#longer than that too ofc but i think ever since i moved to campus in 2021 and shit started hitting the fan my life just started snowballing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chxrrysangel · 3 years

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The Accident

Part Four | Masterlist | Part Six

Summary || Per request of Nat and the contract, Diana goes to Bucky’s first football game of the season. However, there’s no smooth sailing in the storm that’s about to come.

Relationship || fakeboyfriend!Bucky x black!ofc

Warnings || language, angst, mention of violence/threats, pet names [angel, baby, darling, etc.]

Word Count || 2,208 words

October

“Boo!” At the sound of someone’s voice in my ear, I shriek and drop my books on the ground.

“Jesus Christ Nat! What the fuck? You know I’m jumpy!” She laughs at my reaction, not bothering to apologize.

“I know, that’s why I do it.”

“You’re a menace you know that?” I pick up my textbooks, annoyed with my terrorist of a friend.

“And you love me anyways. Actually, speaking of menace…uh Bucky? You two are quite the pair.”

“Yeah, I uh... I guess we are.” I add a smile, hoping that my lack of reaction doesn’t raise any suspicions.

“So, how did that happen?” We begin to walk down the sidewalk, making our way to the science hall.

“I don’t know, it kind of just did. I mean we were friends before, so it’s not like dating a stranger or anything.”

Nat looks at me with a lost look on her face, before her memory decides to actually be useful.

“Right! You tutored him last year, didn’t you?”

“Yup. Spring semester.”

"So, are you going to the game on Friday?"

"Uh uh. Absolutely not. I barely understand football on screen, let alone in person. Besides, what reason would I have to go?," I respond with a laugh.

Nat stops in her tracks at my words, giving me a look that suggests murder. I feel like I should be scared now.

" I know you didn't just say you're not going. You couldn't have."

"'But I did?"

"Di, do you realize how completely moronic and embarrassing it is for the girlfriend of the Quarterback to be m.i.a from the first game of the season?"

Oh right, I forgot about that. When she puts it that way...

"Shit. I forgot about that. You do make a good point."

"Of course I do, I always do. So you're coming?" The way she looks at me, like an excited child on Christmas morning, forces me to say yes.

"Yes! Oh you're gonna love it! The games--"

"Natasha!" The two of us flick our heads in the direction of the voice, seeing Steve jog between the small crowd of students towards us.

Fantastic.

"What's up beautiful?" Steve kisses Nat's forehead and wraps his arm around her, wedging himself between us. Like I'm not even there.

"Nat, I'll see you later. I've gotta get to psych in like 10 minutes and the building is massive. Bye, gotta go."

I don't really give her the opportunity to say anything before I make my exit. I'm not really in the mood to speak with Steve right now. Ever since Bucky and I started "dating", he’s been a complete dick. I’m starting to question what I ever saw in him. I make my way towards the campus Starbucks, deciding to get some breakfast for once. Nat doesn’t need to know my psych professor cancelled class for the rest of the week. Apparently she has the flu. Lucky me I guess.

~~~~

While Nat is talking my ear off about Steve, I notice a certain someone making their way up the stairs towards us. My mood gets instantly lifted, happy to avoid this draining lovesick conversation.

“Hey James, what’s up?”

He looks nervous. Why is he nervous?

“Hey angel, do you mind uh…can you braid my hair for me real quick?”

He stands in front of us like a sad puppy, and it’s completely adorable. How could I possibly say no? I direct him to sit on the concrete steps so we’re closer together, thankful for the wide distance between the bleacher sets. That way, I don’t have to apologize every time someone needs to walk past. Nat excuses herself, something about wanting to get snacks.

“So, Barnes. How you feeling?”

I begin to part his hair down the middle, and he reaches his arm back to pass me the scrunchies on his wrist. Let’s just hope he’s not tender headed, otherwise this might take longer than I think.

“Uh, a little nervous not gonna lie. But, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“How’s Nat?”

“She’s good. Still talking my ear off about Steve every minute of her life, but good.” I notice his fist tighten when I mention Steve’s name. Right, they don’t get along.

“Speaking of that devil reincarnated, how’s Steve treating you? Still a dick?” The question sounds leading, like he knows what answer I’m going to give.

“Uh, don’t even get me started. Being a dick doesn’t even cover it.” My eyes roll just thinking about it.

“I can fix him if you want. I’m not afraid to set him straight, just say the word.” I finish the second braid, tying up both ends. Then I go to sit next to him so we’re more of less eye level.

“James, no. Absolutely fucking not. I am not letting you get suspended from the team for kicking your teammate’s ass. It’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens.” His jaw ticks at my rejection.

“And why not? He’s being a bully. I can’t let my girl get bullied, especially by a guy.”

My girl?

“Well your girl, fake or not, won’t let you out yourself in harmsway like that,” I whisper to him.

Bucky’s face turns to me fully, grabbing my cheeks so I have no opportunity to look away.

“My mom would kick my ass for letting any one of my girlfriends get bullied by a guy. It’s my moral obligation to fix this. So let me. Please?”

“James. Promise me you won’t do anything. I can handle it. And if I do need you, I won’t hesitate to ask. Okay?”

He looks at me hesitantly, eyes flickering back and forth between my features. After some deliberation, he nods and lets me go.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

Bucky pulls a folded up cloth out of his helmet, handing it to me shyly. A blush creeps up his cheeks as I unfold the layers, causing me to smile. He’s kind of cute when he’s nervous. I soon realize what it is and quickly unravel the rest to see the full thing on display. Holding it up, I marvel at the purple and white jersey, number 17 in big bold letters. I turn it around to see the name Barnes scripted at the top.

“You’re giving me your jersey?”

“Yeah. I have tons anyways. Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my girlfriend come to my game without it? It’s very convincing.”

“Right.” I take the opportunity to peel off my puffer jacket, before sliding the large jersey over my long sleeve shirt. Bucky smiles while watching me, dimples making an appearance.

“You look good in my clothes, I think.”

“So does this mean I can steal some in the meantime?” His face takes on a fake-annoyed expression at my question.

“ Ha ha, very funny. Don’t get ahead of yourself Angel.”

“We’ll see, James. We’ll see. Now go, the games started and I’m not gonna hold you up.”

“Alright, alright. Yes ma’am. Just know when I wave at you from the field, wave back. Okay?”

“Okay, now go! Before I push you down the stairs!”

Bucky kisses my cheek before running down the concrete steps, diving through the crowd towards to locker rooms to put on his equipment. The game’s starting soon and the stadium is buzzing with activity. Eventually Nat comes back, holding nachos and soft drinks in hand.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Oh, not much. I braided his hair and we just chatted about the game and stuff.” Nat nods, diving into her nachos while we wait.

“Oh look! There’s Steve. And he’s waving at us!”

Nat directs my attention to the field, the starters making their way to the 50 yard line. Steve waves at us—well Nat if I’m honest—and I meekly wave down at him. However my attention is soon diverted by a certain blue-eyed goofball barreling down the grass towards the edge of the gate. Bucky waves like an excited toddler, before throwing a kiss at me. Indulging in his stupidity, I catch it and he beams. We could be great actors if I do say so myself. He waves goodbye before running towards the middle to discuss last minute plays.

