noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis
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summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour
word count : 5.7k
part one here
a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx
masterlist <3333
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Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better.
After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to.
Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.
She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London.
It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while.
While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off.
So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.
But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist.
It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat.
She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time.
As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.
Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather.
''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’
‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’
Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’
She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’
‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.
‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.
‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’
''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’
‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’
‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’
Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought.
‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’
Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’
The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory.
‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’
They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers.
''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’
Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days.
‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’
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A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.
After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots.
Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer.
It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them.
Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.
Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work.
As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.
The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.
Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space.
Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven.
It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did.
Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain.
She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.
She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect.
Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.
As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.
With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind.
Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot.
She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.
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Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.
She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up.
With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.
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The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout.
The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back.
The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.
His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face.
‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’
Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’
She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’
‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed.
‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.
‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’
‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours.
‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’
‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her.
‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back.
A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact.
‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.
Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go.
‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’
‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’
Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’
‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’
‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’
And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous.
‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night.
Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person.
‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor.
‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’
‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’
‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest.
‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was.
"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’
‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’
Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’
‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’
‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.
‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.
‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’
‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words.
‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’
‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’
‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’
‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’
‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’
So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly.
‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.
‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.
‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked.
What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident.
‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’
‘’Hmm maybe.’’
‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’
‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement.
‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.
‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’
‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’
‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’
‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned.
‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.
The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in the morning to sort out admin for the cafe.
‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.
‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.
‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’
‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless.
‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’
‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed.
/
Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa.
Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night.
She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.
She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry.
Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it.
On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’
With a little smile on her lips as he fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.
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a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333
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SKI TRIP .. part one ⠀,⠀ chrismd.
synopsis ✩ you and chris hate each other, but a ski trip and some forced proximity changes everything.
warnings: gn!reader, drinking, series
authors note: a chrismd series! this isn’t my favorite piece of writing of all time, but i just needed to push out more chris content for myself and the other chris girlies out there. consider this little series my petition to be your favorite chrismd writer <3 thank you to @imredjack for the idea xx
THE FLIGHT TO FRANCE WAS A BREEZE: no turbulence, no boarding issues — you couldn’t have been more lucky. the crisp, cold air coveted your skin like a blanket as you exited the airport, scanning your new surroundings. even though you lived in europe and traveled around surrounding areas, you had never been to france. you liked the uk — if it were up to you, you’d never leave forever, though a holiday was pleasant once in awhile.
“bonjour,” you were greeted by your friend, george clarke, who spoke thickly with a fake french accent. you couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he spoke. you were surprised to find yourself in the position you were in. you didn’t know that helping george plan a trip with your mutual friends would result in you being invited. you had known this group of boys for years. being a friend of george’s since primary school, you became a videographer for him once he started his youtube career. because of this, you had become close with the others; the arthur’s, harry, will — the list went on. with your experience with social media, you had been a help to all of them with occasionally manning the camera. “comment vas-tu en cette belle soirée?” the teasing back from you made george roll his eyes. “ok — ok, i dont know that much!” as you laughed at his response, you found your thoughts slipping. the first glimpse you had seen of the french alps were gorgeous, but you still couldn’t help but feel awkward. as you scanned around, george and arthur in view, your eyes landed on chris. christopher dixon was something else. if it was up to him, you wouldn’t have been invited on this trip. but it was up to his best mate, george, and what george said goes.
chris was not fond of you in anyway possible and you were not fond of him. nothing particular had happened between you two, but the hateful tension always remained. you had heard from the other boys that chris hadn’t talked the best of you; always commenting on your clothing style and such in odd ways; but you didn’t let that bother you. instead, trying to keep the bond strong between all your friends, you never confronted him about it — the pity feelings you had between each other were mutual. piling into the taxi that would take you to your hotel, you sat yourself next to arthurtv who greeted you with a smile. you were far more fond of arthur and george and that thought made you mentally pray you’d be roommates with them for the holiday.
