Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Series Summary: There are moments in our lives that have a major impact. The interactions, the adventures, and the love, all make up who we are. But when Harry can't remember those moments with YN, they are both left wondering what that means for themselves and their relationship.

Chapter Summary: This is the start of their story. Well, the start of the switch in their story, if you will. And if sympathy is in your soul, you'll want to pull it out because they will need it from the get go.

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Chapter Warnings: Car accident, hospitalization, memory loss, medications, and a lot of angst

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It's a surreal experience, to say the least. Everything happens in slow motion, but too quickly at the same time.

It was supposed to be a simple date night for you and Harry. Your plans involved having dinner at Tasty Palace, your favorite Chinese restaurant, and seeing a movie. You hadn't even bought a ticket, because the two of you wanted it to be a 'spur of the moment' decision- a fun way to make it interesting.

Your plans did not include a drunk driver, or an ambulance ride. Your plans did not include pacing outside of a room with your boyfriend on a hospital bed, waiting as he lies still and quiet, wishing with everything you have that he would wake up.

So you stand out there, staring at your phone, hoping that you were able to form some sort of sentence during your call with his mother, Anne.

As your eyes turn back towards the door, your vision becomes blurry and your mind becomes fuzzy. You feel your body start to get weak and barely hear someone calling for help.

•••

A soft voice brings you back to normal, and you blink your eyes open to see Anne kneeling in front of you.

"Oh thank goodness. YN, are you alright?" She asks, her eyes pointed at you without any sign of moving.

"I think so. Did I faint or something?"

"Yes. I arrived right as the nurse grabbed you to keep you from falling."

Your mind clicks into gear and your body sits up straight as can be, and your head snaps over to Harry's room.

"He isn't awake yet, darling." She sighs, and your shoulders slump down. "I'm here now, if you want to get some rest. You should rest."

You slowly shake your head. "I want to be with him."

"YN…"

"No!" You shout, causing a frown to form on your face at the shock of your own tone. "I'm sorry, Anne."

"It's alright, darling." She moves to sit in the chair next to yours, placing her palm on your back as she rubs it up and down to soothe you. "S'gonna be alright."

Tears flood immediately, and your face drops into your hands.

"I can't… I don't…" you utter, unable to keep your mind from beginning to think the worst.

She wraps her arm around your shoulders. "It's going… it's going to be alright… it's going to be alright."

She rests the side of her head against yours, as her own tears start to fall down her cheeks.

•••

Two days you've both been there, waiting. Calling family, friends, your boss, his boss… and waiting. Unable to give any updates, unable to give any answers, unable to process any of what happened, and unable to do anything but wait.

It is your turn for what you and Anne are calling a 'shift'. One of you stays in Harry's room, while the other takes a break to grab some food or coffee, reply to those texts and calls with no new information, and to clear the chaos of thoughts swirling around in your head.

You find the coffee machine that has the least disgusting choices, which are nothing to be excited about, and fill up two cups.

As you come back up to Harry's door, you notice a few more people have entered, and you take a deep breath before you walk in.

As you move around to where you see Anne standing, your gaze darts over to follow hers, seeing Harry's gorgeous and deep green eyes open for the first time since that daunting night.

"Oh my god." You whisper, handing Anne her coffee, as you try to keep your composure while the doctor explains the situation.

"Harry, you've suffered a TBI, which is a traumatic brain injury. Do you remember what happened?"

Harry just shakes his head.

"You were in a car accident, sweetheart." Anne exclaims, eyes flickering to yours with an grateful and relieved expression.

You just want to hold him, and kiss him, and nuzzle into his neck as you feel the joy of finally seeing him awake again.

"I… I was?"

"Now, we don't really know the extent of your injury. Only time, and maybe a few tests, will tell. But you are awake, and that's the first step. It's a good sign."

"Oh my god! I'm so glad you're okay!" You blurt out, rushing to the bedside just to touch his arm.

"Oh… Umm… Were you in the accident too?"

"Yeah, but I'm okay. Just some scratches, and bruising." You smile, squeezing his forearm, relieved to feel the muscles contract.

"I'm… I'm sorry." He utters.

"Don't be, Harry. It wasn't your fault."

"Oh. So…" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "So… does that mean… your car hit mine?"

"What?"

"Did we crash into each other?... Or…?"

"Sweetheart, now is not the time to joke around."

"Harry. It's me. YN."