~~~

I’m gonna be honest, football is not that entertaining. It’s even worse when you have no idea what’s actually going on. I feel like a fish out of water, watching Bucky and his team run around like tiny ants on the fake grass. Why does he like this again?

It’s just a little bit past half-time right now, and they’re at the 20 yard line. If they can get this play and score a touchdown, we’ll be that much closer to making sure the other team can’t win. It’ll be too late in the game by then to score enough points to come out victorious.

I barely pay attention to the other players, only watching Bucky with my undivided attention. Steve too, but to a lesser degree. He’s the only reason I’m here right now, and he’s quite entertaining to watch actually. I may not know what’s going on, but he loves it. So the least I could do is indulge in his interests, it’s in the contract anyways.

For some odd reason, Coach Williams calls a time-out halfway through the play. This almost never happens. I watch as the players begin to make their way to their respective sides. Steve throws the football across the field, likely towards one of the wide receivers. But then I quickly realize where this is going. My eyes flicker over to Bucky just as he takes off his helmet. Oh fucking hell.

“Bucky!”

I’m too late. The football hits Bucky square in the side of his head at lightning speed and his body collapses on the grass. I watch with horror as Steve runs frantically across the field like he made a mistake. Time moves almost in slow motion as I jump out my seat, taking the stairs two at a time. I nearly fall on my face several times, the concrete steps too wide for the speed at which I’m running. It’s gonna take at least five minutes to make to the field from where we are, so I move as fast as my legs could possibly carry me.

The security guards at the edge try to stop me but I merely push my way around, not caring that they’re yelling at me about trespassing. I genuinely could not give less of a fuck right now. I run across the grass field, tears in my eyes and fear coursing through my veins. Please let him be okay. Please.

I shove my way through the crowd of giant football players, again not caring if I’m being yelled at. Bucky lays in the middle on the ground, eyes closed and face flushed. Kneeling beside him, I brush the whispy strands out of his eyes.

“Bucky? Are you okay?” I whisper close to him, knowing what loud voices can do for a concussion.

“Bucky? Please, just answer. Say literally anything.” Again, he doesn’t respond, which causes my palms to sweat even more.

“James? Are you alright? I need to know if you’re okay.” His eyes flutter open, before shutting quickly due to the blinding lights of the stadium. Yeah, a concussion will do that to you.

“Diana? Angel? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“My head hurts.” I laugh lightly at his remark, just relieved that he’s okay. Well, as okay as you can be when you have a major concussion.

“I know baby. But we gotta get you to the nurse, okay? Now can you stand up for me please?”

Bucky makes a weak attempt at standing before another pair of hands come to help him up. By the bracelet on their wrist, I can already tell it’s Thor. Coach Williams says something about taking it slow to the nurse, but I’m barely listening. All that matter right now is Bucky. Then as soon as we found out he’ll be okay, I’m gonna kick Steve’s ass. I might even break his spine while we’re at it. If there’s anything I know about Steve, it’s that his aim is quite literally perfect. That was no fucking accident.

#fakeboyfriend!bucky #fake relationship #bucky fanfic #angst #romanogers #natasha romanov #marvel au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!ofc #bucky barnes x original female character #steve rogers x original female character #black!oc #bucky x reader

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1dffsummerexchange · 7 years

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Play For Keeps

Written For: @what-comes-from-within

Written By: @harrysmeadow

Pairing: Harry/OFC

Word Count: 8,086

Warnings: Language

Summary:

When Harry and Tilly meet each other after Tilly's weekly music rehearsal, Harry knows he has to get to know her better. But when Harry takes the leap, has he gone too far or was it just the push Tilly needed?

3 till 4pm on Tuesday afternoons were Tilly Renford’s favourite time of the week, and the old Red Brick Music Room on campus was her favourite place to be.

After her last class of the day, which she was more than happy to get out of, she scurried across campus eagerly, almost tripping once or twice on the loose laces that were tucked into the sides of her shoes.

Struggling to sign her name on the door because of the mountain of folders she was carrying from previous classes, she was more than happy to drop them in the corner of the room when she finally entered. Taking her place on the piano bench, a familiar sense of relief flowed through her when her hands took place on the keys, she felt at home.

Although her allocated practice time was a mandatory part of her course, spending an hour in the music room each week never felt like a chore to Tilly. Music was her first and only love in life.

