Wednesday had spent the past two days since her confrontation with Harry doing everything she could do to not think about it. She'd drove the whole family to the Peak District the day after for some fresh air and hilly views, helping her grandparents along the easy pathways whilst the others roamed ahead. On the night-time she'd taken the train with Isla to the Manchester Christmas markets, catching up on her 16-year-old cousin's life drama and remembering the easiness of being a teenager whose only issue was which boy would be asking her to prom.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, she'd met up with her girlfriends from school on their annual holiday meeting. Every year, she marvelled on the fact that they really didn't have much in common anymore, apart from their shared secondary school experience, but it was still comforting and fun to catch-up, swapping stories from their lives. They'd asked about Harry and she'd quickly mumbled something along the lines of 'he's okay' before changing the subject.

Later that afternoon, she found herself sat on the sofa, mindlessly flicking through bad Christmas TV movies as the rest of the house seemed to be getting ready. Or, in the case of her grandfather, napping.

Her mum came into the room ten minutes later, putting her earrings in as she looked down at Wednesday with drawn together eyebrows.

"Are you going to start getting ready Nessie? Anne's party starts soon."

Anne's Christmas Eve party was always the most fun and talked about event in the whole of Holmes Chapel every year. As well as the entire Styles family, neighbours from streets away were invited, as well as Anne's friends and their children. There were always so many people invited that usually the house was jam packed, full of mingling guests and Wednesday loved going every year—if not just for the free booze. This year however, she was much more reluctant to attend due to the certain appearance of one Harry Styles.

Wednesday sighed, turning down the TV volume as she looked up to her mum.

"I don't really feel like going tonight."

"Why?" her mum asked, shock lacing her voice.

Wednesday shrugged, looking back to the TV.

"Just don't," she mumbled, turning the volume back up and crossing her arms, slouching into the sofa.

After a few seconds, her mum crossed in front of her to the TV and turned it off, turning to Wednesday with a stern expression as she let out a whine.

"I was watching that!" Wednesday moaned, looking up to her and swallowing when she saw her mum's face.

"Has something happened between you and Harry?" she asked, tapping her foot. "Is that why he hasn't been around once yet?"

Wednesday ignored her, looking away and sinking further into the couch.

"Wednesday Rose Green,"—she winced at her mum's use of her full name; it was never a good sign—"I asked you a question."

Sighing, she looked down to her fingers, picking at the skin around her nails.

"We...had an argument."

"About what? You two never argue," her mum replied with a confused tone.

Wednesday shrugged, biting her cheek. "You wouldn't get it."

"Try me," her mum stated as her nanna wandered into the room upon hearing the speaking, standing by the door.

"What's with all the commotion?" she asked, looking between the arguing mother and daughter.

"Wednesday doesn't want to go to the party tonight because her and Harry are arguing," Jane responded, rolling her eyes.

Her nanna looked down at her with crinkled eyes, inching closer to her granddaughter.

"What are you two arguing about dear?" she asked sweetly, and Wednesday knew she was the one person who could get her to open up about anything.

"I found out that he'd been lying to me about...something...for the past few months," she replied quietly, not looking up.

"What was he lying about?" her mum implored curiously, almost with a tone of disbelief that Harry Edward Styles could ever do something like lie.

Wednesday sighed, looking to her nanna. "He's been sleeping with the band's pianist and not told me—not told any of us this whole time."

"Oh Wednesday," Jane sighed, pinching her nose and looking down to her daughter. "He's a grown man. He can sleep with whoever he likes. I know you two are best friends, but he doesn't need to tell you every single thing happening in his life!"

"I never said he should!" Wednesday fired back, starting to get annoyed once more. "He can sleep with whoever he wants. But maybe not the girl we all have to work and live with in the coming 18 months. It's unprofessional."

"I think you're right Nessie," her nanna nodded. She knew she was her favourite grandparent for a reason. "He shouldn't have lied or snuck about behind everyone's back. It's not nice."

"Thank you, nanna," Wednesday smiled, looking to her mum with an I-told-you-so expression.

