Harry's POV

It wasn't the first time I had been caught off-guard kissing a girl.

I distinctly remember a time in university, in my American Politics class, when the young, seventeen year old version of myself fell head over heels for a young woman by the name of Selina Price. She was in her twenties, I believe. Her hair was raven black and extremely curly, and her eyebrows framed her face very well despite how thick they were. She wore tortoiseshell spectacles, which paired nicely with the plum lip stain she donned every day. Selina had a reputation for wearing short skirts, which, as a hormonally rampant teenage boy, was very thrilling indeed.

My dorm-mate caught me making out with her in our room after a heated debate topic which I had rebutted her ineffectively (we argued the effectiveness of the death penalty and I was on the side opposing it; either way, I was beyond excited—we very nearly took off our clothes) and kindly told her on my behalf that I wasn't legal yet. That ended awkwardly.

Today I was caught off-guard by a three year old sticking her little fingers out the window and pointing at Sperling and me. What had my criminal life come to? What was next? Torturing my foes with apple juice? Knocking people out with toy guns? It really was a shame on my end.

"Momma, Aunty Clare has a boyfriend? Grandpa, look, Aunty Clare has a boyfriend!" she squealed excitedly, nearly falling out the window to get a better look at the two of us. Sperling pulled away from me, quickly clearing her throat and wiping my saliva off her lips with the back of her hand before racing over to ensure the little girl didn't topple onto the concrete while the car was still moving. I saw the looks on the faces of the rest of the people in the car; the older man looked horribly confused (perhaps even disgusted), the brunette woman had her jaw dropped in shock, and the red haired woman clapped her hands and roared with laughter. Their SUV came to a stop at the curb by Sperling's mailbox and the little girl sprinted out from the car.

"Hi, Aunty Clare!" she chirped, jumping into Sperling's arms with a wide smile on her face. She looked strikingly similar to the red haired woman whom I assumed to be her mother.

"Hey, Mabel, hey," Sperling greeted, picking her up and looking back at me with an air of uncertainty. I could tell that the same thing was running through my mind as her: how in the world were we going to pull this one off? The rest of the people came clambering out of the car with very different reactions.

"Clarine Yvonne Sperling, I can not believe that you would keep some...some boy away from your own father!"

"Dad, hush. Clarine's allowed to date; she's got a place to live and a job," implored the red haired woman towards the older man before turning to Sperling and lowering her voice. "Clarine, please tell me he isn't like Andy. God, remember that thing he used to do with his chopsticks? Uncultured swine."

"Dad, Hyacinth, really, it's nothing," Sperling tried to explain before getting cut off by the brunette woman.

"Clarine, he's so good looking! You know what they say about tall guys, right? They've got big di—"

"Child! I have a child!" Sperling interrupted her innuendo, pointing at Mabel and glaring at all of them. In turn, they all looked at me; I was sure I looked like a deer in the headlights. Without a clue of what to do next, I raised my hand and waved. Sperling turned to face me and took a deep breath in. "Everybody, this is...Trevor, my...boyfriend?"

She hesitated. She was uncomfortable with lying. Jesus fucking Christ, this was going to difficult. I stepped forward to join her.

"Trevor, this is my dad, Quentin,"—I shook his hand; he didn't look very thrilled and nearly crushed my fingers with his grip—"my sister, Hyacinth,"—I shook the red haired woman's hand, and she willingly shook mine as she bowed her head at me—"and her wife, Alexa."

Wife. That made sense. I shook the brunette woman's hand too.

"And this is their daughter, Mabel," Sperling added, turning so I was face to face with the little girl. I smiled and waved, but she hid her face in Sperling's neck; it seemed that once she was near me her excitement dissipated into timidness.

"Mabel, can you say hi?" Alexa prompted, but Mabel shook her head and clung tighter to Sperling. "I'm sorry, she's a little shy around strangers."

"It's fine. I'm a giant to her anyway," I chuckled, shoving my hands in my pockets. Alexa whispered something to Hyacinth about my accent—typical.

"I didn't know you guys were stopping over so soon," Sperling said, looking to me for confirmation from time to time.

"We thought we'd give you a surprise and show up early, but it seems like you had a bigger surprise in store for us!" replied Hyacinth as she looked around and noticed Sperling's luggage by her door. "Were you planning on going somewhere? Did we come at a bad time?"