She tried with all her might to learn the sequence before her, concentrating hard, her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth, yet her fingers danced effortlessly across the instrument, creating a sweet and gentle melody that sounded nothing like the hard expression on her face.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she noticed her time was nearly up, but Tilly felt good about the progress she’d made. Feeling confident she’d do well in the exam, she made a mark on the sheet as to where she had remembered the notes off by heart, and allowed herself the last ten minutes to play what she liked.

Since her parents had first bought her Piano lessons at the age of 8, she never felt pressured by them to reach a certain standard, and Tilly was thankful for that. They were never pushy or disappointed if she didn’t meet a grade; only encouraging to do her best. She loved to play, and her Mum had always told her the minute she didn’t love it anymore, she could stop. That was the reason she like to set aside time to just play for herself, rather than practice a set piece, she knew the moment she didn’t want to play for herself, was the moment she wouldn’t progress any further.

Leaning across the piano bench, Tilly shuffled through her bag reaching for her favourite sheet music. It was crumpled and torn, and had various ring shaped stains from the mugs of tea she’d placed on top of it over the years. To be honest, Tilly really didn’t need the music in front of her anymore, the songs she loved to play were so clearly etched in her mind she was sure she’d have to sustain a brain injury to forget the notes. But she found it comforting to have them in front of her. She smiled to herself as she looked at the scribbles she’d made as a 16 year old learning it for the first time, little prompts and tips and even small little drawings were scattered across the pages.

She propped the pages up on the stand and began to play, letting the music fill the room, she relaxed as the familiar notes soothed her and she began to sing along, washing away the tension she’d hadn’t realised had built up as she’d practiced for her exam.

*I’ve made up my mind, don’t need to think it over. If I’m wrong, I am right. Don’t need to look no further, this ain’t lust. I know this is love.*

****

Harry Styles had prepared himself to be bored while he waited for his allocated practice slot in the Red Brick Music Room on a Tuesday afternoon. Bringing along an array of coloured pens and highlighters with his notes, he’d planned to do ten or fifteen minutes or so of revision while he waited; but he found himself struggling to concentrate on his composition notes as he hummed along to the pretty sounds coming from the room.

*But if I tell the world, I’ll never say enough, cause it was not said to you. And that’s exactly what I need to do. If I end up with you.*

He tapped his pen against his leg in time with the melody that was flowing out from under the door, as he scanned the pages in front him, willing himself to learn the things he needed to know. The melody must have must have stopped at some point though, and Harry had slipped back into his studying until a voice caught him off guard, and the yellow highlighter slipped off the end of the page and onto his jeans.

“Oh I’m so sorry, did I overrun into your time?” a slightly panicked voice questioned.

He looked up to the doorway where the beautiful sounds had come from earlier, and a found a wide eyed girl holding the door open for him with her entire body weight, clutching tightly to an array of books and folders.

She was petite, and had short brown hair that fell in uneven waves just past her ears to her chin. The knitted green jumper that was haphazardly tucked into only one side of her denim skirt was falling off her shoulder, and she raced to pull it back into place without dropping the mountain of work in her arms. A pair of tortoise shell reading glasses were slightly askew on top of her head, and Harry noticed that rather than tying the laces of her tattered white converse she had simply tucked them down the side. She seemed uneven, kinda wonky (and that wasn’t just the way she was leant against the door), imperfect even, she had a presence, a kind of aura that Harry found himself drawn to.

Harry sprang up from where he was perched on the bench opposite the door. “No! Not at all, I just got here early!” He said with a smile, hoping to ease her worry. He didn't like feeling as though he'd been part of the reason she felt that way.

“Oh ok. If I ever do run over though, don’t hesitate to kick me out. I find it quite easy to lose track of time when I’m playing.” She chuckled, more to herself Harry thought, as he gathered his things up.

He smiled to himself as he imagined this girl getting so lost in the music she was creating and playing, she ended up in a world of her own. He didn’t think he ever would kick her out though, Harry thought he could have sat for hours listening to the melodies he’d heard her play.

“I presume that was you playing just then?” He asked, finally reaching for the door, allowing her to take her weight off and she stepped past him, her shoulder brushing against his arm when she turned round to face him again.

She was close enough now that Harry could really see her. He liked the way the little bump on her nose was covered in freckles, that then went their separate ways to create little dotted patterns on her cheeks. Her brown eyes were swimming, sparkling like she was thinking of a thousand things at once, but Harry had no doubt she was giving him her full attention.

“Mmhm.” The girl nodded, shuffling the folders in her arms so she could use a free hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Harry couldn’t help but smile again as he watched her dainty fingers run through the strands. He was in awe of how such delicate things could create such bellowing, yet amazing sounds.

“Well it was amazing, I’ve always loved the piano and you’re very talented.” He praised, and Harry considered himself lucky when he saw a small blush rise to her cheeks at his compliment, it was then he decided next week he’d arrive early again.

****

Over the next few weeks Tilly saw the curly haired boy who liked to chat, outside the Red Brick Music Room every time she finished her session. She was pretty sure the allocation times hadn’t been changed, and she wondered why he was making so many appearances when she was sure she hadn’t seem him at all during first term.

She didn’t mind though, not one bit. In fact, Tilly had developed what her flatmate Martha had described as ‘a school girl crush’ on the boy with emerald green eyes, when she didn’t stop talking about him for a solid twenty minutes the other day while they were meant to be catching up on the new episode of Criminal Minds.

It was harmless though, Tilly thought, she liked having something (someone) to daydream about, and she’d found quite quickly that the curly haired boy, with green eyes also had dimples. And well, could you really blame her?

Tilly checked the clock more often in her piano sessions now, and she often had internal battles with herself to make sure she stayed in the room for the full hour, even though she so desperately wanted to leave five minutes early to spend more time with Green Eyes. But, she also knew that practice made perfect, and she really wanted to get a good mark on her exam. So, every week she played her piece over and over, committing the sequence to memory until her fingers looked as if they moved of their own accord and they were made to create that music.

