Disclaimer: I am currently eating Chinese takeout while writing. I'm living the #hava dream. 

| forty-nine |

“I’m going to talk to my dad.” 

“I’m going to talk to my dad.” 

“I’m going to talk to my dad.” 

The sentence kept replaying over and over in Harry’s mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling off of him. He knew that it was her father. He knew that she was curious as to what happened. He also knew that she was furious with him and wanted to keep him dead to her. Yet here she was now claiming that she wanted to talk to him. 

It had been a few days since Ava had confided in Harry and confessed her desire to confront her father. It still irked him. He wanted to protect her. From hurt, from the cruelty of the world and the people that live in it, but most importantly he wanted to protect her from her father. She had asked him to see if her dad, Flint, was still in town. He had told her yes, that he would ask Adam about it, but he wasn’t actually wanting to do it. He couldn’t bring himself up to ask. The thought made him want to punch the wall. His hands would ball into fists. His breathing would become rigid. He wanted to make sure that she was kept far, far away from him. 

But Ava was persistent. 

She had called him the following day in the morning to remind him to ask about Flint. 

She then texted him five more times to ask.  When Harry would not respond to her persistent text messaging, she would then call him once again. He knew that he couldn’t protect her from her father. He knew that his only choice was to ask Adam about her father and if he was still around. 

The walk to Adam’s office seemed longer than usual. He felt like he was walking to his own death sentence. After a few swift knocks, a low “come in” summoned him in. 

“Hey, do you have a minute?” Harry asked from outside the door. He held it partially open so that only his head and left leg was peeking in. 

“Yeah kid, come in.” 

Harry walked in slowly towards the vacant chair that sat in front of his boss. He took in a swift breath. “Just do it, you wuss.” As much as he hated himself for doing this, he went and asked the one question he did not want to ask. 

“Is Flint Hastings still in town?” He asked bluntly, not bothering to beat around the bush. 

“Yeah he is. Why?” 

“Ava. She wants to see him.” 

Adam looked at Harry sympathetically. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? For her?” 

“She’s the one that kept pestering me to ask. She wants to talk to him. God knows why, but she does. So do you have a number she could call or something?” 

“He’s only here for a few more days. He’ll be in tomorrow to sign a bunch of books. Have her stop in after two. He should be done by then.”

“Alright.” Harry stood up and briskly made his way over to the door. 

“But Harry?” Adam called out after him. 

“What?” 

“Make sure you’re here with her. If she is talking to her dad who she thought was deceased this whole time, she’s going to need someone there with you. I don’t know what you two are, and I don’t care to know, but I saw how you were looking at her at the party. Just be there for her, okay?” 

Harry only nodded and walked out not saying another word. 

As he made his way back to his desk, he couldn’t help but debate wether or not he was going to even tell her about this. He didn’t want to set her up for heartache. Images of her crying frantically on Friday night replayed in his head. He felt the hatred creep up inside of him as he recalled that night. The way her eyes became a shadow of the spark she used to hold still haunted him. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out to himself. “What the fuck am I going to do?” With one swift motion, Harry pushed the stack of papers on his desk off. He bit down on his lip as an attempt to keep the rising anger at bay. 

Without giving it another thought, he got up and made his way out of his office and down the elevator. As he began to storm his way through the lobby, Mack’s taunting voice carried over to him. 

“Leaving so soon, Styles?” 

Harry stopped in his tracks. He glared over to where Mack was seated at his desk. “It’s none of your business, Enders.”  And with a swift motion of his protruding right hand, third finger only, he walks out of the building, leaving the roars of “You’re a prick” in his wake. 

“Dick.” He says to himself as he jumps into his rental car. 

-

He held his phone in his hands. He flips it over a few times as he contemplates his next move. His finger lingers over the call button that sits beside her name. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair while letting out a puff of smoke escape his lips. He wraps his plump lips around the lit cigarette and takes in another puff of smoke. 

He mentally scolded himself for not giving up on his bad habit. He knew that this was all because of the stress that lingered over his life. But with his personal stress reliever being back in his life, he knew he needed to let this habit go. 

He puts the cigarette out on the ashtray that sits outside on his balcony and makes a mental note to stop at the local grocery store to pick up a pack of Nicorette gum. He was going to quit starting tomorrow. He holds his phone once again in his sweaty palms and tells himself to call. 

He doesn’t give it another thought and presses call. 

- 

Ava was sitting in her living room with her phone in her hand. She had been waiting anxiously all day to hear from Harry. She needed to have him tell her that Flint was still in town and to give her a time to come by. Her mind kept telling her this was a stupid idea. She knew that she would blow up in his face once she sees him. But her heart kept reminding her that this was her dad and regardless of what he did (him and her mother) she needed to see him. It had taken a lot of mental persuasion to even come to the conclusion that she was going to talk to him in the first place. That was why she needed Harry to make this happen or else she was going to back down. And that was the last thing she wanted to do. 

Her phone begins to buzz in her palm. She drops it out of surprise. She quickly retrieves it and presses answer.  

“Harry?” She half-yells into the phone. 

“Yeah, hey.” His voice was sombre on the other line. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Silence fills the line. 

