Grabbing the bowl of salted popcorn, Wednesday sat down on the sofa, turning up the volume on the TV. She took a handful, ungraciously shovelling them into her mouth and cursing as a few fell onto the floor.

She watched the TV intently, a smile growing on her face in anticipation.

"Welcome, to the 2020 Brit Awards!" the presenter announced and to her empty living room, she cheered.

Her eyes narrowed as she waited to see Harry, grinning when she noticed him from a mile off in his bright yellow suit. She'd had no clue what he was going to be wearing at his insistence that it be a surprise for her. And well, she was surprised alright. And in awe.

Pulling out her phone, she typed a quick message.

She looked back to the screen, watching the first of the performances, along with the help of the popcorn and the beer she'd grabbed for herself. Her phone buzzed by her side not even a minute later.

Wednesday shook her head with a grin, before looking back to the TV. A few awards and more performances passed, until the moment she'd waited for finally began.

"This is Harry Styles, with his beautiful ballad Falling."

She sat up straight, her heart beginning to beat a bit quicker as the camera panned over. And there he stood, looking ethereal under the dimmed lighting. Wednesday's mouth parted as her eyes took it all in. The way the white lace looked against his skin. Beautiful reflections from the water against the backdrop. The way the water fell from the piano itself. The entire scene was magical, and not for the first time that night, she desperately wished she was there to see the entire ceremony first-hand.

As he sung, so sweetly it pained her, her eyes glossed up. It was so beautiful. He was so beautiful. And for a split second, she wondered what was running through his mind as he sung. Who was in his mind. But when she realised who the answer probably was, she pushed that thought away, compartmentalising it in a place that she could continue to ignore.

Closing her eyes, the lyrics struck right into her heart. It felt like the embodiment of everything she'd felt the past year. Everything she was still feeling. It was funny, the fact she'd heard the song copious amounts of times and yet, this felt like the first time she was really hearing it.

"What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around?"

Something sombre took a hold of her heart, making it feel heavy as he continued to sing. Her surroundings melted away as she looked at the close up of his face, the crease between his eyebrows. She felt overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with something she couldn't put her finger on.

"I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling."

The cheers from people in the audience dragged her from her daze, making her smile as she listened to the whoops and claps he rightly deserved when he'd finished. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she felt the pounding of her heart against her chest.

As the ceremony progressed, Wednesday got more antsy for the results. Harry was nominated for Best British Male and Best Album and though she believed he wholeheartedly deserved both awards after seeing the immense dedication and work he'd put into his craft for the past couple of years, she also knew there might be a slight bias on her part.

She sat on the edge of the sofa, mindlessly stuffing popcorn into her mouth as she waited for the results. When someone else's name other than Harry's was called out for the first award, she sunk into the sofa sulkily. And when it happened for the second time, she cursed under her breath.

When the ceremony finished and she'd flicked on a random show to play in the background, she pulled her phone from her pocket again, knowing that Harry was now at least an hour into whatever after party he was attending due to the awards being pre-recorded.

Putting the phone down onto the coffee table, she stood up and moved to clear the beer bottle and empty bowl. She hadn't even stepped into the kitchen when she heard the faint ringtone of her phone, its vibration buzzing into the air where she stood.

Furrowing her brows, she wondered whether it was her mum calling. She hastened back into the living room, squinting even more when she saw Harry's name.

"Harry? What are you calling me for? You should be enjoying yourself at the party," she said, answering the call.

The noise from his surroundings travelled through the receiver, loud music blasting out and voices of various people mingling around him. Was he literally stood in the middle of the party?

"I wanted to talk to you," he slurred down the phone and she tried to fight her smile, hearing how goofy he sounded.

He was drunk. In fact, he sounded absolutely battered.

"You can talk to me tomorrow," Wednesday laughed, sitting down on the sofa.

"Noooooo," he whined immaturely down the phone. "I wanted to hear your voice. Missed you tonight."

