Ready to Run - Harry Styles AU

Jamie was reckless. She didn't care anymore. About anything. Anything and everything was overrated in her opinion. One night of vandalizing the car of a certain Styles sets her life into the rollercoaster of emotions she desperately wanted to avoid. It's only starting to ascend the first hill. *TRIGGER WARNING*


6. Chapter 6

Jamie's POV

There they were. The woman with strawberry blonde hair and the man with chestnut locks. The woman with the warmest smile and the man with the strongest laugh. They stood next to each other by the Christmas tree, the man's hand around the woman's waist. They looked so happy, cracking jokes and exchanging presents. A smaller girl walked briskly past them, ignoring their calls for her. She then paused at the stairs and told the parents she needed a ride to her friend's house. She would not be spending Christmas Day with them. The two adults sighed but complied, knowing that their little girl was just going through a phase.

In the car, the girl pushed her headphones in her ears and looked out the window, only answering with short phrases when asked a question. With heavy hearts and pain clearly expressed in their eyes, the couple smiled anyway. And there it was. A bright red Mustang, speeding across the road like the driver had no care in the world. The car swerved from side to side. The family didn't notice as they continued across the green light. From there, that was when the little girl's world crashed around her, when everything she realized she loved was now gone. She now understood the saying, "you never know how much something means to you until it’s gone."

Nobody knew her pain, the absolute heartbreak she felt when she looked through tears at the two banged up cars, knowing her beloved parents' bodies were burning in there. Nobody understood the anger she felt at that other driver, how she relished in the fact that he was now dead too even though she knew it was schizophrenic and wrong. It was a distant memory now, the flames only a haze of red and orange. But she could never forget it, never forget the traumatic experience she had to go through and the possibly even more traumatic experience of being so terribly lonely, both physically and emotionally.

"Good morning!" a cheery voice woke me up from my dream. Or nightmare.

I rubbed my eyes. 

"Why are you here?" I asked groggily.

"Because... you need to wake up?"

"I could be naked here for all you know."

"But you're not."

"Yes I am." I was not.

"Prove it."

I raised an eyebrow. Harry's cheeks turned rosy pink after he realized what he said.

"N-no, never mind. Sorry," he stammered.

I laughed and threw off the covers, revealing myself in Harry's large t-shirt (he had given it to me before I went to sleep). His eyes travelled down from my face to my shaved legs, running across the length of them. I smirked and sashayed up to him, strutting slowly in a circle like a hawk around its prey. I took this moment to take in his outfit, loving the way his skinny jeans hugged his fine ass in all the right ways. His white shirt showed off his tattoos, and I realized just how many he had. His left arm was littered with them, plus 3 blurry black shapes on his front body. His right arm though, was only scarcely decorated.

I wanted to comment on this, on how good he looked right now, but I decided against it. All it would make him do was think that I was a pervert.

Instead, I said, "You're seriously not going to call the cops?"

Harry snorted. "You make it sound like you want to go to jail."

"I don't care."

The corner of his lips turned down, resting into a deep frown. "You should."

"Yet I don't."

He studied me, his eyes searching my expression for any signs of wavering.

I smiled. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to strip naked and get into my clothes. Well, technically your clothes, but they're mine now."

He rolled his eyes but shuffled out of the room, softly closing the door.

Honestly, I didn't know where my clothes went. I think Harry took them to wash. He could keep mine as long as I could keep his. Baggy and oversized clothes were cute in my opinion and these smelled nice, kind of like summertime (flowers, butterflies, sunshine and all) in a jar. Whatever cologne he uses must be amazing.

I got dressed in another pair of his sweatpants and this time, a grey Vans t-shirt. Examining my cuts again, I ran my finger over the bumps of the scabs. After I had finished brushing my teeth, I finally left my room.

I looked down the stairs, an excited grin crossing my features. I've always wanted to slide down a bannister. I hoisted myself up to sit on it, my hand grabbing it to keep me from falling. I stared down the long staircase, my heart pumping with excitement. This was the first thing close to real action I've had in days. Well, actually only 1, but it felt like a year. I loosened up my grip. I slid down easily, like I had done this many times before. Strangely, I had robbed a fucking house but have never done this. I went down faster and faster, and I felt compelled to let go as I neared the end. So I did.

