Her head was pounding. No sunlight lit the window and Elise buried her head into the pillow.

Into the sand.

God, she had initiated a kiss. She had kissed Harry. And he'd kissed her back. She could still feel his big body over her and the way his hips had fit between her thighs, tailor made to her measurements. Maybe they were cut from the same cloth?

Who was she kidding? He was like the sheets she laid upon.  High quality and expensive. Her own nubby comfy flannels on the bed she hadn't inhabited in over a week in her own room, that was her level.

Was it only a week?

It felt like much longer. Days or months, Elise needed to figure out how to go about today. Did she do down and pretend nothing had happened and hope Harry said nothing? Maybe she took a page out of somebody else's book entirely and went down with "We should talk," on her lips. Did she want to talk?

Only if it meant they went back to the place they had been last night, with less clothes, and no alcohol.

That was why Elise had said no, to stop. They were both drunk. Inhibitions were lost, completely socially lubricated, honestly all over lubricated for her. It had felt good, so good and somehow despite the calendar like a long time coming. That's how it had felt to her, at least. She just had no idea how Harry had been feeling. The moment could have come to its natural conclusion, aided by spirit and enforced intimacy, but the fear that she'd have to go back then, to just his quarantine buddy, made her hang her head. She needed to find out where he was. Because if they went there and he wished they hadn't, she'd not come back. Elise didn't want to have him so close only to reverse and see any shade of regret on his face. Not the blue of letting her down easy, the green of regret, the gray of indifference, or the black of disgust.

That inverse rainbow would end her.

If she got to be with Harry, not the guy she had a crush on as a teenager, but the lovely, thoughtful, funny, and vulnerable man downstairs. She didn't want to see any dark colors afterwards, she wanted soft shades, painted like Easter eggs, light and happy. Giddy and ready to do it again, not write it off as a mistake.

Worst case, then they would have to survive the next several days, down to 5 before she could go home to isolate there, in a constant state of tension. She supposed they were in a state of tension now, but it was hopeful. It was leading somewhere good, or compelling. And still safe. There had been no catalyst so far, and she'd turned down the Bunsen burner last night. Sexual chemistry meant there could be a reaction anytime. She just needed it to be a good one.

So, alcohol induced sex was out.

Even if it would be the only sex she had really had besides that one time with that one guy just before she left Arizona, or her sister's scheming boyfriend once they'd made the first mistake and then just kept
on doing it.

She wanted it to mean something, a good something.  Not just be the hook up that happened because of proximity. Because Harry lacked another choice. The other times, she knew one had been because it was the end of the night and she had reciprocated interest. She didn't really know Bryce's reason. To see if he could, maybe? To hurt her sister when they were fighting? He said he liked her and he couldn't help it, and the attention convinced her it was mutual. She was attention starved, she'd realized, easy to manipulate with a little focused listening and sympathetic noises. Even fake sympathy and compassion, any human touch.

Elise wanted to be sure she wasn't just responding in the way she feared Harry would. Her response needed to be genuine. Were her feelings even genuine or just left over pieces of a crush? It would be easy to call it more while it was simply a teenage dream come true.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized she liked Harry, liked him liked him, despite himself.
Despite herself. He was a lovely person, even to be locked in a house with, no breaks or familiarity needed. And he'd been taking wonderful care of her. Better than anybody ever had. She'd say it felt like what she imagined best friendship to feel like, except she wanted to rip his clothes off half the time, all the time.

Was she brave enough to say that? Confident enough to see if he felt at all the same way? Elise severely doubted it, maybe she'd go down and feel him out. Pray she got to feel him up.

She was about to find out.

Elise was out of bed, ready to put something less nipply on when the wood of the door thudded three times in a row. It didn't sound angry. Decisive, if she went by his knock.

The door cracked before she could say anything. Impatient, Or just insistent? Must be later than she thought. Or he was upset about her kiss and run move last night. She had to roll her eyes at herself. Her not guessing his feelings was a good start, she had a habit of that. Guessing people's feelings and intentions. Her family didn't talk, or have feelings. Her whole life she'd spent a lot of time dissing out what someone's passive aggression meant and then acting according to avoid flares of temper. Words weren't that common, unless they were barbed or put downs. So, discussions freaked her out, but she was trying to be better.

"Can we talk?" She said it with him. That same page they were on was promising.

He chuckled and smiled at her. His cheeks were a little pink.

"Yeah, I'd like that. But could we do coffee first?" It wasn't a delay tactic. Coffee was her morning routine, maybe the only constant thing in her life right now.