She smiled at his openness, knowing that once he'd had enough to drink, his filter basically disappeared.

"You saw me literally yesterday, idiot."

"Heeeey, that's not nice."

Wednesday could already picture his pouted face, his lips curled in fake hurt. She grinned at the image.

"How's the party?" she asked, hearing the shouting from everyone around him.

"Alright. Bit boring. Gem's already left." He sighed down the phone, like he was troubled by this fact.

Yep. He was wasted.

"Well, I'm sure you have plenty of friends there. And I'm sure there's lots of pretty people to chat up."

She fidgeted, biting her inner cheek.

"Hmph," he exclaimed in response, apparently not happy at the thought. "Don't wanna talk to them."

Wednesday could hear his laboured breathing, the drink making him take deeper breathes. She breathed out a laugh at his resistance.

"Why not?"

"Cos."

"Because, what?"

He paused, the only sound coming through the phone being that of the party noise.

"Cos, they're not..." he started, stopping himself. Wednesday felt her smile lower as she listened intently, her brows pulling together. After a moment in which he cleared his throat, he continued to speak. "They're not who I want to speak to."

She failed to hold back the smile that was breaking out on her lips.

"Well, aren't you being sweet tonight," she teased.

"I'm always sweet to you," he replied defensively, his voice hoarse from having to speak over the music.

"Nah. I reckon it's the booze," she continued, always enjoying any opportunity she had to wind him up.

"I've barely even had anything."

At that, he released a hiccough down the phone.

"You sound so convincing."

"I might have had some tequila." Another hiccough. "And a few glasses of champagne."

Wednesday shook her head, laughing to herself.

"I'm just happy you've had fun."

"Would have been more fun if you were here..." he mumbled. She could hear the music begin to die down, almost as if he was walking to somewhere quieter.

"I know, I wish I'd been there too. But I was watching at home," she said, trying her best to sound positive. "The performance was stunning Harry. You looked beautiful."

The words slipped out before she could hear what she was saying. Her eyes widened when she realised, silence passing between them.

"Did you just call me beautiful?" he asked after an awkward beat, and she could hear the grin through the phone.

She wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks too. Sitting up straighter, she forced a nonchalant tone.

"Yes, I did. And what about it?"

He breathed out a laugh through the phone, boyish and gravelly.

"Nothing. You've just never called me beautiful before."

It was true, she hadn't. Even though she thought it about him. Often.

"Well, you're welcome. Don't let that compliment inflate your ego anymore though."

"Oi, my ego isn't that big," he said, hiccoughing again.

"Whatever you say Mr Arrogant Son of a Bitch."

She grinned as she heard him gasp in exaggerated offense.

"You can't use my own song against me!"

"I can when it's half mine," Wednesday said, grinning triumphantly at no-one.

Harry sighed, the background music behind him now gone.

"Fine. You win."

She leant back into the sofa, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks hurt with the constant smile that had been splashed across her face.

"Ah, my two favourite words. Thank you."

He clicked his tongue, speaking under his breath. "Typical Aries..."

Before she could even call him out, he held the phone away and yelled something. Who or what he was shouting at, Wednesday couldn't make out. The words came muffled down the line, like he was holding the phone against himself. A moment later, after scuffling noises and some shuffling, the sound of something slamming, the line cleared again.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying to understand what was going on down the line.

"Nothing," he replied, immediately releasing a large yawn after. "What are you doing?"

She looked around the empty living room, an episode of Friends playing silently in the background. It was already around half 11 and she was sure she would be ready for bed soon from the way she was slumped on the sofa.

"Just watching TV. Living my super extravagant, exciting life. You know how it is."

"What have you done today?" he questioned.

She furrowed her brows, thinking over the menial tasks she'd completed throughout the day.

"I went for a run this morning. Then came back and showered. Did a deep clean of the house. Learnt some new songs on the drums. Had a nap. And then watched the awards. Like I said, exciting."

"What new songs did you learn?"