But true to her word, Tilly always saved time for herself to play what she wanted, and once again her fingertips played the song she loved to hear, and the happiness she felt flowed through her veins. The smile that graced her lips could be heard in the lyrics she sang, giving the normally sombre song a twist that Tilly loved.

*Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements? Even if it leads nowhere? Or would it be a waste? Even if I knew my place, should I leave it there?*

Tilly was always smiling when she entered or left the Red Brick Music Room, but usually the high she felt from the music, faded pretty quickly when she walked back to her flat. But recently she found her good mood would stick around a bit longer.

Stepping out of the room at her normal time, her grin only widened when she saw Green Eyes leant against the wall, closer to the door than he usually was.

“Hi!” Tilly greeted the boy whose eyes had been locked on the door from the moment she opened it.

“Hey!” He returned with a smile just as wide, pushing himself off the wall to stand in front of her. “You played great today, again.” he said.

“Thanks!” Tilly replied cheerily, but she couldn’t help but feel like there was something important missing off of the end of her sentence. Like a name.

Tilly was British in every sense of the word. Meaning, she drank at least 4 cups of tea a day, was prone to saying sorry for things she didn’t do, and got severely angry when someone jumped the queue. It also meant that if you missed the opportunity to get someone’s name at the first meeting, you’d be stuck making small talk with said other person that never progressed any further, because you can’t get to know more about someone when you don’t know their name.

Tilly had realised after their second run in that she hadn’t asked Green Eyes what his name was, and they’d definitely passed the point where it would be extremely awkward to ask for it now, so Tilly was trying to come to terms with the fact that the most she’d ever get out of him was a comment on the weather.

“Are you playing the Open Mic Night on Saturday?” He asked, raising his eyebrows slightly, but his eyes never left her face, eagerly awaiting her response.

Tilly liked the attention he paid her when they talked. She’d always felt like a bit of a ‘plain Jane’ and never really got noticed by boys, but the way that Green Eyes looked as though he cherished every word she said, like he was going to carve them in stone and worship them every day, was a feeling Tilly liked.

“I didn’t know there was one, so no.” She giggled, trying not to get too excited over the thought that Green Eyes might be trying to initiate something between them.

“Oh, well it’s at The Red Dragon, I don’t know if you have him, but Professor Anderson goes to them, and he counts the performances as extra credit for his modules.” he stated.

Tilly felt let down, like a birthday balloon she’d been filled up with excitement before the party, but started to deflate before the main event. It wasn’t an invite, just more small talk. She was annoyed that she’d even allowed herself to entertain the thought that he would ask her to do something, they weren’t friends she thought. She didn’t even know his name.

“That’s good to know, thanks.” she said, visibly less enthusiastic than before. “Well, have a good session.” She added, offering him a small smile before stepping out of the door and away, not waiting for his reply.

Walking out of the Red Brick Music Room the crisp spring breeze whipped around Tilly’s ankles, causing goosebumps to arise on her exposed skin. Much like the wind, the thoughts running through Tilly's brain were twisting and turning. She could feel a headache coming on.

Tilly did have Professor Anderson for two modules, so it would make sense to go, right? Plus, she didn't want to appear rude to Green Eyes, he was trying to help her. But Tilly had never performed in front of an audience before, and she could feel the nerves bubbling in her tummy at even just the thought of it. She began to wonder if she made an appearance whether it would be odd if she just went to watch, rather than perform like Green Eyes had suggested. She had three days to decide.

****

Harry swore the room was buzzing in the moments after he stepped into the practice room that afternoon. Like the energy that came from the sounds the small girl with the short hair had created was still swirling around the room.

He’d been coming over to the Red Brick Music Room early for four weeks now, just to make sure he got to hear her play, and to have a little chat when she emerged.

Harry wasn't afraid to admit that he was smitten with the dainty girl that always seemed to wear her clothes one size too big, and who always smiled bashfully to floor with red cheeks every time he paid her a compliment.

She was cute Harry thought, and he kicked himself every time he let her pass without getting her name. He always went with the intention to learn it, but every time she stepped out of that room it was as though all rational thoughts disappeared from his mind. To Harry she was like some kind of mystical creature, who only appeared on Tuesdays between 4 and 4.05pm. She was a rare sight, one of a kind, with her wide eyes and freckled cheeks. Harry felt lucky whenever he saw her.

But he had gone with a mission this week to invite her to the open mic, and he was happy he'd achieved what he had set out to do.

The past week, Harry's flat mate Niall had had enough of Harry's constant whining about the girl from the music room with no name.

“Just bloody ask her!” He cried one night while they were meant to be watching the England game, but Harry had spent the last half an hour listing the pros and cons of what could happen between him and the Piano Girl if he never learnt her name at all.

“I’ve tried!” Harry exclaimed.

“No you haven't! Because if you had, you'd know it!” Niall retaliated, on the way to becoming completely exasperated with the whole topic.

“Look Harry.” Niall continued, turning to face him where he had slumped down on the sofa grumbling to himself. “If you want to actually get to know her, you're gonna have to see her outside of that fucking corridor.”

So in the following days Harry had spent his time going back and forth with ideas of what he could ask Piano Girl to do in an attempt to get to know her better. So far they’d only ever spoken about music and what course they were each doing, and Harry had found himself wondering at times thing like; why she never actually tied her laces, or if she had a pet, and why she always played that same song every week.

He knew his options were limited, he didn’t want to come across as too forward, because he didn’t really know the girl. A one on one date at a fancy restaurant was out of the question, it would be like a backwards blind date he thought, where he knew what she looked like, but didn’t know her name. A little meet up at the little independent coffee shop just off campus was also a no, there would be too many opportunities for awkward silences he thought, plus he didn’t even know if she liked coffee. It had to be somewhere casual, with other people, but also somewhere chilled enough where he could ask her all these questions without her feeling uncomfortable.