"I'm sorry… I don't know… I don't think we've met…"

Suddenly, your heart stops and you stand up straight, taking a step back from the hospital bed.

"What?" You whisper, turning your head directly to the doctor.

"It's possible he is suffering from some memory loss. There was no brain bleed, but we can order some tests to see if we can get some more answers."

"Thank you Doctor Green." Anne replies.

The nurse checks the monitors and they both exit the room, leaving the three of you alone to process everything that just happened.

"Harry, you really don't remember YN?"

He stares at you and simply shakes his head.

"She is your girlfriend. You live together. You… you love her."

"That… no… what? No… That's not right…" He states, running a hand through his hair, and clearing his throat. The telltale sign that he is nervous. "I'm… I'm with Tabitha…"

Now your heart sinks, and your stomach turns to knots, as Harry claims to be with the woman he was once with. The woman who came before you. The woman who he told you had hurt him tremendously.

"Is she here?" He asks, and you turn around as tears return to the corners of your eyes. "I... would like to see her."

"Sweetheart-"

"No, Anne." You grab her hand and give it a small squeeze. "It's okay."

"Y/N…"

"He's probably overwhelmed, and needs some time. It's okay." You state, hoping your shaky voice seemed steady enough to convince her of some sincerity in your words.

She nods, and you turn back to Harry, displaying the most minimal smile you can manage.

"I'll see about getting you some food."

"Thank you… umm… YN?" He replies. "But please no chicken noodle soup… I hate it."

Your head drops and you let out a deep sigh.

"I know."

You open and exit through the door, taking a couple of steps until you are out of their view. Your hands cover your face and your back slides down against the wall, tears streaming down in a sob as your heart begins to break.

•••

The test results did not bring any comfort. There was nothing visible to indicate any concerning physical trauma, which is actually common.

The neurological exams determined that Harry has good motor function, reflexes, and coordination. But, it was confirmed that Harry was suffering from retrograde amnesia, and it's unknown how long it will take for him to get his memories back, if he ever does.

This is Harry. The love of your life. The man who dragged you outside into a storm because you told him you'd never been kissed in the rain. The man who learned to make your coffee order just so that you could stay just a few extra minutes at home with him before heading to work. The man who sat on the bathroom floor with you, all night, holding you while you cried.

He means everything to you. Everything.

So... how can what they're saying be true?

How can it be true that you mean nothing to him, because he doesn't remember you?

But he doesnt. He does not remember you. He does not remember your relationship, the entire two years and a half years that you've been together. He does not remember your first date, your coffee order, or your love for each other.

As if that wasn't heartbreaking enough, the person he does remember being with, the one he does remember loving, is the one who actually broke his own heart.

Tabitha.

Nothing, literally nothing, can prepare you for this. What are you even supposed to do now?

•••

As you stare out the window, you feel those strong, warm, tattooed arms wrap around you from behind, and Harry's lips on your cheek.

"So…"

"I love it! Absolutely love it!"

"I knew you would! This is ours, Cupcake. Our new home together."

You twirl around to face him, being met with a wide, dimpled grin. You wrap your arms around his neck as your lips hover in front of his.

"I can't wait to get our furniture in here and really make it feel like us. It's what I do best!"

A mischievous smirk displays across his face. "Well, the bed is set up, I can make you feel something right now… I'd like to think that's what I do best."

It has been decided, moderately protested by Harry, that you will take him back to your place. Hopefully the familiar surroundings can help him regain some memories, or at least bring him some comfort.

"I'm sorry the elevator was a bit loud. They keep telling us they'll fix it soon, but you know how that goes…" Your eyes widen with your statement. "Or… umm… I'm sorry."

"S'alright." He states, looking down at his feet as you slide the key into your front door. "I do know how those things go."

"Right. Of course." You shake your head as the door opens, and you toss your keys on the entry table.

Your eyes stay fixated on him as he looks around the place, his gaze stopping every once in a while on different items, but quickly returning to scan his surroundings.

"Do… you remember anything here?" You ask timidly.

"Not really." He lets out a deep sigh. "It, umm, it feels like it could be mine, though."

You stay quiet, continuing to let him embrace the living space.

"Where… umm… where is the bathroom?" He asks. "I'd like to take a shower, if that is okay?"

You clear your throat, hoping to keep yourself steady. "Oh, yeah, it's, uh, right through here."

You make your way to the bathroom, and open the bedroom door.

"Your clothes are in here." You state, opening his drawers.