"What is this, one of those vogue 73 questions videos?" she laughed.

"Shut up," he mumbled. "I'm interested."

She sighed, her lip catching between her teeth as she recalled the random songs she'd picked out to practice. "I learnt Forever by Haim, Greek Tragedy by the Wombats and, uh...oh, Nice to Meet Ya by Niall."

It had been a long time since she'd sat down at her drum set just to play for the sake of playing. Not for work, not under a time constraint. Just her, doing what she loved, for the enjoyment of it. It was a nice change, to play completely for herself.

"All great choices," he affirmed, and she didn't need to be with him to know he was nodding. "Next time I come round, will you play them for me?"

"Sure," she nodded. "But you have to sing."

"Deal. I already know all the words to Nice to Meet Ya anyway."

"I should hope so," she smiled, yawning as she stretched out. "I don't think it'll be happening tomorrow though. Pretty sure you won't want to listen to me drumming with a stinking hangover."

"I'll sink back a few painkillers and soldier on," he slurred. "Anyway, are you already assuming I'll be coming over tomorrow?"

Wednesday chortled, recalling the past few weeks where it seemed like every free opportunity he'd had was spent in Wednesday's house and not his own.

"I mean, based on the fact that every time you have a day off or some free time, you've been here, I'd say yes. That's exactly what I'm assuming."

"I'm not at yours all the time..."

She laughed at his immature tone. "No, no. Just yesterday, the day before that and the day before that, yeah?"

"Well sorry for enjoying your company," he huffed, though she could hear the smile in his voice. "You know, a lot of people would kill to be in your position. Hanging out with me."

Despite his obvious sarcasm, she still couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Remember earlier when I mentioned your gigantic ego?"

He laughed down the receiver and the sound made her smile widely, the hairs on her arm standing on end at the noise. A beat passed between them until she remembered something.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you! I was looking through some old things and found my school leavers book the other day. The note you left in it for me is just too cute."

"I don't even remember what I wrote," he replied, his tone suddenly nervous. "Is it bad?"

"If you give me a minute," she began, getting up from the sofa. "I'll let you decide that for yourself."

"No, no, please don't read it to me," he groaned, but she was already out of the living room and running up the stairs.

"Oh sorry, I can't hear you anymore."

"Yes, you can. Dickhead."

"The signal must be going, I'm losing you," she lied, throwing the phone down onto her bed once she stepped into her room. Faintly from the phone, she could hear Harry's drunk protests. But with a grin, she continued to ignore him and rooted through the box full of photobooks and old miscellaneous items she'd been searching through for the past few days.

After a few minutes, she found what she was looking for.

"Ah, here we go," she said into the phone as she picked it up, sitting down on the floor with her old school leavers book planted firmly on her lap.

Using her shoulder to keep the phone placed up to her ear, she flicked through, eyes narrowed as she tried to locate the page it was on.

"The lengths you go to, to embarrass me are actually impressive, you know," Harry said into her ear.

She laughed, her fingers still sweeping past each page quickly. Until finally, she landed on the one where his handwriting was scribbled in all its unkempt glory.

"Found it," she announced cheerfully. Clearing her throat, she began to read the letter. "To Wednesday, where do I even begin?"

Harry audibly groaned through the phone in embarrassment and she grinned, knowing it was the exact reaction she'd wanted to elicit.

"I've known you for 6 years now, but it only feels like yesterday I walked up to that scary girl in the lunch hall and asked to sit with her. Though I'll never admit it to your face, you inspire me daily and always make me want to be a better version of myself. You push me to go for my dreams and don't let me give up when I'm moaning about not being good enough."

"I hate 16-year-old me," he interjected, releasing a long sigh.

Wednesday smiled, continuing to read. "I'm so glad I met you and can't wait to see what we both achieve when we leave school. But, if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that we will still being doing it together. As BFFs. Love, Harry." She put the book down and held the phone in her hand again. "Harry Styles or Shakespeare, who knows?"