It was Friday afternoon when the open mic idea had been sprung upon him. Harry was in his last lecture of the week, Professor Anderson’s ‘18th Century European Music’ module, and it was safe to say he had zoned out about 10 minutes into the topic of how the Lute had revolutionised music between the Medieval and Renaissance periods, and he’d been watching the clock ever since.

It was the scraping of chair legs against the floor, and sudden bustle of movement around him that drew Harry out of his daze. The booming voice of Professor Anderson above the racket of students rushing to get home for the weekend was what caught his attention next.

“Don’t forget ladies and gentlemen that the extra credit open mic night is next Saturday, meaning you have a week to get yourselves sorted! I hope to see a lot of you there!”

Although his announcement mainly fell on deaf ears as the stampede of students rushing to the door didn’t slow, Harry felt as though a light bulb had gone off. It was perfect he thought. It wouldn’t be just them, there would be other students, probably people she knew, and it was based around music, something he knew they had in common.

Even though she hadn’t actually said yes (or no for that matter) Harry was quietly confident that she would show up on Saturday, maybe even perform. He often found himself wondering what she looked like when she played when he was sat outside the room, listening to the pretty sounds escaping out from under the door.

Still smiling to himself as he got his own instruments and music sorted for his practice hour, Harry spotted something out of the corner of his eye. There on the floor, just by the piano stool, were two pieces of ratty paper, slightly ripped and torn at the edges. As he moved closer he saw that it was sheet music, probably left by another student he thought. Picking it up he placed it on top of the piano, hoping whoever it belonged to would find it there when they came looking. Just as he was about to set the papers down he noticed the piece title at the top.

Chasing Pavements by Adele

Harry had known the tune to Chasing Pavements, just as well as any other person might have a few weeks ago. But now he knew it off by heart. The lyrics and melodies were ones he found himself humming along to quite a lot recently, as he strolled from one class to another or when he was in the shower. Every week that he’d spent waiting outside the practice room, those notes had flown out from under the door. The song played and sang with such emotion he was always fully captured by the beautiful sounds. He had no doubt who those papers belonged to.

Turning the papers over in his hands, he inspected the marks and wears. With delicate fingers he traced over the darker lines, and Harry could see just how much this music had been played just from looking at it. He smiled as he took in the little doodles and scribbles scattered across the pages, but it broke into a full grin when he spotted a slightly faded mark in top right corner that revealed to him everything he wanted to know.

Harry knew this was his chance. He had waited and been patient, not wanting to push his luck with the pretty girl who was so musically gifted, and the universe had repaid him. His golden ticket had been presented to him at exactly the right moment.

Forgetting his own work that he should have been attempting to complete and practice, Harry grabbed a stand from the cupboard and placed the worn pieces of paper upon them. He picked up his guitar and began to strum according to the music in front of him. After changing the notes to fit with his own instrument, Harry spent his remaining time practicing the adjusted notes and committing them to memory.

He knew exactly what song he would play on Saturday, and he would play it for Tilly.

****

“I can’t believe he’s finally asked you out!” Martha gushed, when Tilly arrived home from practice that afternoon and told her friend what Green Eyes had said.

Tilly would liked to have been able to say that she’d um-ed and ah-ed over Green Eye’s suggestion for her to attend the open mic night, but it had taken her all of ten minutes after leaving the practice room to decide it might not be such a bad idea after all.

She had managed to convince herself on the walk home that she wasn’t attending because it was Green Eyes who asked her, but because it would be good for her grades. If someone else had told her about it, she would still go.

So she rolled her eyes at Martha’s exclamation, and wandered over to the kettle to make herself a cup of tea. “He didn’t ask me out. He just mentioned that it was happening.” Tilly replied with a shrug. She couldn’t afford to be influenced by her flatmates enthusiasm, it would only make her think things were different. Tilly knew she had to be careful about this and remind herself that he hadn’t actually invited her, she couldn’t let her grades be affected because she had a crush.

“Oh please.” Martha scoffed, a smug smile playing on her lips as she placed her own mug down beside the kettle, silently asking for a drink as well. “You’re being too hard on yourself! He wants to see you away from that god forsaken corridor!”

“Martha!” Tilly cried in frustration, the boiling kettle clicked off and the steam that swirled around the air helped to disguise the reddening of her cheeks. “It’s not a big deal. He didn’t ask me. I’m only going for my grade, and even then I don’t know if I’m even gonna get up there, I’ve never performed in front of an audience before.” She sighed, fishing the tea bags from the mugs and placing them on the breakfast bar in front of where Martha had taken a seat.

Tilly’s ‘play for yourself’ mantra had always been an important part of why she continued to play. The degree she was studying for didn’t have a compulsory performance module, it focused on the history of different types of music and the creation and production side of things. She never liked the idea of focusing the thing she loved doing, on the reaction of other people to it.

She wouldn’t say she was shy either, only that the thought of hundreds of pairs of eyes on her set a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she would just go to observe this time around, then if her grade needed pulling up later in the year she could perform at another.

“Well.” Martha began, taking a small sip of tea before continuing. “You’ve got a few days to decide, but there’s no harm done either way, right?”

****

The sun was shining bright on Saturday afternoon, and Tilly felt glad she’d decided not to put on tights underneath her denim skirt when she got dressed that morning. She was sat in The Red Dragon beer garden, her legs stretched out in front of her, hoping to catch some kind of colour after the dreary English winter had left her as pale as vanilla soap.