"Thanks." He replies, grabbing a pair of shorts and his favorite shirt. He's had it forever. Longer than he's known you. Long enough to still remember it.

"I can order some food, if you want." You suddenly state.

He shrugs. "Sure. What's your favorite?"

Tasty Palace. But there's no way you're suggesting that. Maybe not ever again.

"There's Chico's." You reply, staring at your hands as you pick your nails. Harry stays quiet, and when your eyes move back over to see his confused expression, you realize your mistake. "Oh. Umm… it's a Mexican restaurant down the street. You… you like it."

"Okay." He shrugs. "Would… you mind just ordering what you… know… I'll like?"

"Of course." You smile, leaving the room and closing the door behind you.

•••

After sitting in silence, eating as much as you can manage with your new lack of appetite, Harry finally speaks.

"This is awkward to ask…" he swirls his fork around on his plate. "But, are we… going to sleep… in the same bed tonight?"

If you didn't know that the current situation was the cause of the pain, you would've been sure you were having a heart attack. Your chest tightens and your breath escapes you.

It's not even something you had thought about until this moment.

"That's up to you." You look up at him, hoping your expression gives him some ease.

"It's just… because… umm, I feel-"

"Harry, it's okay. This is…" you sigh. "Weird. For you."

"This isn't weird for you?" He asks, and you actually see his subtle, genuine smile push through for a moment. The one he does when he thinks he's done something cheeky.

You can't help but almost cough out a laugh. "Oh, it's definitely weird. But probably not as bad since I'm the one that…"

"Remembers." He nods.

"I can't imagine how you feel. And if sleeping separately is more comfortable for you, then that's what we will do."

"Umm, m'sorry, I think it might." His gaze flickers up to you before shooting back down to his plate.

"Okay." You reply. "Are you wanting to go to bed now?"

He nods.

"Okay. Let me clear the plates and I'll just grab my stuff out of the bedroom."

"What?" His eyes finally meet yours for more than a few seconds, and for a moment, you get lost in them. Those beautiful, bright green eyes that you've stared at a million times.

"Oh, so I can sleep on the futon in the office."

He shakes his head. "Absolutely not. I'll sleep there."

"Harry, you've been laying in a hospital bed for the past few days. You can sleep in the bed. It's fine."

"I can't do that to you. M'sorry. This is your-"

You both fall silent, your gazes immediately dropping to the floor. Your breathing quickens slightly and you look up to him before tears trickle down your cheeks. Your chest is tight, but you don't want to push this and make things more uncomfortable for him than it already is.

"Okay. Thank you. But let me know if you change your mind." You state, doing the best to send him a smile.

"Alright." He quietly replies.

You grab his pillow, a clean sheet, along with one of his most used blankets, and help him make it comfortable.

Once it's done, you both stand there, staring at the bed, not really knowing what to do next.

"Well, uh, yeah, goodnight." You mutter, maneuvering your way towards your bedroom, and stopping in the doorway.

"Goodnight, YN."

"I love you." Your eyes widen immediately and you wince at your words.

"Oh… umm… yeah… I…"

"It's okay, Harry. I'm sorry. Have a good night." You blurt out, rushing to the bedroom and closing the door.

You immediately flop onto your bed, simply shimmying off your pants, and curling under the covers. The bed feels larger, and colder. It doesn't feel right. But of course, none of this feels right.

Suddenly, the sobbing starts, and you bury your head in your pillow, hoping and praying and wishing -doing anything and everything you can- to have your Harry back in the morning.

•••

As your body begins to shift, your mind begins to wake up, and you can smell the scent of breakfast wafting through the house.

You open your eyes and instinctively reach over to the other side of the bed, before sighing and getting up to throw on some comfortable clothes.

You walk out and see Harry fumbling his way through the kitchen, opening and closing some cabinets before moving on to the next.

"Good morning." You state softly.

"Oh fuck!" He shouts, jumping and spinning around to see your face. "M'sorry, umm yeah, good morning."

He pulls his lips inward, telling you he is embarrassed by his reaction.

"Sorry I scared you." You chuckle.

"S'alright." He replies, a tiny blush appearing in his cheeks. "M'trying to find the mugs…"

"Oh!" You move into the kitchen, standing next to him, feeling his warmth, and point to the cabinet above you. "You were almost there."

"Fucks sake." He mumbles as he shakes his head, opening it up and looking at his options. He points to a white one, with a smirk growing on his face. "Whose is this?"