"Shut up, idiot," he replied. "Are you happy now? Hearing that just made me cringe the hardest I ever have in my life. Did I really put BFFs?"

Shrugging with a smile, Wednesday looked to the wall. "Yes, yes you did. And hey, they're your words. Don't shoot the messenger."

"In approximately one minute, you're gonna regret that," he mumbled.

"What do you mean?" she laughed.

Her brows furrowed as she listened to his muffled speech again, vaguely hearing someone else's voice. He seemed to be holding the phone against himself once more, and there was a lot of shuffling about. Then, something slammed.

"Harry? What are you doing?"

"Oneeee more second," he replied, and Wednesday was utterly confused, listening for any sign of what he was doing.

Then, in the silent air of her house, loud knocks echoed from the front door. She turned her head towards the noise sharply, sure she'd just heard those same knocks coming through the phone.

"Are you..." she began, getting up and rounding the door, towards the end of the landing. There, from the top of the stairs, she could see the bright yellow suit through the door window. "Are you outside?" she asked.

"Yes, and it's bloody freezing, so let me in."

Still holding the phone up to her ear, she bounded down the stairs, undoing the latch and opening the door. On the other side he stood leant against the wall, with a grin as wide as the Cheshire cat's and eyes as droopy as someone who'd been drinking for an entire night non-stop. The phone was still to his ear as he hiccoughed.

"Surprise," he slurred, his goofy grin making one appear on her own face.

Her eyes dragged down to his suit. Yep. There were the red wine stains. All over his crotch.

She opened up the door to allow him to step in, and he pushed himself away from the doorframe to enter. But instead of sliding past her, he raised his arms and wrapped them around her neck, encompassing her in a large hug. Laughing at the sudden contact, she tried to wiggle the purple bow out of her face, letting her hands rest around his middle.

He sighed contentedly, swaying her slightly. "That's better."

"You absolutely stink of tequila," Wednesday muffled into his chest, the smell of hard liquor radiating from him. She pulled back, staring up at his reddened eyes. "Did you drink the entire free bar at the afterparty?"

He grinned, pulling her back into him. "Maybe."

She let him continue to hug her, even easing into it slightly as she rubbed his back gently.

"What are you doing here, anyway? Have you literally just got a taxi from the afterparty to here?"

"Yep," he nodded into her.

"Why?" she laughed, looking back up to him.

He looked down to her, a genuine smile appearing on his lips. He shrugged. "I wanted to see you."

They continued to stare at each other, their faces only inches apart. Wednesday knew her cheeks had flushed at his reply. They always did. Biting her lip, she looked between his green eyes, feeling his arms around her. In that moment, under his gaze and stood as they were, she felt a deep sense of déjà vu.

Clearing her throat, she pulled away, placing her hand between them.

"Come on, I'll get you some water."

Ten minutes later, after she'd made Harry down an entire glass of cold water, as well as giving him some toast to line his stomach, Wednesday helped him upstairs. She didn't bother asking whether he wanted to stay, nor did he ask if he could. It was just assumed he would at this point. After all, he probably spent more time at hers now than in his own house.

Before she could even open the guest bedroom, he made a beeline for her room. When she walked in, she already saw him laying sideways below her sheets, staring up at her with that boyish grin he used when he wanted to get his own way.

"Right, so I'm guessing you're staying in here with me tonight then, yeah?"

He nodded, snuggling even further in and Wednesday couldn't help but notice how innocent he looked. She couldn't even pretend to be annoyed. Smiling, she opened her drawers, rooting through and finding some shorts and an oversized sweatshirt to wear.

"Here you go. Can't have you sleeping in your Gucci suit all night," she said, placing the items on the bed next to him.

His arm snaked out, his rings shining under the light as he grabbed the items. "Marc Jacobs, actually," he corrected.

Wednesday rolled her eyes as she walked towards the door, ready to give him some privacy to get changed. "Oh, well excuse me. How could I ever get them mixed up?"