the taxi came to a stop, the driver tipping his hat at you as you slipped a fiver into his tip cup. once again the new feelings of the french air tickled your skin as you exited, george handing you your luggage that he had pulled out of the trunk. “alright,” george pulled out several room keys from his pocket, preparing to distribute them among the others. “this one’s for arthur(tv) and i — harry and arthur,” george handed harry the room key, “and chris and y.n—“ a cheeky smile formed on his face, making your eyes twitch. george knew that you and chris despised each other — you knew him rooming you with chris was all apart of some fucked up plan. “thanks—“ you were short as you snatched the key out of his hand. “can i room with arthur instead? please?“ that jersey accent had almost made you vomit as he spoke. “be nice to them, ok? c’mon, you both have a lot in common and i’m sure by the end of this trip you’ll be good friends!” george didn’t sound so sure of his words, he just hoped and prayed chris would give you the benefit of a doubt and not kill you.
you trudded your way up the stairs, reading the room numbers on the door as you and chris approached yours. you couldn’t help but mentally curse george for what he had done; later you were sure to say something to him, but for now you just had to make this work. you inserted the key into the door, twisting the doorknob. to your dismay, the door did not open and you found yourself standing there somehow even more stupid in-front of chris. before you could go to try the doorknob one more time, chris grumbled, nudging you out of the way as he twisted the doorknob. to your frustration, it opened with the first turn. “it’s really not that hard, innit?” chris opened the door as he spoke. “look — can we please just spare each other a bloody second? ok, we’re on holiday, yeah? we’re supposed to relax. i think me and you can lay off each for a week.” you didn’t mean to snap, but it happened, causing chris to stop dead in his tracks as he stepped into the room. “ok, yeah sure, but if you so much as set me off one time, this isn’t going to be easy for us.” you didn’t know what he truly meant, but you didn’t care. you pushed yourself passed chris and fully into the room, this time you being the one to stop dead in your tracks. “are you fucking kidding me right now? do you see this? those fucking basterds,” to your surprise, and chris’ as well, there was only one bed. you practically vomited at the thought of having to share a space with him and a bed was even worse. “is this your doing?” you couldn’t help but be even more irritated by his words. “really? you think i’d arrange this? why don’t you ask the boys? maybe they think you fancy me or something and are doing you a favor.” you had seemingly set chris off, but he tried to contain himself. “you wanna know what? you can sleep on the chair, i’ll sleep on the bed — problem solved.” he walked himself into the room, placing his luggage onto the bed. “yeah, right.” you rolled your eyes. “why can’t we just share the bed? we’ll have separate blankets — everything will be fine as long as you don’t touch me.” you spoke. chris shot you a glare, pulling his luggage off the bed, now placing it on the floor. “fine, but just this once.”
you had seemingly sorted out the room problem with chris, but that did not stop you from scolding george later that night at dinner. “why’d you do that? are you trying to ruin this holiday?” your words were more playful as you tried not to upset george — more issues were the last thing you needed right now. “im doing you a favor, ok? this will be good for all of us. you’ll finally work things out with him and then we’ll all be best mates.” he tried to laugh through your frustration, which only made him nervous about what he had done. “if this only makes things worse, i know who to blame.” “—blame me too!” you look over at harry whose normal resting face was replaced with a big grin. “you cheeky basterd.” was all you managed to get out before the waiter came over with the check.
the night had passed swiftly. you and chris had went the rest of the night without communicating much, which was good for the both of you. chris and yourself entered your shared hotel room, slightly drunk as you sat down on the bed. “remember our deal — we each get our own side of the bed.” he spoke, pulling his shirt off and throwing it to the side. you found yourself staring at him a bit too long; studying each line of his abs. as much as you hated chris, you acknowledged he was good looking, but you wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that. unfortunately chris seemed to notice this, which caused him to furrow his brows. “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” his teasing made you roll your eyes — you were sure not to fall for it. “in your dreams.” you didn’t know if it was the alcohol making you think this way, but you hoped it was. even though you should have looked away, you studied chris carefully as he put on a clean top. shaking yourself out of these thoughts, you reminded yourself of the distaste you had for him — the way he’d say odd things about you behind your back, the way he couldn’t stand to even be in your presence. you found yourself calming back into your little world where a pleasent thought of chris did not exist.
once it came time to sleep, you could see the disgust on chris’ face as he climbed into your shared bed. as much as you hated you had to be in the same vicinity as him, you didn’t think it was the biggest deal in the world. “do you snore?” he asked, as he pulled the blanket over his legs. “nope, i bet you do.” chris rolled his eyes, a slight huff escaping his lips as he rolled over, his back facing you. you took this as a sign turn off the beside lamp and get yourself situated to sleep. no thoughts of sharing a bed with chris bothered you as you drifted off to sleep.