Your eyes follow his finger to the mug with big, bold letters printed on it, spelling out the words 'Fuck it'. You can't help but giggle.

"Yours."

His smirk grows a bit deeper to show off your favorite dimple. "Yeah, that tracks."

He pulls it down and fills it up. "I still… umm… drink black coffee, yeah?"

You nod. You bring down a plain mug, filling it up and adding some vanilla caramel creamer from the fridge.

"So… I, umm… took a while to find everything, but I made some pancakes if you want some... I hope that's okay?"

"Of course it is. They're your favorite." You clear your throat. "Thank you."

He plates a few for the both of you and moves to sit at the kitchen table, followed closely by you.

"You have an appointment this morning." You state, causing him to look up from his plate.

"Already?" He asks, his brow furrowing in the way it always does when he is slightly confused.

"I guess that's normal with brain injuries." You quietly reply. Just saying those words makes you feel queasy.

"M'kay." He shrugs.

"But your mom wants to have us over later, if you want to do that."

"Yes!" Harry exclaims, excitement in his tone for the first time since last week.

"Alright. Good." You nod, taking one last bite of pancakes before standing to clear your plate.

You move around your chair, your plate in hand, and lean down over Harry's head, placing a kiss on top.

He clears his throat and his eyes flicker up to you for only a moment before you straighten up.

"Shit." You mumble. "I'm so sorry. It's just a habit. Well… for me… not for you, I guess… not anymore… I need to shut up."

Your free hand covers your face and you stumble into your chair as you try to make your way into the kitchen.

As you place your plate in the sink, trying to compose yourself, you hear Harry's chair squeak across the floor and feel his warm presence close by.

"Umm…" Harry utters. "M'sorry this is weird for you too, YN."

Your eyes shoot up to his. His gorgeous green eyes, that once looked at you with vibrancy, but now just stare back at you with uncertainty.

"It's…" you inhale a deep breath, turning your gaze back down to the sink. "It's not about me. It's about you. Getting you… back to you…"

He chuckles, placing his plate on top of yours in the sink, and beginning to walk toward the office. "Whatever that means."

Exactly. What does that even mean? Because, who is he now? What if he never gets back to being… your Harry?

•••

"So, Harry, how are you feeling this morning?" Dr. Green asks.

"M'fine." Harry reluctantly replies.

"How are you really feeling?" She asks again.

He sighs, looking down at his hands and fidgeting with his rings. "Sore."

"What's sore?"

"Everything."

She nods, typing his answers into her computer, then looking over to you.

"And what about motor function, balance, things like that? Have you noticed any changes Miss YLN?"

You sit up straighter, not realizing you'd be asked any questions. "Uh… everything has seemed fine."

"Good. Good." She types again. "And now, let's discuss memory. Any improvement?"

Your head drops down too and you hear Harry sigh.

"I… umm… it's… it's just…" He stutters.

You quickly look over to him, watching his fidgeting increase, and turn your gaze to Dr. Green.

You lean over, placing your hand on Harry's forearm like you always did when he was anxious.

"I'll wait in the lobby." You state. He lifts his head and looks over to you, only responding with a nod.

You get up, your chest tight at the thought of Harry, your Harry, feeling more comfortable without you by his side.

You exit the room and find the closest chair, starting to feel faint again, like you did that first night in the hospital.

"Are you alright, Miss?"

You look up to see a nurse glancing over from the front desk of the office.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Just…" You breathe in to try and gain some control of your lungs. "It's just a lot."

"These things are." She nods. "But he's lucky to have you here with him."

"Mhmm." You mumble.

"It's so important and helpful to have the people who love him, and who he loves, around to support him."

You scrunch your face, staring at the ground, as your heart starts to sink.

The people who love him. Yes. But the people who he loves? That might not be you anymore.

The door opens and you stand up to join Harry as he shakes the doctor's hand.

"As long as nothing gets worse, we will see you in a week, Mr. Styles." She looks at you and you nod in confirmation. "Remember to relax and let your brain heal itself. Don't pressure yourself. But do those few, small tasks to exercise it too. It could help regain those memories for you."

"Thank you Dr. Green." Harry replies.

You shake her hand and lead Harry back to the car.

As you settle into the driver's seat, you look over to see a solemn expression on his face.

"Would you like to go back home… back to the apartment… first? Or straight to your mom's?"

He perks up at the last suggestion. "My mum's! Umm… yes, my mum's please."