"You need water as well. How's our head?" He walked in and touched her temple. When she didn't shy away, just flinched in shock, he gripped her hip with his other hand. It was at least related to an embrace, a cousin or something, and Elise looked up surprised, happy. That was a good sign.

"It's alright." She smiled.

"Let's make it better." He linked their fingers and pulled her down the stairs in her inadequate clothing and set about feeding and watering her.

He made her coffee, as he seemingly had every morning. Elise was sure her mom hadn't even been that consistent. Though she wasn't sure she could remember her life accurately, especially not how her parents treated her. "Beans on toast?" He asked and she screwed up her face. "Ok, not beans on toast. Not sure what you Americans have against it, but I can tell you, you're wrong." He shook his head and pulled out eggs.

"Eggs are my favorite food." She said.

"I know. Well, I guessed, from last week."

Was that only a week? How did he notice things in a matter of days people she lived with all her life never noticed? Maybe thats why she thought she had feelings, attention was a dangerous drug.

That sat next to each other, their thighs aligned and knees knocking occasionally. The third time she said sorry, he just quirked his brow and hit them together on purpose.

Elise laughed.

"You have the worst laugh in the world." He said with a fond smile on.

"I do not!" She knew it was a little like a braying horse. "How can you insult someone's laugh? And yours is ridiculous.

"Exactly like that." He turned himself and then her, slotting her legs between his knees.

"What?" He had totally distracted her with that move. She had noticed Harry was very tactile, they had been cuddling for a long time, from the jump, basically after they'd just met.

They'd really just met.

"That's how you mock someone's laugh. Just like that. And I don't mean I don't like your laugh, I love it. It's so loud and unrestrained. It seems like it's what you want to be like or were like?" He shrugged. "I guess I'm trying to figure out if you are always this nervous, or if it's just me?"

Nervous. No one had ever described her as nervous. But, she supposed she was always walking on eggshells, at least for the last two years or so. First with her family, because she was the bad egg, then because she was new to her flatmates' space and didn't know them, right now because, well more of that, except Harry.

"I didn't realize I was acting nervous." Elise swallowed.

"It's like you are always afraid I'm going to suddenly decide I dislike you. Let me clear this up, I like you, even if I've been trying not to."

Her jaw dropped.

His fingers gently closed it. "And that's why I've been giving you distance. Because I know you were a fan, and I'm trying to figure out if you like me or, him."

"Him who?"

"Him, Harry Styles, him." He waved his hand out.

"You are Harry Styles." She reminded.

He sighed. "No, I'm just Harry, I'm only him on stage. Or not at all lately, I've been trying to like integrate the persona and the real me."

"How do you integrate?" It seemed like a valid question, but his face looked like she handed him a Rubik's cube.

"I guess, I'm just trying to be more honest, open in general, but still protect my personal life. For a long time, I didn't say anything about anything, especially personal stuff.

She nodded along with him. She vaguely remembered people complaining about that on Twitter when her feed was transitioning.

"Even in music, everything was veiled, and I couldn't do that this time. The halfway stuff was abysmal. Since the music went so well when it was obvious, I kinda brought that into everything. And on tour, I just felt so seen, and loved for my transparency, it seemed right, felt right, to just be. But it's still a struggle. And I worry about people's intentions. Which I hate. Because you can never know someone's intentions."

"I do that too." She confessed.

"Human condition." He shrugged. "So, me or him, or us?" She watched him swallow thickly.

"I think I like the real you." Elise ventured. "I've actually been worrying over the same thing. It's confusing, kinda, to spend this much time with someone I used to have a big crush on and see that they're even better than I imagined. But, I'm like 98% sure it's you, or us?" She laughed a little at his wording.

"Yeah?" He looked happy. "I'm glad you like us." They both laughed and he touched their foreheads together. "I like the real you too, when you get excited and forget to be careful and laugh like heehaw and dance like a loon. I'd like if that Elise would just relax into being here without having to spend two hours psyching herself up in her room or drinking a bottle of wine or 4 shots of tequila. She's pretty great, if you didn't know." He nudged her with his elbow, and she gave him a shy smile under her lashes. "Wait a minute, what do you mean you 'think" you like the real me?"

Elise couldn't help but bray a little. "No, no, I like you! How considerate you are, and fun, and how excited you are about the things you like. Even your energy level, though I wanted to smack you in the gym—"

"That's what you wanted to do to me in the gym?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Oh my god!" She made an O with her face and he cracked up.

"You are so American! And I know exactly what you wanted to do in the gym." He smirked. "In fact, we could go workout right now. If you wanted to?"