“Did you, um, talk to Adam about my...  dad.” The word feels weird coming from her lips. She could clearly hear Harry’s breath hitch at the mention of her dad. It was clear how he felt about him. She knew that he did not like the idea of her talking to her dad. He didn’t have to voice his opinions to her. She just knew him well enough that he was against the idea. But she needed this. She needed a piece of mind and regardless of how Harry may feel about it, she had to do this. 

“Yeah. Your - father - will be at the office tomorrow to sign some shit books. Come by after 2 and you can talk to him.” 

“Okay.” Her voice meekly responds, “Thank you. I mean it Harry. Thank you.” Her voice is soft with each word that she speaks. 

“You know that I love you right?” 

Her heart still flutters as he speaks those three simple, yet heavy, words to her. She was in so deep when it came to Harry that she couldn’t even express it into words, because no word could deeply explain how much she loved Harry. “Yes. I do.” A small grin is plastered on her lips as she speaks. “I love you, Harry Styles. To the moon and back.” 

A small chuckle comes from the other line at the cheesy line. “To the moon and back.” He responds back causing more butterflies to erupt inside of her.  That was one thing that she appreciated so much about Harry. Regardless of what was going on, he still managed to bring butterflies and goosebumps to her body. 

“So two tomorrow.” 

“Yup.” 

“Okay. Okay! God, why do I feel sick just thinking about this?”
“Because it’s a stupid idea to talk to him.” He says bluntly. 

“Yeah, I know. But I just need this. For me. If that makes sense.”

“I guess. As fucked up of an idea it seems to me, I’m going to support you. Because I fucking love you and that’s what people do when they love someone. They support them regardless of how dumb the idea is.” 

“Thank you.”

“You already said that,” he laughs. 

“I know.” She laughs in response, “I just really mean it. Thank you.”

“Always, Ava. Always.” 

Silence creeps back into their conversation but this time it isn’t awkward as it was before. It was comforting. The even breathing coming from the other end brings an overwhelming peace to come over Ava. She could listen to Harry breathe for the rest of her life and it would never get old. 

“Can you be honest with me for a moment?” She asks him, unsure of why she was asking this. 

“I’m always honest with you Ava.”

“Beg to differ.” 

“Not again, Ave.” 

“I’m not scolding you or anything,” she laughs. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about. I want to ask you something.” 

“Go for it.” 

Ava takes in a deep breath and asks before she chickens out. “Do you not want me to talk to my dad because of what happened between you and your mom? Your real one?”  They had never really talked about what happened between him and his mother. She knew that he had ran off with some guy that she worked with but he never really talked more about it. She couldn’t help but wonder if the resentment that he had over relationships and love, and now her own father’s reappearance, was because of what happened with his mom. 

“What-” he spoke curtly. His voice grew dangerously low. She knew that this was sticky territory but she couldn’t help but wonder. 

“I’m just wondering if what happened with your mom is why you were so uptight when it came to relationships. Now with my dad showing up, he just seem extremely angry about it. I’m just wondering if it’s because of your own mom.” 

“Ava I don’t want to talk about her.”

“But that’s the thing, Harry. You never talk about your past. I always have to dig at you for it and then when I do, you get pissed off!” 

“Because it’s none of your damn business.” 

Her heart stings at each word that he speaks. 

“I’m your girlfriend, Harry. If you want this to be a healthy relationship then you’re going to have to talk to me about your past. If you want to have the right to protect me and get angry over my dad showing up, then you need to be honest with me. And right now, you’re doing a shit job at that.” Her voice grows louder near the end of each word that she speaks. She could sense that this was heating up fast. This wasn’t her intentions - to start an argument. It was just something that had been secretly eating up at her since that night she found out about his mom and step-mom. It just seemed like the right time if anything to bring it up. 

“Don’t give me that. Don’t you fucking give me that.” His voice was growing as well. He could feel himself begin to fume. Yet deep down he knew that she had a point. A valid point. 

“You know Harry, maybe getting back together was a bad idea.” 

“No”- 

“If you’re not going to talk to me about your past without getting drunk or clamming up, then maybe us being together was a bad idea.” 

“No Ava. Don’t give me that shit. You always do that! You always overreact over the most stupid shit.” 

“How the hell am I overreacting?” She yells now. 

“You want to break up over something so fucking stupid.”

“Me wanting to know you is not stupid.” 

The line goes silent. She automatically begins to feel guilty for bringing the topic up. She knew how sensitive he was when it came to his own personal demons. This was something that she had learnt the first few times they hung out as friends. Yet here she was trying to get her mind off of her own demons and bringing up his. 

 -

His mind was racing. He didn’t know how their conversation came to this point. All because of her fucking dad, he thought to himself. His breathing was rigid. He could feel the urge to lit up a cigarette kick back in and he gives in. He pulls out another stick and lights it up. He can hear her soft breathing on the other end. He knew that she was right. He knew that he should be more open with her. But he found it hard. It wasn’t as easy for him. His baggage and taunting demons from his past prohibited him from it. 

He takes a long drag from the burning cigarette and exhales slowly. 

“She cheated on him.” He spoke slowly, his voice dangerously low. He could feel his heart speed up as he begins to break down another wall. “She left my dad and I. I hated her.” 

“Go on,” she encourages softly. “Please.” 

Harry takes another deep breath and continues. 

-

A/N: A minor cliffy! Because I don’t do those as often as I should ha. 

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