"Sounds good."

"You… umm… know the way. Yeah?" He mutters.

"Yep." You state casually. "I do."

•••

"Should I bring something? I feel like I should bring something."

"You're biting your thumbnail again."

"I'm nervous!" You exclaim.

"You're really cute when you're nervous." Harry smirks.

"I'm meeting your mum. I want her to like me!"

Harry stands up from the couch, walking over and pressing his body right up against yours, the sweet scent of his favorite Tom Ford cologne instantly calming you.

"She's gonna love ya." He states, kissing your forehead as you grab onto his arms. "How could she not? I do!"

The drive to Anne's house is usually quick, but feels painfully long today, with your thudding heartbeat being the only noise you can hear on the car ride over.

You let out a small sigh of relief as you pull up into the driveway, but feel a little disappointed when you hear Harry do the same.

Anne immediately opens the door once you knock, and wraps Harry into a big hug.

"Bloody hell, Mum. I'd like to breathe, if that's alright." Harry whines.

"I get to hug you as tight as I bloody well please, thank you very much." She replies, releasing him and pushing him into the house.

"Alright, fair enough. M'gonna grab something to eat." He walks right through the doorway and straight into the kitchen.

"At least he still remembers where things are in this house." You sigh.

"So nothing's changed?" She whispers, shutting the door behind you, as you both stand in the entryway.

You shake your head and cross both arms around your body.

"I don't know what to do Anne."

She wraps you into a big hug, one palm rubbing up and down your back for comfort.

"It'll be alright, darling. I just know it will." She pulls away, grabbing both sides of your face and lifting it to meet her intense gaze. "It'll be alright. I love my son, but I also love you, and I'm here for you too. Yes?"

"Okay." You whisper, choking back to lump in your throat.

"Let's go sit." She suggests, guiding you into the living room. As you walk in, you see Harry sprawled across the sofa, humming a tune and peeling a banana. He looks comfortable right there. But even better, or maybe worse, he also looks happy right there.

"Your sister will be by in a bit." Anne states, causing Harry to look up with a distinctly mischievous smirk. More noticeable than the one last night. It shows off one dimple, his left one, every time. It's a dead giveaway that he's about to throw out some major sass.

"I remember her being a pain in the ass." He chuckles. "I remember that correctly, yeah?"

"Harry…"

"M'just checking, Mum. Just tryna remember the important thing-" His eyes shoot over to yours and your stomach drops. You do your best to give him a small smile, and even a shrug, hoping he will believe that you don't mind.

Because who wouldn't mind the love of their life not even remembering that they love you, right?

The doorbell rings and you are snapped out of your thoughts, thankfully, as you see Gemma walking through the door.

"YN! Lady! I've missed you!" She exclaims, walking over and giving you a tight hug. "I'd ask how you've been but…"

She pulls away, holding both of your shoulders in her grasp, and stares into your eyes.

"Yeah." You shrug.

"M'fine by the way!" Harry shouts, grabbing his head and groaning from raising his voice. You reach in your bag and hand some medication to Gemma, as she makes her way over to him.

"Okay, lil brother, this'll be a rare sappy moment from me…" She hands him the pill and squats down next to his spot on the sofa. "But, I'm so glad you're okay. How are you feeling?"

"Yeah. Umm. M'fine, I guess. Everything hurts." He mumbles as he swallows the medication. His eyes flicker over to you before looking back to her. "And m'confused as fuck."

You grab a glass from the cupboard and pour some water, taking a gulp to swallow the lump in your throat.

Gemma's gaze then flickers over to you, and you see her smile. "Well, I know YN has always been good at taking care of you when you're sick so you're in good hands."

"M'not sick, Gem. I'm injured." He replies, with the stern furrow of his brow, that you know means he's fully serious.

"I know. Still applies." Gemma shrugs, kissing his forehead and standing back up.

"Harry, sweetheart, I pulled out a photo album." Anne states, pulling a large book off of the kitchen counter. "I thought you could take a look. Maybe it'll help to jog your memory."

"Can I please just relax first?" He sighs, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. "Feels good to finally relax."

"But-"

You place your hand on Anne's. "He's right. He should relax."

She returns your gaze with the most compassionate expression that eyes can give someone, and reluctantly nods.

"Maybe later then." She replies, placing the photo album back on the counter.

"Mhmm." He hums, placing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

Anne motions for you and Gemma to follow her to the backyard, and you walk out to the patio.