“so, how was last night?” george asked you, a teasing manner slipping from his lips even though he tried to contain himself. “what? you think we’re just going to fuck and get over things? you’re sick.” you weren’t completely serious, or mad at george, but you wanted him to know his little plan wouldn’t work out as well he thought it would. you scooped yourself some eggs from the hotel’s breakfast, grabbing yourself a fork before sitting down next to harry. similar to george, he began to bombard you with questions. “didn’t make up yet?” he raised his eyebrows, pulling a scoop of hash-browns to his mouth as he took a bite. “no, and unlike george, i don’t think it’s going to happen.” “why can’t you guys just fuck already?” your eyes darted over the table, raising an eyebrow at arthur’s sudden proposal. you practically spit out your bite of eggs at his words. “cmon, don’t laugh. you have so much sexual tension, we can all feel it.” you laughed. you had noticed chris glancing at you plenty of times before, shifting his eyes away the second you noticed. you noticed how he’d tease you — but again, you just expected it was because of his distaste for you. “oh sure,” you added sarcastically, taking a sip of apple juice as chris joined the table. you mentally prayed not another word would be said in that conversation, especially because chris was now present. “so,” arthur hill began to speak, setting his fork down next to his plate, “what’s the plan for today, georgie?”“well, we’re going to hit the slopes, of course. there’s also this little gig playing tonight at one of the hotels pubs — i was thinking we could go to that.” george responded. “good, i could use a fucking drink already.” chris perked up at the idea of a bar, and drinks at that, which made you laugh. “what? is having to share a room with y.n that bad?” arthur laughed. chris seemed hesitant to answer, which confused you a little as he was always quick to make you the bud of his joke. “it’s been a long week — well needed holiday.” his response seemed to confuse everyone at the table as george looked over at you, cockily raising his eyebrow. you knew his plan had a very generous slim shot at working, but chris seemed to be becoming more lenient on you — at least this morning. which made you question if chris had woken up on the right side of the bed this morning.
you and the group spent most of the day skiing and snowboarding — you skiing as it was always easier to you. it was a fun day; full of laughs, and you got to spend most of it away from chris which couldn’t have been better. “i dont think it even matters how many layers i have on, i’m freezing.” arthur shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as tight as he could to maintain some warmth. “it’s getting late now,” george spoke, checking his watch. it was now half past 5 and you were shocked once you put together that the six of you had been out in the snow for almost 8 hours. “the gig starts around 6, if we stop here we’ll have some time to get ready and warm up before then.” everyone seemed to agree with george’s idea and began to unwind. once getting back to the shack, everyone undressed themselves from their snow gear and laid it up to dry in lockers they had rented for the week.
you and chris made your way back to your hotel room again, not speaking to each other along the way. once you entered, chris wasted no time in preparing himself for the night — dousing himself in cologne and fixing his curled hair to the best of his abilities. he was one to dress casual, but he had caught your eye once he exited the bathroom dressed in something more put together. head to toe in black, chris wore black slacks and a black t shirt, which had you looking at him far more than you liked to admit. chris didn’t seem to notice as he walked around you, grabbing his phone before he sat down on one of the lounge chairs in the room. now having an idea of what the ‘dress code’ was for the evening, you began to get yourself dressed.
