In Transit

When Mason meets a mysterious guy at a club and goes home with him, she doesn’t ever expect to see him again. But when their paths cross again two years later, they both instantly feel the undeniable force between them. Mason is desperate to forget the demons of her past, while Harry lives a life fighting off his own. But after a life-changing revelation, he is determined to free them once and for all, and hopes he can help Mason in the same way she has helped him.

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2. Two

January 2018

 

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” The whole group chanted as they watched the New Year’s ball in Times Square drop on the television screen.

The house erupted in applause and couples all around could be seen kissing and ringing in another year together. Mason’s eyes were fixated on him – on the way he so easily faked his happiness. His lips were pressed tightly against Casey’s as she giggled against his mouth. He was going through the motions. He’d been doing it since she met him. Harry Styles was a great actor – everyone in his life thought the person he came off as was an accurate portrayal of who he really was. Mason was the only one who knew the real Harry – the sad broken man he was.

Mason slipped out of the house not long after midnight, catching a cab back to her apartment. She was never much for celebration. The only reason she was there was for him. The only reason she stayed in her circle of friends was for him. It was always for him. Because when she had him, she didn’t have to pretend. When she had him she could be herself and they could be broken together.

It was just a little past one when she received a text message from him informing her he was on his way over. It always made her wonder how he got away so easily all the time with a girl like Casey on his arm. But for an entire year he managed to meet her late at night – or in the morning, or afternoon. For an entire year they managed not to get caught by anyone. 

“How were you able to get away?” Mason asked him as they both began quickly pulling all the clothing from their bodies once he got to her place.

“She passed out not long after the ball dropped,” he explained as he pushed his jeans down his legs.

“Lucky for us,” Mason said, tossing her bra onto the floor.

They didn’t talk much – especially when they were in these situations. And they managed to say even less to each other when they were with their friends. But she still felt like she knew him better than anyone else in her life – and frankly, she didn’t know him at all. She didn’t know his dark secrets. She just knew he had them. She accepted that about him the same way he accepted hers.

Harry’s arm wrapped around the small of her back as his lips pressed firmly and hungered against hers. She was still trying to push her panties down, but he was eager. He pulled her body tightly against his before tossing her backwards onto her mattress, crawling up her nearly naked frame. He was exceptionally feisty as his lips aggressively connected with the sensitive skin of her neck; his hands unapologetically groped at her flesh. When his mouth came back up to hers, she could taste the alcohol on his tongue and she knew his inhibitions were lowered.

It never failed – Harry always got this way when he drank. It was like his life spiraled out of control when he was impaired. It made her wonder why he even did it, if it seemed like he couldn’t handle whatever was weighing him down. But then she remembered he always had her as an option to lose himself in. She was safety to him.

Harry didn’t waste any time pulling off her panties with an aggressive tug – he was determined. His eyes were dark and his jaw was clenched tightly and Mason knew things weren’t satisfactory in his world.

“Rough, Harry. Give it to me rough,” she panted, knowing he needed to release some pent-up aggression. She was willing to be his outlet because he never failed her when she needed him.

It took him no time at all to thrust deeply inside of her, causing her to throw her head back as she cried out. Her fingers dug into his flesh as a sharp pain hit her hard. But as he began pumping in and out, the pain turned into a dull ache, until it just wasn’t there anymore. The faster he went, the more the pleasure built inside of her, causing her to moan loudly. Harry’s grunts were almost savage as his hands gripped onto her thighs tight enough to cause bruising. Just as she felt the makings of orgasm, Harry thrust one last time, emptying himself completely with a low groan from deep within him. Mason wasn’t even mad. It was about him – for him anyway. They never played the “I got off, now you get off” game. It was what it was and they were okay with it.

Harry hovered above her, his face lost from her point of view. She could hear and feel his heavy breaths whirring past her ear as he tried to control his breathing. He was worked up over something. But it wasn’t her place to ask. She was there for one thing and she did her part. 

Harry slowly pulled himself up and out of her, turning his back to her as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Mason laid there looking up at the ceiling in the silence that surrounded them. It wasn’t like she didn’t care what was bothering him – she cared too much. It was just, they had this unspoken agreement with each other and she wasn’t going to be the one to break it. She needed him too much.

Mason watched as Harry replaced his clothing one-by-one and threw on his jacket before even putting on his shoes. She sat up, ready for him to say goodnight, but he didn’t. He walked to her window, opened it, and disappearing through the small opening out onto the fire escape, shoeless.

Mason gathered up the blanket off of her bed and wrapped herself in it before she walked to the window. Harry was perched against the ladder, taking a hit off a small joint.

“Puff-puff pass, man,” Mason told him, holding out her hand as she slipped out onto the fire escape with him. Harry chuckled lightly, passing the joint to her, his eyes already heavily lidded.

“Your feet are bare,” he stated, looking down as her toes curled under in the frigid temperatures.

“It’s alright,” she said with a shrug as she sucked in a puff from the joint.

“Here. Come here,” he said, gripping onto her shoulders, maneuvering her so she could sit on the slanted ladder.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as she passed the joint back to him.

“Sure,” he said, looking off into the distance as he took another hit.

Even from where she lived, they could still hear the crowd of people screaming and cheering in Times Square. Everyone seemed to be having a better night than either one of them. 

Mason’s eyes found Harry as his own eyes trailed a police car screeching into the night down her street. She watched everything he did, wondering what set him off on this particular night. She never knew, so she was always left guessing. She knew he didn’t really love Casey – that he was just seeing her to keep up appearances. His mood could easily have been about her. Harry was an incredible actor. He had everyone fooled into thinking he was actually happy. Mason just wished she knew what it was that made him so sad.

The two of them finished the joint and Mason could feel the effects of it right away.

“Hmm…” She hummed, closing her eyes, feeling weightless. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and she could feel the blood flowing through her veins. She felt miles away and sometimes that was what she needed.

“Are you naked under there?” Harry asked as she felt his cold hands snake into the blanket.

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, nodding her head as she opened her eyes to see him standing in front of her so close.

She felt his hips against her knees and she automatically opened her legs for him to slip between them. His hands glided over the bare skin of her breasts, hardening her nipples immediately. His cold fingers were creating goose bumps all across her body and her craving for him grew, the need having not been satisfied before. He rarely hung around after their impromptu fucks, so it was all new to her. Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone on New Year’s.

Harry’s head tilted in and kissed her lips lightly as his hands played with her breasts. It was so intimate and so unlike him.

“I hope you know it kills me to see a girl like you so sad, Mason,” he breathed against her lips.

She didn’t know how to respond. She just blinked up at him, wishing sadness was something that could come and go. Instead she was wrapped up in it like a cocoon.

“Come on. Let me help you forget,” he offered, grabbing her hand in his.

Mason’s breathing hitched in her throat, because she never told him what he did for her that first time – and every other time they were together since. She only mentioned to him just that once that she was trying to forget. The fact that he recalled something like that from three years ago was an absolute mind-fuck to her, and she was in awe of him.

 

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