You sit down in a large, cushioned patio chair, and bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them for comfort.

"So, what did the doctor say?" Anne asks.

"Not much when I was in the room." You shrug. "Just that he needs to relax, not to pressure himself too much."

"Anything about his memory loss?" Gemma asks, and you shake your head.

"I guess she gave him some things he can do to help but…" You sigh. "I don't know."

"YN. It'll be alright." Anne states.

"I know he'll be fine." You reply, feeling your voice start to shake and some tears start to form. "But… I'm… I'm like a stranger to him now."

Anne shakes her head. "He'll remember."

"He loves you!" Gemma adds.

As you rest your chin on your knees, the tears begin to fall.

"Does he? Because I'm worried he won't remember that he does. And…" Your breath begins to quicken. "I'm worried he won't again."

They both move to sit on either side of you, on the arms of the chair, and run their hands up and down your back.

"It's been one day." Anne whispers. "I know it's hard. Give it a bit of time. He loves and adores you. He'll remember. It'll be alright."

You don't respond. You just bury your face in your knees and begin to let the tears flow freely. Anne kisses your head and both ladies stand up.

"We'll be inside." She whispers, and you hear the back door shut.

You know she's right. It's only day one and you're thinking the worst? You can't give up that quickly. And you have got to be strong for him.

You let out the last few tears that are sitting at the corners of your eyes, take in a deep breath, and shake out your hands.

You make your way back inside and to the living room to find Anne, Harry, and Gemma sitting on the sofa, flipping through the photo album Anne had pulled out earlier.

"These are your students at a recital last year." Anne states, directing Harry's attention to a photo in the middle of the page. In it, he had a huge grin of his face as he kneeled between three kids, their instruments in hand.

"So I still work at Edison Arts Academy?" He asks, looking up at his mom with a smile, seeing her nod. "Good."

"And this is you, Sarah, and Mitch at a gig downtown." Gemma points to another photo. "You remember them right?"

"F'course!" He exclaims. "But… we actually played gigs? That used to just be a dream I had."

"You were… are… really good." You chime in.

"I'd hope so. Otherwise I'd be glad to not remember embarrassing m'self."

He looks over the rest of the page and flips it over, landing on one filled with photos of just the two of you. Things he remembers absolutely nothing about.

"I… we… went to Jamaica?" He questions, his finger placed on top of a specific photo, which you took as he sat in front of a jerk chicken stand.

"Yes. You, YN, and a few of your friends." Anne responds.

"Never… I never thought I'd do that…"

"You volunteered for a summer program over there, to help teach kids to read music." You state.

"Oh… okay… that makes sense." He quickly looks to his side to meet your gaze. "So, do you teach as well?"

"Oh. No. You had asked me to go with you all. So we could have a little vacation together too." You clear your throat and sit up straighter.

"Oh." He looks back down at the photos. "That sounds nice."

You smile to yourself, remembering the late nights with everyone on the beach and the fit of giggles you burst into when trying to get up on the surfboards. Remembering the walks around the town with a delicious Jamaican coffee in one hand, and Harry gripping onto the other. Remembering the glow he constantly had on his face after those morning classes, beaming with pride over a student who had learned to play a new song.

"It really was."

He flips through some more pages, stopping to look at some photos of Christmas spent with his whole family, a couple of his cousin's new baby, and one particular photo that you didn't even know existed until this moment.

Anne holds the page down before Harry can move on, pulling out the photo and holding it in both of her hands.

"This is one of my favorites of you two."

You lean in closer, as does Harry, and see yourself sitting next to him on a piano bench. Your head is resting on his shoulder as his fingers press down on the keys.

"When was this?" You ask, looking back up at Anne.

"It was last spring, when I was really sick." She replies. "You both took the day off to take care of me. And when I came out from an afternoon nap, seeing this, I…"

She pauses and wipes some tears from her cheeks, holding the photo against her chest before bringing it back down to her lap.

"S'alright, Mum." Harry says, gently, rubbing his hand over hers. "What were you saying?"

She looks over to him with a smile, and then to you, turning her body slightly more towards yours. "It was the moment I knew that you truly loved Harry. And that we were important to you too."

Your eyes fill with tears again as you wrap each other in a hug.

"It's going to be alright." She whispers, pulling away and nodding when she meets your eyes.

Your attention is suddenly taken by Harry, watching as he pinches the bridge of his nose and groans.