"No, no," she insisted, "we...uh..."

"We just came back from Vegas, actually," I finished. "We spent a couple days together there."

Her dad looked like he was going to pass out.

"Vegas! Where'd you stay? Was it hot?" Alexa asked.

"Um, yeah. Really hot. And we stayed at the Bellagio," Sperling noted. Her sentences were getting choppy. I had to get her out of lying soon.

"You know, I really wish you guys had called or something. Clarine's told me a great deal about you and I've been hoping to meet you for a while now, but I'm actually on my way to Prague for a bit," I stated, placing my arm around Sperling's waist to make my story more believable. "Visiting friends and family and stuff."

"Prague? We were actually planning a trip for a cross-Europe tour and I think we're stopping there—it's Prague, right Alexa?" Hyacinth asked. She shrugged, and Hyacinth continued on. "We're heading there in a couple days, actually, and we were going to invite you"—she looked at her sister—"to come with us. It'd be really great if we could all go there together!"

"Babe, that's such an amazing idea," Alexa praised, slipping her hand into her wife's.

"I don't have the money for that, Hyacinth," Sperling said quietly, "and besides, Trevor needs to go—"

"We've already paid for your ticket, Clarine, so you're coming regardless. You still have those vacation weeks from last year, right?"

"Well yes, but—"

"Then it's settled! I got a promotion at work and they want me to do this fashion article for—"

"Can we not talk about this outside?" Sperling cut, rubbing Mabel's back. I wondered what caused her sudden change in tone, and I think she realized how sharp it was too. "Let's go inside. You guys are probably tired as it is."

Her family agreed and turned to grab their necessities—purses and whatnot—from their car while I offered to carry a few of Mabel's toys (who had fallen asleep on Sperling's shoulder). I walked inside with her while everyone else was collecting their things.

"I can't do this," she panicked under her breath, "I can't lie to my family, Harry—"

"You have to," I urged, hoping she wouldn't spill about who I really was; I was certain her father would kill me if he found out I was actually Harry Styles the con artist instead of Trevor Paxon, Clarine Sperling's 'boyfriend'.

"God, and now they want me—us—to go on some European expedition—we can't. I can't—I just—"

"Calm down, calm down—"

"I can't calm down!" she whispered viciously. "You can't leave now because they'll get suspicious and if you leave later—"

"Sperling, just breathe," I coaxed. She glared at me as she held Mabel in her arms. "I can leave later. Bria isn't going to disappear in a matter of hours. I'll stay here until they leave."

Her breathing calmed, stroking Mabel's red locks. This wasn't going to be an easy task, but I was sure we could pull it off for a bit.

"Hey," I began, "look at the bright side: maybe we'll bump into each other in Prague, yeah?"

She smiled and I wished she wouldn't stop doing so, ever. Her family walked in just as we finished talking and made various comments about how bland her home was and how they never thought Clarine would find somebody that didn't want to make them gag (I was very flattered by this). While Sperling, Hyacinth and Alexa got Mabel settled into her room (which, I surmised, was the one I had seen before meeting Sperling for the first time), Quentin sat me down for a mini-interview.

"So, Trevor," started Quentin with a very serious face, "do you live with Clarine?"

"No. We visit each other a lot, but I haven't stayed over or anything," I answered, hoping my elaborated lie would do me justice. I had never met another girl's parents before; Bria never mentioned anything about her mother and father in the time we had known each other.

"But you slept together in Vegas?"

"Uh...well, yes. Within a fair proximity. We weren't very close at all, actually," I stammered, not knowing what he wanted to hear. Her father must've really loved her to be asking such bizarre questions.

"Hm," was all he said, racking his mind for more interrogation questions, "Trevor, are you educated?"

"Yes, quite. I've got a Masters Degree in Engineering, a Major in Applied Algorithms and a Minor in Biochemistry," I replied. It felt nice to be able to say that without having to lie. I always incorporated my education into my identities. Quentin's attention seemed to perk up; I was hoping he was slightly impressed by me, but I wasn't quite sure why.

"Is that so? Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living?"

"I'm an operations manager"—shit. I couldn't tell him I worked at a junkyard. I had to come up with something better—"at an electronics manufacturing company. Making sure things run smoothly, you know?"