The open-mic wasn’t due to start for another hour yet, but Tilly thought it best she down some liquid courage in case she ran into Green Eyes beforehand. Martha, who was sat beside Tilly nursing her own beverage, had tagged along mainly in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the boy Tilly couldn’t keep quiet about, but also for moral support.

The crowd began to grow as it got nearer the time and when Tilly had stepped back inside for a refill she spotted Professor Anderson perched at the end of the bar, a prime viewing spot for the stage that was being set up.

She tried to shuffle away further down the bar, hoping to not catch his attention. She always found it odd seeing teachers outside of the classroom, it was always awkward and she never knew what to say without it getting personal. She’d once bumped into her secondary school biology teacher in M&S and had foolishly asked; “Are you here with your wife?”, when he coolly replied, “Tilly, I’m gay.” She vowed never to speak to teachers outside of a learning environment again.

Unfortunately she wasn’t given much choice in this situation.

“Miss Renford!” Professor Anderson called, just as she attempted to slyly sneak away. She took a tighter hold of her drink, and plastered a fake grin across her face as she turned back round to greet him. “I didn’t expect to see you here, are you performing?” He asked with genuine intrigue.

“Oh no!” She replied frantically, hoping he wouldn’t ask her to perform anyway. “Just supporting a friend.”

“Who?”

Your guess is as good as mine she thought.

“Oh, errrm, it’s….he -” Tilly stuttered. “I don’t think you know him.” She tried. His brows furrowed in confusion at her ramblings. “Will you excuse me?” She squeaked, scurrying off to find Martha before he had the chance to reply.

She spotted Martha’s long blonde hair cascading down her back from the door that led to the beer garden, she hadn��t moved from her shady spot at the table underneath the parasol. When Tilly reached her she immediately grabbed for the hand that wasn’t scrolling through her phone, pulling her up out of her seat.

“What’s the matter!?” She exclaimed. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Her eyes suddenly widened with excitement. “Was it Green Eyes!? Where is he!? I wanna-”

“Will you be quiet?” Tilly interjected, both pleading and joking tones hinting at her voice. Still dragging Martha behind her, she made her way back inside, (expertly avoiding Professor Anderson) and towards a free table she’d spotted while she was at the bar.

Attempting to whisper in the packed out pub was a fool's errand, so Tilly explained her teacher/student run-in to her friend with the hopes he didn’t overhear.

Suddenly, while Martha was still sniggering away at Tilly’s expense the lights dimmed in the pub and the chatter that had been soaring around them, fell to a low hum. A short boy, with dark brown hair, dressed in a simple jeans and a checked shirt made his presence known on the stage by tapping the microphone. The booming sound bounced around the room, but all eyes were still on the boy who had now picked up a guitar from the stand at the side of the stage.

“Hi, I’m Toby Sherman. I’m in Professor Anderson’s second year Music History module, I’m gonna play you a song.” He looked down to where his trembling fingers were perched, ready to play, but before he began he looked back up to the audience with a smile. “Also, please clap at the end ‘cos I’ll get a better grade. Cheers.”

Everyone laughed at the performers joke, and as he strummed the first notes, the energy soon filtered down though to match the emotions of the song.

“That’s not him is it?” Martha asked, nudging Tilly with her elbow slightly and nodding towards the boy on stage.

“No.” Tilly replied. “You’ll know when you see him.” She said confidently, letting a small smile play on her lips when Martha rolled her eyes.

For the next half an hour or so, students from nearly all of Professor Anderson’s modules appeared on stage hoping to boost their grade, showing off a fantastic array of musical talent.

The effects of the alcohol Tilly had been sipping that afternoon were slowly but surely fading, and she hadn’t even seen Green Eyes yet. She began to doubt herself, a feeling of disappointment starting to build within her. She’d spent nearly all week convincing herself she wasn’t attending just for him, but the uneasy anticipation was building with every moment he didn’t show.

She let her eyes wander around the room, Professor Anderson was sat taking notes, still at the bar, Tilly recognised other faces from some of her classes, she caught their eye and they smiled in return. Finally giving up with her pathetic search for the boy who’d been clouding her mind for weeks, she returned her attention to what remained of her drink in her glass on the table.

Tilly poked around the ice with her straw, a small pout forming on her lips as she let her mind run away with ideas that Green Eyes might have set her up.

“Oh. My. God.” Martha gawped beside her, pulling Tilly away from her negative thoughts. She was looking up at the stage where the next performer was about to begin, Tilly followed her gaze curiously, wondering what could have captured Martha’s attention.

She saw the curls first, laying gracefully over his shoulders just about hiding the shadow cast from his strong jaw, and that alone confirmed to her it was him. He was wearing a striped shirt, the sleeves rolled to near his elbows showing off the tattoos scattered across his skin, and it was unbuttoned a fair way down his chest revealing to Tilly and the rest of the audience a hint of more black ink. The skinny jeans he always wore were pulled over pointed black boots that looked as though they’d had a fresh polish.

Her eyes trailed up to his face, and they snapped to his like magnets. His stare was intense but not overwhelming, like a lit fire in the winter time she found his presence comforting, all the sour feelings exiting her body when a small smile appeared on his lips. Suddenly, Tilly was sure the rambling in the room was becoming duller, as if everyone was becoming mesmerised by the eyes she was captured in too.

His head finally ducked, and Tilly swore she could see a twinge of pink settling on his cheeks underneath the glaring stage lights. It was Martha nudging her side which made her own eyes fall away.

“Think I found him.” She teased. And Tilly had to bite her bottom lip in an attempt to stop her smile growing wider.

****

The steps up to the stage were steep and dimly lit by the glow that was radiating from the big lights behind him. She was the first person his eyes picked out in the crowd when he reached the mic, and suddenly the nerves he was feeling became weaker, a boost of confidence shooting through him like he’d taken a shot of it at the bar.