"Fuck. This is a lot…" He mumbles. "I think I need to take a break."

"I'm sorry." You scoot away on the couch.

"No… you don't… you don't need to be sorry." He states, quickly meeting your gaze. "It's just…"

"A lot." You sigh.

He nods.

"Umm… I was thinking… I'll take a nap."

"Yeah, that's good." You reply.

"Mum, does my old room still have a bed?"

"It's a guest room, so yes. There's extra blankets in the closet." Anne states.

"My favorite one?"

Anne looks over to you, and you begin to bite your thumbnail, before quickly composing yourself and looking back up to him.

"It's at our place. You brought it with you when we moved in."

"Oh… okay. S'fine." He mutters, giving his mom a kiss on her forehead and stopping next to you. "I'll… be in there then."

You give him a small smile and turn around to watch him walk down the hallway.

"Do you want to take a nap too darling? You can use my bed, I just put on fresh sheets." Anne asks. "You deserve a rest too."

"No. Thank you." You sigh. "I think I'm gonna use the restroom and then sit outside again."

She gives you a kiss on your temple and moves to put away the photo album, so you head to the bathroom.

As you get inside, you splash some water on your face and dry off with a towel. You place your hands on either side of the sink, staring down at the drain, and wonder what it would be like to just get washed away. Find yourself somewhere else, and not have to deal with all of this.

You shake your head to shake out those thoughts. You can't feel sorry for yourself. Harry is going through a much harder time than you, and feeling down isn't going to help anyone. You're here for him. He needs you, even if he doesn't know it. He needs you, right?

You open the bathroom door and begin to walk back down the hallway, when you hear some hushed chatter coming from the guest room. You can't help but to stop where you are, unsure if you should listen in, but unable to move in any other direction.

"It's just weird, Mum. It's so weird." Harry whispers. "I don't know her."

"You do, Harry. You know her, and you love her." Anne replies.

"Everything is just so strange. So different. So confusing." You hear him sigh. "Like, this guest room feels more familiar than that flat I apparently have now."

"Just give it time, sweetheart." She utters. "I promise, it's a great life you have now."

You hear him sigh again, and your chest feels tight. It hurts that things aren't back to normal, but it hurts more that it's causing him so much uneasiness.

You head to the kitchen, turning on the sink and grabbing the dish soap.

Anne walks in and stands right next to you. "You're doing this to distract yourself, aren't you?"

You look up at her and nod. She knows you. You love that she knows you. At least one of them does.

"Alright. I'll be watching some shows. You don't need to clean the whole house, so join me when you're done."

"I will."

"YN…" She squints in your direction, waiting until you meet her gaze. "Please. Come relax with me when you're done."

"Okay. I will."

•••

Footsteps down the hallway cause you to look up from your phone, and sit up on the sofa.

Harry appears, running his hand through his hair as he looks over to you.

"Hi." You utter. "Good nap?"

"Mhmm." He replies. "Definitely need it. Where's my mum?"

He looks around the room.

"Oh, uh, she got called into work. And Gemma had some plans or something."

"Alright…" He replies. "So, should… we just head out then?"

"If you want to."

He shrugs. "Nothing else to really do, s'pose."

"Right. Okay."

You both grab your things and head to the car.

As you pull out of the driveway and head down the main road, you turn on the radio. You figure it'll feel like a long trip back, so some music will help ease the uncomfortable silence.

"I love this song." Harry states, as the first chords of a Rolling Stones song begin to play.

"You sing it all the time." You reply. "You actually play it at some of your gigs."

"I do?" He rubs the back of his neck, a sign that he feels awkward. "Guess that makes sense."

He turns to look out the window, tapping his fingers on his thigh, and humming along to the song.

"Hey… umm… would you rather stay at your mom's house?" You sigh, readying yourself for the answer you assume is soon to follow.

There is silence. You're not sure if that's any better than a quick response.

"Harry?" You utter, looking over to him as he stares out the car window.

"Hmm?" His head turns to you. "Sorry."

"It's okay." You look back to the road. "I was just saying, uh, that if you'd rather stay with your mom then I understand."

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his head drop as he fidgets with his hands. He's nervous.

"I… umm… no." He utters, and your head shoots back over to him. "It's… it's only fair to you… for me to try to, like, remember…"

"I don't want to put any pressure on you." You reply, trying to hold back the sudden, but subtle, fluttering you feel inside.