"That's...that's good. That's good, Trevor," he praised, relieving me of the stress that had built up in me, "I'm glad Clarine chose a young man like you. You seem well rounded, and you're clearly intelligent. And honest."

Honest? Fuck.

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't call him 'sir', Trevor," Hyacinth called from the stairs as she descended with her wife and sister. "He'll make you call him that for the rest of your life."

They all laughed and joined us in the living room as Sperling went to prepare tea in the kitchen. I excused myself to help her, making my way to where she was and wrapping my arms around her waist from behind—I knew they were all watching us.

"Your dad's interesting," I whispered as she filled the kettle with water.

"Protective," she corrected.

"We've gotta talk about our cover for a bit. We can't slip up," I said quietly, pressing a kiss to her cheek directly afterwards to avoid her family's scrutiny.

She nodded, turned the stove on, and announced, "Trevor and I are going to discuss something for a minute upstairs—we'll be right down!"

She pulled me up the stairs and into her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

"Okay. Right. I'm Trevor Paxon. I'm twenty-five, I graduated from Portland State University, I have a Master's in Engineering, a Major in Applied Algorithms and a Minor in Biochemistry, I'm an operations manager at an electronics manufacturing company—"

"What happened to the junkyard?"

"I changed it so I could impress your dad—"

"You were trying to impress my dad?" she smirked. I rolled my eyes and continued on.

"Where did we meet?" I asked.

"Uh...a bar?"

"No, I don't want him to think I drink."

"But you do—"

"Just...how about the train? Maybe on a commute to work?"

"Okay. Have we slept together?"

"Yeah—I mean no. No, we haven't. I told your dad that all we do is visit each other—"

"That's boring—" she snorted.

"—and that we didn't really sleep close together in Vegas."

"You do know how unrealistic that sounds, right? I thought you were supposed to be good at lying?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow and grinning like a fool at my frustration.

"I'm freaking out, okay? God, I've never had to impress anybody before—" I explained, using my hands to convey what I felt.

"Harry, just...it's okay," she said, holding my arms and looking straight into my eyes. "They're my family. They won't hate you. And besides, you're leaving tonight and they're probably never going to see you again. You don't want them to be too devastated over me losing someone as fantastic as you make your persona out to be."

I hadn't thought about me leaving until she brought it up, and it stung a bit inside.

"I...okay. Okay, I trust you. How long have we been together?"

"Not too long," she replied, thinking about the mathematics of our so-called 'relationship'. "They saw me during Christmas, so let's say two and a half months? But we've known each other for a year."

"Right. Okay. We can do this, yeah?"

"Yeah," she finished, smiling. I took her hand and led her down the stairs again. The kettle was on the verge of whistling; Sperling poured the boiling water into the glasses and I helped her carry them over to the living room. Both of us took a seat on the couch beside each other and I was seated next to Alexa.

"How's work, Clarine?" her father inquired.

"I heard you destroyed a precinct car," Hyacinth added. Alexa slapped her leg and told her to shut up.

"I...yeah. I don't know...they put me in the office, but I think it's better that way because then I won't be in the line of fire, you know?" she admitted. I could hear the disappointment in her voice, but her face said exactly the opposite.

"That's good, Clarine. Mom would've...well, you're safe in the office," said her father. Everybody sat quiet for a moments; Sperling's lips were pursed into a thin line.

"So Hyacinth, Alexa, how did you two meet? I mean, of course you—" I began, hoping to strike a different conversation.

"Aren't a conventional couple?" Alexa chuckled, finishing my sentence. "We were surprised you didn't jump back in shock; most of Clarine's boyfriends were either completely put off by us or strangely turned on—it was really weird. Anyway, we met in high school—I think it was eleventh grade History, was it not?"

"It was," Hyacinth confirmed.

"Right, and I always signed my name 'Alex the Great' because I thought I was top notch and then one day, I looked over at Hyacinth, who sat two seats over, and I realized she signed her name 'Hyacinth the Greater'," she reminisced with a grin, "I knew she was the one."

I had never understood what was so wrong about same-sex marriages. I always believed that people made too much of a deal about something that should've been black and white.

"How about you, Trevor? How did you meet Clarine?" Hyacinth questioned. "This is the last question, I promise."

Technically I met Sperling when she discovered me laying on her couch after I had just broken out of jail, but it wasn't as if I could tell them that.