"But," she added, making Wednesday look back to her quickly. "That doesn't mean you can sit around here and sulk all day. So, get your backside upstairs and get ready. Its Christmas, a time for happiness and family and friends. There's no time for being a negative Nancy."

Wednesday hated that she knew her nanna was right. Looking between her mum and nanna, she got up with a sigh and traipsed upstairs. After 30 minutes, she was ready; she'd opted for a silk skirt and jumper combo, paired with her trusty doc martins and put on a whole face of makeup.

Going down the stairs, she met the rest of her family, equally dressed up and ready to leave. She smiled at her grandad, who'd slicked his hair over and was wearing his favourite checked dickie bow.

"You look great grandad," she grinned, taking his arm. "You too nanna, you look lovely."

She guided them both out of the house, arm in arm. They walked slowly down the road, Wednesday's nerves building as they got closer. She hadn't even seen Anne or Gemma yet, realising that in the process of ignoring Harry, they'd both been caught in the crossfire too. She silently hoped they didn't think she was ignoring them or selfish for not turning up to see them beforehand.

After a short five minutes, they arrived outside the house and Christmas songs and voices could already be heard from the inside. Jane walked forward, knocking on the door for them all and Wednesday turned to see Isla biting her lip, a nervous look on her face full of anticipation at seeing the Harry Styles. She'd met him once before, a few years previously after a One Direction concert, but it seemed her love and admiration of him had only grown tenfold in the years that had passed.

The door opened to reveal Anne's face and she smiled down at them all, saying her ecstatic hellos. She hugged Jane and Helen, before bending down to kiss both her grandad and nanna on the cheeks, asking how they were, before rounding on Wednesday and pulling her in for a hug.

"And where have you been hiding away at?" she asked with a smile, kissing her on the cheek. "I've been waiting for you to come around, and raid my fridge, like you usually do!"

"Sorry, I've been busy," she lied, plastering a wide smile, before stepping aside and showing her cousin. "This is my cousin, Isla. I think you've met her before."

"Yes, of course. Come on in Isla and make yourself at home love."

She closed the door behind them, and Wednesday looked around the crowded house for Harry's face, not spotting him, whilst the sound of 'Fairtytale of New York' drifted through the air. Friends and distant relatives of the Styles that she vaguely knew were dotted everywhere and she whispered her hellos to them as she walked behind the rest of her family, going through to the kitchen.

The last to walk through the doorway, she first spotted Gemma leant against the counter with her boyfriend as her mum went over to greet her and kiss her on the cheek. Then, she saw Harry's tall physique in the corner as he walked towards her grandparents, his eyes twinkling as he stared down at her nanna.

"There's my toy boy," her nanna laughed, reaching her hands up to hug him and he comically leant down to wrap his arms around her, a grin on his face as he hugged her tightly.

"Take her Harry, she's too much for me," her grandad laughed, and Harry unwrapped one of his arms to shake his hand, laughing along with him.

"Don't say that because I will," he joked back, leaning up and looking down to her with that charming expression he always knew worked in his favour. "How are you doing Dorothy?"

"Well, my backs gone, and my memory is going too, but I'm better after seeing your handsome face," she smiled, placing her hand up and tenderly gripping his cheek.

Wednesday forgot her own anger for a second and watched the sweet interaction with a small smile. That was until Harry looked over at her and she quickly turned her attention to Gemma, walking over and giving her a hug.

"Merry Christmas," she smiled at her and her boyfriend, pushing her hair behind her ear nervously.

"Go on then," Gemma smiled knowingly, looking to Wednesday.

"What?" she replied, unsure of where she was going with the conversation but certain it was probably something to do with Harry.

"What's my idiot brother done? Every time we've mentioned you in the past few days, he's gone quiet. And you haven't been over to ours once yet since coming back, which is unheard of."

Wednesday forced a smile at her, shuffling on her feet uncomfortably. No matter how angry she got at Harry, she would never betray his secrets to anyone. It wasn't her place to discuss his private life, especially with his own family.