He couldn’t hide the happiness he felt because she was there, and he could feel his cheeks heating under her gaze. The crumpled piece of paper he’d found earlier that week was folded safely in his pocket, but it felt like it was burning through the fabric. The past week had been spent with Harry trying not to get his hopes up about her attendance. Doubtful thoughts raced through his mind every time he picked up his guitar to practice. She’d seemed so cold when he’d last seen her in the corridor. He wondered what changed her mind.

He took one last moment to really see her. A smile broke across his features when he noticed the tiny little bun she’d pulled half of her short wavy hair back into, her legs were crossed and swinging back and forth; she had on a faded pair of Birkenstocks, and Harry wondered how many times they’d fallen of her feet as they moved back and forth.

He looked down quickly and with deep, calming breaths he prepared himself for his performance. Harry knew if he was going to get a good grade for this he’d have to perform like he usually did, with all the stage presence and talent he knew he had, completely drawing the audience into the song, but Harry also knew he had an introduction to make.

“Hi, I’m Harry.” He spoke into the mic, while finding her eyes again. “Every week I’m lucky enough to hear the most beautiful rendition of this song, so I’m gonna give it a try myself. This is for you, Tilly.” Her wide eyes looked back at him, full of wonder and surprise, Harry knew if he didn’t look away now he’d get lost in them forever.

With careful, practised fingers he began to play. The music flowing effortlessly like a gentle woodland stream in spring, and his voice the perfect partner, as gentle as a soft breeze that sways the new leaves on the trees.

It’s over before he knows it, and the sudden eruption of applause jolts him out of the trance he’d been lost in. Every time he blinked during the performance he saw her words and notes scribbled behind his eyes, like the moment he lost sight of her in the room she was still there spurring him on.

Harry mumbled his thanks into the mic, before quickly shuffling off the stage. He needed to find her.

Pushing his way through the crowd he only smiled in response to those who gave him praise. He didn’t have time to stop. Not when he knew she was here. His heart was beating faster and faster in his chest the closer he got, with darting feet and quick movements he zoomed through the sea of students.

Harry came to a sudden stop when he reached the booths at the back just past the bar. His eyes ran up and down the back wall looking for her. He searched for the cute little half bun and the pastel pink shirt with cartoon ice creams on it, even looked out for a pair of crossed legs swinging out from underneath a chair. But there was nothing. She was gone.

****

A knock on the practise room door on Tuesday afternoon, for some reason didn’t come as a surprise to Tilly. She’d been expecting to see Harry at some point, and she knew it wouldn’t be the usual five minute convo in the corridor. She muttered a small “come in” to him on the other side, before taking a deep breath in the hopes it would help calm her steadily increasing nerves.

He entered with his head down and shoulders slumped, and he looked to Tilly somewhat like a kicked puppy. His thick curls fell in soft ringlets down the side of his face, as if like a shield that would protect him from any harsh words she had to say. His lips seemed more pink, slightly chapped and dry like he’d been picking and biting at them with nerves. The soft click of door behind him made her breath hitch, as it suddenly dawned on her this was the first moment they’d truly been alone.

“I’m really sorry if I crossed a line. I didn’t mean to upset you at all, I realise now it was probably too personal. I just came to give you these back.” He reached round to his back pocket, and swiftly removed whatever it was. In an outstretched hand, not quite fully extending all the way, Tilly recognised her favourite notes at once, even more folded and crumpled than they were before. She hadn’t even noticed they were missing.

She reached out for them, tugging lightly as his fingers loosened as soon as they felt a pull. Opening the papers for confirmation that they were indeed her Adele notes, she smiled when she spotted a few extra notes and scribbles on the sheets.

“I didn’t steal them by the way!” He said suddenly, causing Tilly to pull her eyes away from the new markings. “You left them here last week, so I just kind of borrowed them without asking. I actually went off of them when I performed.”

Although the paper was old and worn, with the addition of Harry’s scribbles it looked like it had been given a new lease of life. The original printed notes were faded and grey, and the marks Tilly had written as a teenager were smudged and pretty much unreadable, but the fresh black ink on the page in adorably curly cursive looked like it belonged there.

“It was really lovely, Harry.” Tilly admitted, she had been in complete and utter awe of him when he was on the stage. His voice was smooth as silk, like a soft sheet it wrapped around everyone in the room, encasing them in comfort. He was a natural performer, no-one could take their eyes off of him. He wasn’t dancing or moving around, but the emotion he was obviously feeling was like a buzz of electricity round the room.

“Thanks. I’ll go back outside now, I just wanted to give you these incase you needed them. Not that I think you need the practise, you always sound amazing. You have a great voice.” He rambled.

“You can hear me sing!?” She cried, eyes widening in horror.

“Yeah, I tell you every week how great you sound.” Harry said, confused how she’d not picked up on his glaringly obvious compliments.

“I thought you just meant the piano. Oh my god. No one has ever heard me sing. I don’t sing!” She cried, growing more flustered.

“You sound beautiful when you sing.” Harry countered simply.

Her heart lurched in her chest, like it was pulling her towards him. For weeks she’d felt like they were on opposite ends of a string, never knowing anything new, never getting closer. But since the performance she felt it pulling and coiling, wrapping tighter around her. She wondered if Harry felt it too and they were about to meet in the middle.

“You can stay in here if you like. You don’t have to go back in the corridor.” She offered with a small smile after she’d calmed down.

Tilly watched as he took tentative steps towards the corner of the room, away from the door without saying a word. He seemed shy and timid, nothing like the performance he’d put on on Saturday. Tilly wondered if they were more similar than she originally thought. She’s been so caught up in his eyes and his kind words, that she wondered when she looked to floor flustered at his compliments if she missed the pink on his cheeks too.