"Do not dance your eyebrows at me." He was so damn endearing. "You're ridiculous."

"C'mon, I'm a dream!" He nodded until she rolled her eyes and smiled in agreement. "Workout?" He wiggled like a puppy.

"I'll take a rain check—"

"That's great, it rains here all the time!" He hurrahed.

"God, I know!" Elise thought of all the rain gear she had to acquire for the move and still add to upon arrival in London. "It rains like, never, or for two weeks where I'm from, a year!"

"Hey! That's a good idea." He lit up with possibility.

"I didn't have an idea." She reminded.

"I know, but you gave me one. I'm going to ignore the fact you are a slug and get a workout in. Then, we should do a puzzle."

"I veto puzzles." She drew a line with her hand and in the proverbial sand.

"You are very opinionated today!" He said.

"Sorry!" She'd tried to subdue that part of herself, self preservation of the less liked child.

"Don't stop, or apologize. I really like it." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I'm going to the gym. Watch tv or scroll insta or whatever you do and since you vetoed puzzles, you have to pick the activity. Then I'll teach you to cook cacio e pepe."

"What?"

"Pepper pasta. It's sooo good." He rolled his eyes with as much extra as a porn actress. "Then we can talk about how I know your favorite color but not your mum's name."

Oh shit. She was gonna need wine. Could she get out of this? He wasn't gonna like the real her after a conversation about her family. Or maybe about why she didn't talk about her family. She didn't like the real her thinking about it.

"Don't look so scared! Was your dad a serial killer or something?" He laughed at his own joke.

"No, my dad was a cop."

"Was?" He looked scared he'd hit a emotional land mine and didn't want to move or breathe and make it blow up.

"Is. A detective now." She sighed. "But I'll tell you later."

"K!" He winked and headed off, whipping off his shirt and looking back to make sure she saw.

He cackled. She knew she looked like a guppy. Tease.

Elise freaked out for the next two hours, and scrolling didn't help, nor did binge watching. Her normal distractions weren't working. Was Uber working now? When he asked her to leave later would they come get her? Should she just leave now?

She finally downloaded Animal Crossing on Harry's switch, and an hour into playing it she knew he would either thank her or curse her. Was sure they would be fighting over game time by tomorrow. The little vignette she mentally constructed had her smiling, imagining him holding it above his head on the sofa and her trying to reach it, until he fell back and she wound up stretched out on top of him. She was just imagining the obvious denouement of that moment when Harry came in.

"That's a dreamy smile! What are you thinking about?" He didn't give her a chance to answer. "Is it my cooking? Imagining the pasta I'm about to make you?" He rubbed his stomach. "I'm hungry now too!"

Elise narrowed her eyes. "Never had it. So can't imagine eating it. No, had nothing to do with you at all!" Lie. "My flowers grew in animal crossing." Truth.

"What's animal crossing?" He looked like a confused Labrador. She was gonna have to spend some time thinking about why she always thought of him as a dog. She definitely wanted to pet him.

"Harry! It's on your console!" She looked at him as he shrugged. "It's a very popular quarantine game. You have like a farm and animals and such. I'm gonna get a tiger, show that bitch Carole Baskin." They both giggled.

He was shaking his head. "Well can you play in the kitchen so I can see you while you ignore me and play your game?" She nodded and he explained the switch. "Jeff got the console for tour. I'm apparently 'a lot' and he and Glenne thought it might keep me busy.

"Ahh. Well, I can confirm you are, 'a lot!"' She posted up at the breakfast bar while he messed with some fancy metal appliance. And laughed when he mentioned something about a machete while chopping the squash. "Wine?" She asked. Elise wondered if they were out. But Harry had a steady shop delivery supply line going on.

"Yeah - you may have to stop tending flowers though." He held up his hand covered in the guts of the semi phallic vegetable. "Oh." She got up to mess with the bottle. "Red or white?"

"I like how you ask when you are gonna pick the red anyway." He chuckled while rinsing his hands.

"I could open both bottles." She reminded him.

"I suppose that's fair." He screwed up his face. He was gonna say something about pairing. "White would go better."

"But you want red?" She knew the answer. He liked things with a lot of flavor. It's why he drank tequila and red wine mostly.

"Don't laugh at me."

"You were just teasing me for the exact same thing."

"Well? We're a matched set!" He raised his eyebrows and made a show of pulling the pea filled with salt out of his two peas in a pod shaker set.

"That's cute." She poured his wine and a glass for herself. She needed to start getting some liquid courage going for this conversation. She knew better than to think Harry forgot. He was just lulling her into calm.