"It's nothing, we uh...we just had a little disagreement before coming. That's all. Still need to sort it out," she answered, forcing a reassuring smile as Gemma shook her head.

"Well, I'd put my money on it being his fault. But anyway, enough of that. Do you want a drink?" she asked, standing forward.

Wednesday nodded, grateful for the change in conversation. Taking the glass of champagne Gemma handed her, she made sure to not leave their little bubble for as long as possible, keeping her eye on where Harry resided to ensure her quick getaway, should he get too close. Gemma spoke about London and her job and the possibility of her and her boyfriend moving in together whilst Wednesday listened with half an ear—she kept catching Harry sidling up to her mum or auntie and she would lose focus on the conversation, huffing silently at his kiss-ass behaviour towards them. He was such a people pleaser.

After half an hour, Isla, who'd spent the entire party stood in the corner of the kitchen, eyeing Harry nervously because she was too scared to approach him and say him, sidled up to Wednesday and cautiously tapped her on the arm.

"Do you...do you think you could walk over with me...to Harry...so I can say hello?" she asked timidly.

Though it was the last thing Wednesday truthfully wanted to do, her resolve softened when she noticed Isla's shaking hands and wide hopeful eyes.

"Come on," Wednesday smiled, breathing out slowly as she linked arms with her and lead her to the other end of the room.

Stopping in front of Harry, who wore a puzzled expression at the sudden sight of her in front of him, Wednesday put her hand on Isla's back and gently pushed her forward.

"Isla, this is Harry. Harry, Isla—my cousin."

Harry's eyes left hers and he quickly plastered a wide smile, immediately going into charming Harry Styles mode.

"We've met before Isla, haven't we? After one of the bands performances?"

"Yes!" she replied excitedly, her eyes lighting up that he'd remembered. "It was after the Manchester show a few years ago."

Wednesday watched as they engaged in conversation with an awkward stance, wanting to be away from the situation.

"I'm just going to the living room," she quickly mentioned to Isla a few moments later, who nodded without even looking back at her, whilst Harry looked at her with a quick, but sad glance as she began to move away.

Topping up her glass, she moved into the living room where the activities were happening. In the middle of the floor, surrounded by various other guests watching and laughing, were Harry's cousins doing one of the dances from the Just Dance game on the TV. Seating herself next to her grandad, she smiled as she watched the hilariously bad dancing, drinking down her glass easily and conversing with the others in the room.

So far, she'd kept her contact with Harry to a limited amount and was pleased with herself. Maybe she could still have fun. But then, it wasn't long before he appeared in the doorway, watching the dancing himself with a wide grin as she tried to hide herself as far behind her grandad as possible.

After another 15 minutes or so, Anne came beside Harry, addressing the room.

"Right everyone, we've got the beer pong set up. So, who wants to go first?"

Seeing the game as her way of escaping out of the room, Wednesday stood up.

"I'll start it off."

She moved forwards, awkwardly smiling at Anne as she avoided Harry's eyes.

"Good stuff Wednesday. Harry, you can be on the other team, come on," Anne replied, patting her sons' arm.

Wednesday froze, looking back at Harry. Oh please, no. Shooting her an apologetic smile, he followed his mum into the kitchen. Wednesday sighed and walked after him, thankful that at least they were on opposing teams and she had the chance to absolutely annihilate him.

Once Anne had gathered up various other guests for the teams (Wednesday had Gemma's boyfriend and one of Harry's cousins; he had her auntie and one of his uncles), they began. Harry took the first shot and Wednesday rolled her eyes as it went in the cup perfectly; of course it had. He tried not to grin too much, but she could see the glee of getting it in first go written all over his face. Dickhead.

"Beginners luck," she mumbled to herself, picking up the generous shot and wincing as she downed it in one go, the taste of tequila making her want to wretch.

She took her shot next, avoiding Harry's gaze and missing by an inch, swearing under her breath.