I flew off the bannister, flying through the air for a second before crashing into a hard body. Harry and I fell to the floor, me in a fit of laughter and Harry worriedly asking if I needed an ambulance.

"Relax, Hairbear. I'm fine."

I sloppily kissed his cheek before pushing myself off of him and making my way to the huge kitchen. I looked out the sky roof. It was sunny today, little wisps of cloud floating across the bright blue sky. 

Harry stumbled into the kitchen, wiping my saliva off his cheek.

"Oh come on," I teased. "I know you love me and you just want to keep that kiss there foreverrrr." 

He rolled his eyes. "How'd you know?"

"I'm a genie."

"Prove it. What am I thinking of right now?"

"That's not what a genie is supposed to do," I asked, confused.


I paused as realization dawned on me. I mentally facepalmed, feeling terribly stupid. Harry burst out laughing and wrapped me in a bear hug. It was so contagious, that laugh with his sweet, milky chocolate voice, that I burst out laughing too.

The hug felt nice, almost comforting. I snuggled my head in his chest, momentarily forgetting what I was doing. Momentarily. Once sense came into me, I pulled away. Not fast enough that he would be hurt, but not slow enough that he would get the wrong idea.

"So... I should get going now. Amy'll be waiting for me," I mumbled.

"Who's Amy?"

"My best friend."

"Ohhh, the best friend that didn't bother texting you?" he smirked.

I glared at him. Amy was perfect. Well, maybe not all perfect because if she was, she'd make more of an effort to stop me, but she didn't because she cared for me. She knew if I didn't do this, if I didn't get something to distract me, I would surely do something equally as worse to myself. My scars reminded me of that. Maybe that was messed up, but our friendship was strong and we stayed loyal to each other. No matter what. Because really, we had no one else.

"Shut up, Curly," I snapped. "God, men are so stupid."

"Hey," he protested as he trailed after me to the front door. "That's rude."

"It's the truth. The truth is rude."

Again, there came that stare. I didn't understand what it was. This time, though, I could make out a bit of curiosity and pity. Like always. Pity the poor rebel Jamie because she lost her parents. I didn't need anyone's pity, and I didn't want it. It made me feel weak, and that was the last thing I wanted. I was fine; it was all I could be.

"So uh... bye," I said awkwardly. Was I supposed to give him hug? I was never good at goodbyes, unlike Sam Smith.

"Can I uh, have your number?"

That made me double over, laughing my ass off. Harry looked at me, confusion and rejection showing in his perfect features.

"After all I've done, you want to stay in touch?" I explained, wiping a tear from my eye. I found this extremely funny.

He chuckled in relief. "Sure. We are friends, right?"

"I don't know. Do you want to be?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed eagerly, his eyes shining with hope before he masked it with a cool face.

And now he wants to be friends. What an absolute idiot. He doesn't know what he's getting into.

"Okay. Give me your phone."

I added my contact. Too tired to come up with something witty, I just put my name as Jamie.

He held his arms out. It took me a few awkward seconds to know what it meant. Still, I just stared at him, astonished that someone wanted my touch. His arms came down, his dimples fading along with his smile.

"Bye," I quickly said before whipping open the door and bolting away, not even bothering to close it.

Harry's POV

I've never liked troublemakers. I've always stayed away from them. But Jamie... she was a different story. She was annoying, frustrating, confusing, and insane, but she was also funny, ridiculous, sarcastic, and even nice if you looked deep enough. She had an alluring aura around her. From the way she looked to the way she spoke, it was enchanting. It cast a spell on me and it was near to impossible to get out. I could feel it through my bones. I needed to unravel the mysteries under those brooding hazel eyes of hers, discover every nook and cranny of her until there were traces of me left everywhere. And I knew it was selfish of me, to want to have nothing left of her un-searched and nothing left of her to be kept secret, especially since I hated when people tried to pry into my private life, but the desire coursing through my very blood and the tingle through my bones would not allow me to stop until I've reached that goal.

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