She took her own seat at the piano, her fingers automatically moving to the keys, playing a simple melody to warm up. She spied Harry out of the corner of her eye, looking for any sign that he might regret staying, but he seemed content with the background noise she was providing as she spotted his feet gently tapping the floor in time with the rhythm.

Tilly continued playing her usual melodies, warming herself up and getting used to the instrument again after a week of not playing. Between pieces she’d chance a glance over at Harry, who was still sat contentedly completing some of his own work, but just as she was about to turn round and start her final one, he looked up too, catching her eyes.

It was things like the unbroken eye contact that had fooled Tilly into think he was more confident than he was, but she liked the way she could look into his eyes, fully knowing he was doing the same to her.

“Why did you leave?” He asked quietly.

Tilly immediately knew what he meant, and the guilt that had been edging at her from the moment her shoes touched the pavement outside The Red Dragon on Saturday, suddenly crashed like a wave during high tide. Now she knew why he was looking into her eyes so intensely, he was searching for signs of a lie.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, looking down to her lap.

Her eyes fluttered up to him, she didn’t say a word, only hoped he could see her regret, because she was sorry. In the seconds after Harry played the final notes of his set she was sure she had tears in her eyes, and Martha wasn’t far off crying either. But the surprise she’d been hit with when he first appeared, which had turned to pure joy when he opened his mouth to sing, suddenly fizzled out, and a spark of fear ignited within her when she watched him begin the path towards her when he left the stage.

Without really thinking she tugged on Martha’s hand and escaped through the back exit by the beer garden. The image of Harry’s beautiful green eyes searching for her as he pushed through the crowd had been etched on her brain ever since.

Even from across the room Harry could see the sadness in her eyes, and it was shattering his heart piece by piece to think he might have had something to do with it. She seemed lost in her thoughts, and didn’t notice when he got up and moved towards her. Taking a place on the end of the piano bench, he spotted the notes he’d become so familiar with on the stand. Reaching past her, he gently pulled the papers to the front and then settled his hands against the keys.

The shifting and shuffling beside her was what finally pulled Tilly from her thoughts. She looked up just as Harry pressed down on the keys, attempting to play the song he’d already performed, just on a different instrument. However, it only took a matter of seconds for Tilly to realise Harry had evidently never played the piano before. She didn’t stop him though. Only smiled as she watched his tongue poke out from between his rosy lips concentrating on a particularly hard combination. His eyes would squint as he looked between the paper and the keys, trying desperately to follow the notes correctly, but when a wrong key was hit and the off tune sound bounced off the walls, his brows would raise so high in surprise Tilly thought they were going to disappear.

Tilly had thought the seed of hope that Harry had planted when he said her name on the stage days before, had wilted and rotted when she left without seeing him; never giving it a chance to grow. But now, with every wrong note played and small cheer of elation when something went right, Tilly could feel the roots of hope and happiness beginning to spread, getting ready to fully bloom.

Although she admired his concentration and perseverance, the out of time and off tune notes meant her own fingers were itching to push him away and play it herself. As much as he tried he didn’t seem to be getting much better, and after what must have been the tenth attempt at one particular set of notes, Tilly could no longer hold in the giggle that had been resting in her throat.

“What happened!? You did so well on Saturday too!” She teased, sliding along the bench closer to him, stopping when their arms touched.

She giggled again when she took in the expression on his face. His jaw dropped open as if he was offended, but she could see the dimple on his cheek starting to form, so she didn’t feel bad laughing at his feeble attempt.

With a sudden burst of confidence Tilly reached out for his hands that were resting against the keys, and took them in her own. Pressing against his fingers in the way they should have moved if he was following the notes correctly. It didn’t sound great, a few wonky notes being hit every so often as their intertwined fingers slipped away, but the accompanying laugh from Harry still sounded like music to Tilly.

Her short hair had fallen from behind her ears, but even through the curtain of waves she could feel his eyes on her when they came to the end. His hands pulled away first, reaching out to push back the hair that hid her from him. A full smile stretched across her features, the freckles on her cheeks seeming to come to life, like stars in the night sky. Harry knew if he could make a wish what he would ask for.

And while Harry saw the stars on her cheeks, Tilly saw the world in his eyes. So bright, and green, and true, she knew they held the answers to questions she hadn’t asked yet, that in times of darkness they’d be the only light she needed. That the green colour that had been etched on her mind, was the same colour green as the leaves that grew from the seed of hope he’d planted within her.

When he leaned towards her, his hand still delicately holding the side of her face, Tilly thought that perhaps the flowers that were sure to bloom from that seed, would be the same shade of pink as his lips.

The kiss was soft and gentle, like the way they had always been with each other, neither one brave enough to push too far, but still a sense of wanting more. Her captured lips were sweet like the pastry she’d snacked on earlier, and their mouths melted together like the icing that had been drizzled on top. Her hands found resting place on his chest, the warmth seeping through her fingertips and into her veins, encasing her in a feeling she’d never known before.

As they pulled apart his thumb grazed lightly over her freckled cheek, as if mapping out the stars, creating constellations he’d look for again and again. She watched as his eyes searched over her skin, and she took advantage of his slightly dazed state to drop a last peck to his lips.

“I think I should stick to the piano, and you should stick with singing.” She mused, nudging him further up the bench with her hip. Her hands automatically found their place on the keys, and the tune that was now so familiar to them both, began to flow between them.

He smiled down to her, completely overwhelmed and in awe, as the dainty fingers that had rested on his chest moments ago danced across the instrument so gracefully.

“What d’ya think?” She asked with a smile, just before the chorus hit.

Harry sang, and Tilly played. In perfect harmony the song was performed like never before, but in such a way that they both knew it was something special.

When the final notes faded out and Harry placed his lips to her hers once more, he knew next week, and the weeks after that, that he’d be arriving at the Red Brick Music Room even earlier again.

#1dff #harry styles #1dff summer fic exchange 2017

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