Throughout the game they didn't say a word to each other, only interacting with their teammates as they took shots. But that didn't mean they didn't awkwardly lock eye contact continuously, wondering whether it was appropriate to shoot a smile at the other or just look away. After 15 minutes of play, where Wednesday had consumed the majority of shots the other team had scored and was now feeling tipsy, it came down to each team having one cup left.

Harry held the ball in his hand as he closed one eye and stuck his tongue between his lips in concentration, whilst Wednesday held her breathe and waited for the shot to be taken. Putting his hand forward, she watched as it narrowly missed the rim of the cup and let a smile come over her face.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she said excitedly as her teammates riled her up for her own shot.

"You've got this Wednesday. Calm and collected," Gemma's boyfriend said behind her.

With her lip caught between her teeth, she tried to angle the ball perfectly before closing her eyes as she threw it forwards, too nervous about missing to watch. The sound of cheers from her teammates a second later made her open her eyes and there she saw that the ball had gone in. They'd won.

"We are the champions, my friend!" her team sang behind her and she laughed as they pulled her up onto their shoulders, as everyone around watched, entertained by the commotion. Looking down to Harry, he nodded his head in defeat and shot her a small smile, before moving off to the other end of the kitchen.

Wednesday stayed and watched a few more of the games, grabbing some party food and getting increasingly louder and louder the drunker she got. She didn't mind though; everyone else seemed to be well on their way to becoming merrily drunk too. Her mum and Anne were already singing Christmas songs in the corner to themselves, giggling like schoolgirls. After a while of drinking enough to sink a ship however, nature called and Wednesday walked to the downstairs toilet, only to find it engaged. With a cautious look, she went upstairs, knowing the house as well as her own and finding the toilet quickly.

After she'd flushed and washed her hands, she opened the door to see Harry stood leaning against the bannister. She assumed he was there to use the toilet and so she awkwardly moved out of the way of the door to let him pass, but he shook his head.

"We need to sort this out Wednesday," he said to her suddenly, his voice low and gravelly. She could smell the alcohol radiating from him and knew he was at the very least tipsy. But then, so was she.

"Does it have to be tonight?" she sighed.

"Yes, it does," he replied, licking his lips before looking down to the increasing sound coming from downstairs with furrowed brows. "Come on, let's go in my room."

He walked to his door and turned, waiting for her to follow. Looking down to the party, she thought about making a run for it. But then, she remembered that she was 25 and that was definitely not something adults were meant to do. Which sucked. Hesitantly, she followed him into his childhood bedroom.

Sitting down on his bed, she placed her phone beside her and crossed her hands over her knees as he stood in front of the door, both of them silent and waiting for the other to start.

"So?" she asked, feeling the drink heightening her cynical tone.

"I've said I'm sorry Wednesday, and I am. I'm sorry for lying and not telling you about Daisy. But can we please move forward from this? I can't change what I did now, or change the way I handled everything, but I'm really trying now to apologise to you so we can just put it past us."

"But we can't put it past us," she replied coolly, her eyebrows drawn together.

"Yes we can, you know we can," Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair. His patience seemed to be thin under the alcohol.

"How can we put it past us when you will both be touring and living together for the entirety of next year? With me alongside you too?" she asked, curious as to how he would answer this one. It seemed to be something he hadn't thought about at all.

"I haven't thought about the fine details of the future Wednesday," he huffed. "I'm talking about right now, between me and you." He gestured between them.

"Well maybe, I don't want to sort it out. Maybe, I don't like the idea of being around someone who lies through his teeth," she replied with a shrug, crossing her arms.

He laughed without humour and it didn't go amiss with Wednesday that all of the regular charm and breeziness of Harry's disposition had gone and been replaced with something a bit colder.

"That's rich coming from you."

Before Wednesday could question what he meant, her phone started buzzing and ringing loudly, and she looked down to see Patricks name popping up. Quickly ending the call, she looked back to Harry to see if he'd spotted who was calling; from his irritated expression, she guessed he had.

"Of fucking course Patrick is ringing you," Harry laughed out, pinching the bridge of his nose with a painful smile.

"Patrick's got nothing to do with this situation and you know it," Wednesday snapped back.