"Should see the cat and cat lady one I got my mum last Mother's Day! I was on a kick!"

"I like how excited you get for things." Elise nearly clapped a hand over her silly mouth.

"I like how you sometimes let your thoughts slip right out and then make that face!" He pointed. "Like your thoughts. Now drink your wine so we can talk."

"I can talk without wine." She grumbled.

"Maybe about something other than your family." He countered. "Take it easy though." He shrugged off the easy show of knowledge.

"Stop being intuitive. It's creepy." His dimples met his jawline and he turned to the sink so she could admire his back. Him working was quite the sight. She settled in for the coming hour.

The pasta was out of this world good, and she made the porn face, too, eating it. He hadn't been extra about it. The squash was great too, and the bread was sooo good. She was gonna have to get the name for the bakery before she left. Not that she could afford it.

She was so caught up, she hadn't noticed the ready to pounce look on his face. "So, how'd an Arizona girl wind up in London?" He asked.

She almost choked.

After she chewed and swallowed the suddenly huge, dry bite in her mouth she said, "that's a long story." And shook her head.

"Well, all we have is time." He topped up their glasses and rinsed the bottle, putting it in the recyclables. Purposely giving her a few minutes.

"Um, well. I always wanted to come here, because of 28 days later..."

"The zombie movie?" His eyes bugged. "That's a weird reason."

"Yeah, it was my favorite movie..."

"Weird flex but ok."

"Don't say that again, it sounds very wrong coming out of that mouth." She shook her head at him. He was so young, but him showing knowledge of meme culture always threw her off.

"This mouth!" He made a muppet pout at her. And she almost, she nearly, kissed it. God, his mouth was indecent. Elise was surprised at herself. If she kissed him she might have been able to avoid this conversation where she told him how horrible she could be.

That's what stopped her.

She guessed deep down, she wanted to tell someone. Or warn him off. She couldn't pinpoint her reason, not exactly.

Instead of kissing his pornographic pout, she pushed it away with her hand.  "Yeah, I loved that the greatest sense of fear, or eerieness wasn't from the gore, but from the isolation, the silence."

"Well, good thing you prepared for this!" He motioned around as though quarantine with him had been isolation. It was the most connected she had ever felt. When it wasn't manipulation.

"But I'm not alone though." She wanted to put her hand over his. She didn't. "But, he was, and in this huge old city, and you can see like everything. I just fell in love. The gray sky and the bridge and buildings older than any person. There are no buildings like that in Arizona. I mean maybe ruins, in the desert. And they are amazing in their own right, but nobody lives in them anymore. I wanted to come for a semester abroad."

"Seem slate for a semester abroad. They do those in grad school?" He put his hand over hers to still them. This wasn't even the hard stuff, she was working up to it.

"No, well, kinda, yeah. I'm in a graduate program. And it's about antiquities and international relations."

"Ahhh! Brexit." He didn't always show it, but he was whip quick.

"Exactly."

"Why didn't you come before though, aside from the clearly perfect timing of the universe thing?"

"Um, my family wasn't the most supportive. And my dad didn't want to pay the increase in tuition." That was a nice way to put it.

"What changed now then?" He did his golden retriever head tilt and Elise let her hand touch his tender cheek. He smiled. She'd remember that. Memorize his soft compassionate face when the Uber pulled away in a few hours.

"Um, well." Her eyes were already welling up and he gripped her hand in response. "I don't think it was they would have missed me more then. They didn't notice me so much. They just," she sucked in a big breath. "They just couldn't stand the sight of me anymore."

"I'm sure that's not true." He was shaking his head. "You're a beautiful sight."

She gave him a watery smile, she had no idea where it came from. "I'm not the pretty sister."

"Hard to believe that." He pashaad her.

She laughed. "No really, my big sister, she's really something. Elaine is smart and beautiful, taller than me, skinnier, just more."

"Really, or that's what it seemed like?"

"Don't be deep." They both chuckled a little. "If those things aren't true, they certainly seemed to be my whole life." He was shaking his head. "Really, she got to study abroad, in Paris, a whole year. They wouldn't help me come for a summer."

"They helped now."

"Oh, I love your optimism." She sighed. "I did this on my own. I had to get outta there." She took in a heartening breath. "They couldn't stand the sight of me before I left. Not after, not after." She kept choking over the truth, like an accidentally swallowed wishbone.

"Just say it fast, like a band aid." He gentled her.

She held fast to him, sure he would recoil in disgust in just a minute. "Not after I slept with Bryce."

The recoil didn't come. He just coasted his fingers over her knuckles. "Stop bracing. I clearly need context. Bryce just sounds like a wanky American name to me."