it never took you long to get ready — you had taken about 10 minutes this time — which still had chris’ panties in a bunch. a knock erupted on the bathroom door, causing you to huff slightly. “are you done in there? its almost 6, i’m going to leave without you.” you checked yourself out in the mirror one more time before opening the door, meeting face to face with the boy. chris stood there, your faces close to each other. you couldn’t help but feel annoyed as you noticed him studying you. “i was in there for 10 minutes, don’t get your panties in a twist, mate.” he scoffed, backing away from you which eliminated the noticeable tension. pushing passed him slightly, you grabbed your phone and had made your way to the door. chris took his fine time getting his shoes on as you did, which made you laugh at him softly. “look who’s taking a long time now.” “you just can’t be nice to me, can you?“ you scoffed, placing your hand on the doorknob behind you as you stayed facing chris. “i could say the same thing to you — haven’t shut your mouth since we got here. hell, you even objected to being roommates with me.” chris huffed under his breath, standing up from his once seated position. the vibes in the room shifted, but you couldn’t tell what you were feeling now. chris seemed slightly bothered at your words, which had you confused. “okay, i’m warming up to you,” your mouth laid a-gap and in pure surprise you practically chuckled. “i think we can stop being at each others throats — it’s what best for the both of us and the others.” “where was this side of chris when i told you we should be civil with each other at the beginning of the trip? what made you change your mind, huh?” before chris could even think of a response, a knock erupted on the door. to pull yourself out of this unwanted conversation, you opened it up to be met with george. “are you two ready?” he hummed and you nodded your head in response. chris made his way over to the door, stepping aside you before exiting first. for a second, your bodies brushed up against each other, sending a chill down your spine that you couldn’t quit understand.
for the duration of the walk to the pub, you walked behind the others, thinking of the conversation you had with chris. you couldn’t help but be angry at him. he had been at your throat since he met you; saying bad things behind your back, and now he had changed his mind quicker than you had imagined. if only in the beginning he had gotten time to know you, this would have never happened. you didn’t know what you had said or done that was so alluring to chris — alluring enough for him to change his mind about you. you recalled him studying your body shamelessly after you exited the bathroom. but if being impressed by your body was his reason for changing his mind, he was an asshole. “are you doing okay?” harry asked as he walked up next to you, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. “what? oh, yeah.” he pulled you out of your deep thoughts as he spoke. “you sure?” “just tired is all. i just need a drink to take the edge off.” you tried to work a smile onto your face, which seemed to be convincing enough for harry as he returned the smile. you didn’t remember the rest of the night fully. all you could recall was the flashing lights as rock music played and the countless amount of shots you had taken. you were absolutely smashed by the end of the night, according to george, who was also more gone than he’d like to admit. luckily, you could handle your drink unlike arthurtv, so you could still function semi-normally by the time everyone called it a night.
your memory of the nights events jogged a little when you woke up in bed next to chris; his body tangled in yours instead of on his side of the bed. a warm heat coveted your hips — his arms wrapped around it loosely. hot breaths down your neck made your spine shiver and your mind cloud as you assessed your situation. your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes adjusted to the sun peeking through the windows, the hangover prominent. your heart started to beat faster in your chest from embarrassment or even anxiety. over the past few days, you had gotten used to chris’ company. of course, it wasn’t your favourite, but you had realized it wasn’t as bad as you thought. to you, he was now bearable to be with, but not this close. chris began to stir in bed, making your breath hitch. once he had finally awoken, he was met with the situation you found yourselves in. squinting his eyes as they adjusted to the brightened room, chris couldn’t help but flush red once he noticed where his hands were. a mumble escaped his lips; one of an apology or just jumbled words — you couldn’t tell. he pulled his warm arms away from you, which made you feel naked from his grasp. you sat up awkwardly, sitting yourself up against the bed frame as you cleared your throat. chris huffed a little bit before he began to talk. “tell no one about this?” he seemed embarrassed, flustered even, as he spoke, a red hue accompanying his pale cheeks. you had never seen chris so quiet; so timid. a quick “mhm.” was all you could getting out without a hint of embarrassment hitting your face. a part of you couldn’t help but miss the warmth of his arms, but you knew it was stupid. you didn’t like chris and his new-found attitude didn’t change that. you still couldn’t help but crave his touch again, though. you knew that this thought was wrong, so wrong, but the idea of something wrong felt so good.
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