I jumped into the backyard of one of the world's biggest heartthrobs. Publicity would kill me and it would probably bring this boy into it with me.

He's still staring alertly at me.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" I ask him curiously, meeting his eyes. He truly is an attractive man.

"I'm just waiting for you to clue in..." Haz trails off quietly. So, he really does expect me to scream and go nuts.

"Would you feel better if I jumped up and down, screaming? Frankly, I don't think that would do either of us any good." His jaw slightly parts as he tries to find something to say. Instead, he simply nods.

"Is there any way I could get out of here soon? Like, a gate leading to the streets?" The wind ruffles my hair for the millionth time tonight. Warmth is finally filling my body from the blanket covering me.

Haz sighs and checks his phone before replying.

"Unfortunately, it appears not. The only way is through the front, and there's still a crowd of fans and paparazzi waiting for one of us to show."

"'One of us'?" I question quietly. "I'm sorry, I'm not really too familiar with your... band, or whatever you'd like to call it." He probably thinks I lived under a rock.

"There are 4 of us staying here for a while. Technically, this is supposedly my place, but I'm sharing it with them right now. Two of them share the floor above us."

I'm still getting used to his beautiful accent.

"Hey, what's your full name?"

He looks surprised, as if he thought I know everything about him.

"Harry Styles, love," he says, giving a small smile. "Staying with me are Niall, Louis, and Zayn."

I slowly nod. My eyes droop from lack of sleep; Josh had actually been incorrect when he said I had a good sleep last night. I spent the majority of the night tossing and turning, or having nightmares of my past. For the first time in two years, they came back to haunt me.

"So... If I can't get out the front, and I can't find my way back from out there..."

"You're going to have to stay the night, and we can leave in the morning. I can bring you back to your place without fans or paparazzi bothering you," Harry tells me. I sigh in frustration.

"I really did screw up here, didn't I?" I ask myself hypothetically. Harry seems uneasy in his seat, ready to jump at a moments' notice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I probably led a stalker to your house. And now, all of my problems are going to fall onto you. Not only that, but if pictures of me get leaked, my problems will get magnified by a hell of a lot." I sigh into the blanket, watching him shake his head.

"No, you didn't screw up. I have security, remember? And I can have someone stay with you until whatever's going on gets cleared up, if you'd like."

I nod and lay my head down against my knees, closing my eyes without even realizing it. Harry mumbles something but I don't hear him.


"Come inside and I can get you set up in one of the guest bedrooms. You need some sleep." He smiles smugly.

I nod, pick up my bags again, and follow him as he stands up and walks into the kitchen.

His place is gorgeous and very open. The floors are a dark oak, stripped and ancient, yet beautiful in its own way. The cupboards are a shade lighter than the floors.

The living room is directly across the kitchen, only two small steps down are seperating them. Between the middle of a white couch and loveseat lays a beautiful glass table, and across that is a gorgeous gas fireplace. Upon the mantel is a large flatscreen and an XBox console.

Harry leads me down a hallway consisting of 6 rooms, and one at the end of the hallway. Painting after painting are hung upon the walls. Then, we both stop at the last door on the left. He opens it for me and watches my reaction as I step into paradise.

"This is a guest bedroom?! You'd think it'd be the master extension..." I mutter, obviously surprised.

The room fits the same theme as the living room, except a fluffy white rug lays beneath a large queen sized bed adjacent from the door. The bed is extremely elegant; carved wooden poles stretch up to the ceiling. Draped over those are curtains of white silk and lace.

Holy shit. He has money. A lot of money.

I walk over to the bed before collapsing onto it, bags still in hand. Harry silently leaves the room, giving me time to escape into the abyss.

The last thing I remember is watching the curtains sway near me.


Author's Note: Hey guys! Just to clear some stuff up, in this story, it's the year 2015, but Zayn never actually left the band. And, dix-neuf means nineteen in french.

Thanks for reading!

Please take a second to vote and comment! :)

- Ivy

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