"He was, is, I dunno, she stopped talking to me...," she trailed off. "I assume they are still together." Blew out a harsh breath. "Bryce was my sister's boyfriend, informal fiancé, I guess." She cringed and looked at him askance. She was holding on to him hand tighter.

"Right," he said. "Do you want me to give you the reaction you are expecting?"

"What?"

"Would it make you feel better if I told you that was wrong and maybe threw in a harsh name or two?" He shrugged, she more felt her hand go with his body movement than saw him. Her eyes were firmly planted on the marble of the island.

"No, I've heard that enough." She saw the tear fall onto the gray swirl pattern.

He shifted suddenly and stood up, pulled her against him. "Listen, I don't know the circumstances, and I know it's been a whopping 9 days since I sneezed in your face." They shared a smile. "But I can't see you doing something to hurt someone on purpose."

"If I did it would be her." She confessed. It hadn't been to hurt her big sister, but that was something it had taken a long time to admit to herself. That hurting her might have been more reason to sneak around with Bryce than reason not to. The jealousy and constant comparison left a mark. To be found wanting her whole life hurt.

"No love lost, eh?"

"I love her. But she's mean, and my parents...." she trailed off. "They just love her, really obviously, more and she's impressive, prettier and taller and chose a major they approve of." She shrugged like it didn't matter, because it did.

"Can I guess a little?" She nodded. "He paid you attention. Even listened to you sometimes. Things happened and he didn't want to stop?And it felt like Bryce saw you, maybe chose you?"

Her eyes flew up. "That's, um, that's exactly how it felt." He wiped a tear. Nodded for her to continue. "I know, I knew, it was unforgivable and now I know it was a game, but then, it just felt like somebody loved me best, even if they shouldn't."

"What do you mean a game?" He was frowning.

"Bryce," she hated his name. "He told me later, he just wanted to see how far I'd go, how long, how despicable I was."

"But he was doing it too?" Harry reminded.

"Yes, but he didn't have to move to London, did he." She sighed. "At the end of the day, he's just a man, I was reminded, and she was MY sister. So, I'm the horrible one. Even if he did it on purpose."

"I feel like I should be offended for both of us." He kept her hand and walked around the island. "Cmon, let's go lay on the couch. I'll tell you a story. One where I made a big mistake."

"What happened then? Did it ever get better?" Did anybody ever forgive you?

"You have to wait for the story." He wrapped an arm around her and ushered her to the living room. He lay down on the couch and opened his arms to her. All her nerves about it were gone, because this didn't feel sexual like lots of their touches. It was comfort, a warm blanket or mug of hot coffee. Elise hadn't accepted a lot of comfort, except that of self flagellation.

His arms around her was like balm to a wound. And then his voice tumbled into her ear.

"You've heard the album, yeah?"

Well, there was no point lying, "um, yeah. You mean Fine Line right?"

"Yeah."

She nodded against his chest. It hadn't been on her heavy rotation list until she moved in with him. But now she listened to it most nights to guide her to sleep.

"So, it's clear then I had a breakup." He paused but didn't wait for a response. "Truth is, I can blame it on a lot of things, touring, my job, whatever. But, its me, my fault."

"Did you cheat?" She asked, he alluded to it in lyrics.

She felt his head bob. "But, honestly, I don't think that was my worst offense. I just got busy, and I didn't mean to ignore her, but I didn't make her a priority. She called, showed up when she could. But it had been so long since we talked. Felt so different to when we were together all the time." He sighed. "And then I let the distance grow, didn't always answer texts. And one night, I'd been out with the band." He paused like the next part was a piece of glass he was getting brave to pull out of his foot. "Woke up with someone, definitely not my girlfriend someone. And I didn't even have a manipulative wanker to blame." He glided his hand over her hair. "Just me. Course, I had to call and tell her. Said she understood and we could move past it. But then she stopped texting and I'd already noticed somebody popping up more in her insta, then I'm out, and he's in, and I can't even blame her."

"We all make mistakes." She offered, perching her chin on his chest. Her head felt heavy after the carb laden dinner and the emotional strip down.

He brushed his lips over her forehead. "We do. The trick is forgiving yourself for them."

"Have you been able to?" She rubbed her head drowsily against his slowing heartbeat.

"Today, because it maybe helped you. But ask me again in the morning, yeah?" He tightened his arms and was asleep before she could respond.

Not that she had one. Elise did feel lighter though, and drifted with him. She'd just shut her eyes for a moment, then she'd get off him and go to bed. Her own bed.