"Well we met on the train, actually. About a year ago, she and I were up really early and there were a couple people on board and she sat right at the end—where she always sits—and I...I don't know. She was always very sartorial and was never on her phone—I really liked that about her. She smiled when she came across someone that sat near her, and her eyes would light up—you know how they look a lot brighter when she smiles?—God, and when she smiled—" I broke off and looked at the woman I was talking about, who had a deep red flush settled on her face.

"Okay, I'm sure that's enough for us," Quentin rolled his eyes and chuckled, getting up out of his seat.

"Are you going somewhere, Mr. Sperling?" I asked, standing too. Why were they leaving so early? Did that mean I had to leave soon too? I really didn't want to.

"We've got to visit my family in Seaside and Salem. We've already made reservations for a hotel there"—which made sense considering Sperling didn't have any rooms left—"and Mabel hates long car rides. She was getting restless on the way here from the airport as it is," Alexa answered

"Mabel stays with me when they visit," Sperling whispered in my ear.

"We'll be back within the next couple of days though," Hyacinth stated, "so hopefully Mabel warms up to you. And Clarine, don't forget to pack! We're leaving on Friday and we'll be gone for two weeks. Trevor, please consider coming with us—it'd mean an awful lot if you did."

Sperling and I nodded and helped them with their things. She grabbed a handful of papers from her sister and before long, we were waving at them from the front door.

"I'm sorry, I totally forgot they stay for like, an hour when they first arrive in town," she excused, rubbing her temples.

"It's fine. Are you okay though?" I asked, noting her clear distress. She closed the door and went to grab my things from the sofa.

"Family reunions aren't my favourite," she admitted, handing me my belongings. "I mean I love them, but it's just...my dad has his expectations, my sister's basically God's gift with her journalism thing in Toronto...it's hard to keep up, that's all."

"I think you're just fine," I told her.

"Are you saying that as Trevor Paxon, Clarine's amazing boyfriend?" she laughed, leaning on the empty space of wall by the door.

"I'm saying that as Harry Styles, the con artist," I replied. The desire to kiss her again was growing stronger. I really had to learn how to abstain from such impulses.

"Well," she looked at her watch, then turned to look at the clock on her stove, then checked her phone; I thought she might've been trying to confirm the time, and possibly hope it was wrong so that I wouldn't have to leave so soon, "you should get going."

"Yeah," I concurred, but I didn't really mean it. "It was really nice meeting your family."

She nodded. I was certain I saw her lip quiver for a moment. There was something about saying goodbyes that got people so worked up all the time—perhaps it was the uncertainty of seeing them again. I would have very much liked to see Sperling again, maybe in a book store or walking on the street or randomly at a TriMet station, but that was for the future to hold—I had places to be and someone in particular to find. I turned to the door and opened it, stopping half way out to the feeling of Sperling's hand holding onto mine.

"Send me a post card, okay?" she requested, "I collect them."

"Definitely," I laughed. "You take care of yourself, yeah?"

Sperling nodded her head and tears started to well in her eyes.

"God, no—please don't cry, oh my God," I coaxed, pulling her in for a hug and strokng her hair. Everything she did made me want to stay even more. "I'm not going to forget you, I promise."

"I don't believe in promises, Styles," she sniffed, "I told you that."

"Well I'm just going to have to prove it to you, aren't I?"

We kissed again, slower this time, and savoured everything about each other. I really shouldn't have, but it was such a feeling—one of absolute confidence and contentment—that I didn't want to stop. Eventually we pulled apart, feeling a bit emptier altogether when we did so.

"Bye, Styles."

"I'll see you around, Sperling."

With a swift movement of my arm, I put my sunglasses on. I didn't dare to turn around as my feet carried me off in fear that I would want to run back to her the moment I saw her. Half of me was hoping she'd sprint after me and plead for me to stay, which I would outwardly decline but then give in and accept, but all I heard was the faint sound of her door shutting behind her.

It was for the best anyway. I needed to book my flight and catch a ride to the airport as soon as possible. Bria was still out there and I couldn't let her slip away (but, admittedly, I think I should have been thinking that way about the woman I had just kissed and left behind).

***

i hate goodbyes aw frick man i just FRICK LISTEN TO THE SONG IN THE MEDIA SECTION OK

((this is a boring chapter w/e deal with it bc it was necessary for character development ok))