"No. No. You're not." He gives you a small smile, then furrows his brow slightly as he looks back down. "I want to… remember… I want to make sense of things. Y'know?"

"Yeah." You nod, turning back to the road with a tiny smile yourself.

Maybe this will work out. Maybe it will actually be alright. Maybe you'll get your Harry back.

"Is there anything specific you wanna know? Or do?" You ask timidly.

"Umm…" He shrugs. "What do you do? Like… for a job?"

"I'm an interior decorator for businesses."

"What does that entail?"

"I help businesses create an interior atmosphere that works best for the space that they have." You pause, noticing out of the corner of your eye that his gaze is fixated on you. He's always been an attentive listener, and it's nice to see that hasn't changed. "But, in basic terms, I pick wall colors and help place furniture in offices and restaurants."

He chuckles, and god you've missed that sound.

"I once heard… that the color blue… helps to decrease your appetite… like mindless snacking."

You unintentionally let out a big laugh.

"Is… is that wrong?" He asks quietly.

You shake your head and take a few breaths to calm down your reaction.

"No." You giggle once more, then clear your throat and completely compose yourself. "No. It's right. You just… you said the exact same thing the first time I told you what I do."

"I see." He chuckles again. "So… where… where did we meet?"

You instinctually bite your lower lip, looking over at him to see his wide eyes and lips pulled in, the expression he uses when he is calmly waiting for an answer from you.

"At a coffee shop called Way Cup."

"Way Cup?" He smiles. "Oh I get it. Clever."

"We… can go there if you want?" You bite the inside of your cheek, nervous and uncertain of what his answer will be, and how it'll feel to take him there.

"Umm… sure! Sounds nice." He agrees, and a mild flittering reappears inside.

•••

"Oh shit! Oh my god! I am so sorry!"

"S'alright." Harry chuckles. "Minor wounds to my sweater."

You shake the coffee off your hands, throw the now empty cup away, and pick up the cupcake you had just dropped on the ground.

"Poor thing didn't serve it's purpose."

"M'sorry… what?" Harry asks, causing you to finally look up to see the most beautiful green eyes you've ever come across.

"I… uh…" You let out a breathy exhale of a laugh. "I was treating myself. The cupcake was my reward. Now that it's on the ground, it doesn't get to do the job it was made for."

And now you are witness to the deepest, dimpled smile you've ever laid eyes on.

"That's poetic." He replies.

"Also makes me feel less guilty for indulging in it."

He looks down at the hand of yours that's covered in frosting, and then down at his sweater.

"Well, I think I need to get some napkins inside. And I'd love to help another cupcake achieve it's baked good goals. Can I buy you another, and a coffee?"

You feel your cheeks flush.

"It was my fault. You don't need to do that."

"I'd like to. To be fair, I wasn't really paying attention either." He motions towards the cafe door and you nod, leading the way back inside.

You reach the counter and order a foamed vanilla latte with caramel and another cupcake.

"Wow. You really like your sugar."

"Hey, I told you I am treating myself." You smile. "Plus, isn't that how life should be?"

"How's that?" He asks, with a raised eyebrow and a smirk to match his curiosity.

"Sweet." You bite your lower lip. "Life should always be sweet."

You both sit in silence at your table by the front window.

"So we met in this coffee shop." He nods as he stares down at his mug.

"Technically outside."

"Right." He nods again. "And we came here a lot?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm." He continues his head movements. "I just… wasn't normally one to… go out for coffee…"

"Yeah." You shrug.

"How long ago?... Like… how long ago did we meet?"

You begin to bite your thumbnail as you pretend to do a quick calculation in your head. But you know the answer.

"About two and a half years ago."

"Two and a half years?" He exclaims. "I've lost two and a half years?"

"Well…"

"What?" He looks up to you and scrunches his face.

"It's more like, three years. If…" You feel a knot forming in your stomach. "If you remember being with your ex…"

"For fucks sake!"

He rests his elbows on the table and runs his hands over his face.

"M'sorry, Harry." You whisper, holding back the tears beginning to appear.

"I just… I don't…" He sighs, now resting his face in his hands. "How can I… not remember?"

"I need to know something." You state timidly.

"Alright…"

"What is the last thing that you do actually remember?" You immediately regret asking, your heart bracing itself for some hurt that is inevitably headed in your direction.

His eyes shoot up to yours.

"Are you sure?... Like, I don't…" He clears his throat. "I don't want to… make you uncomfortable…"

"I want to know." You shrug, looking down and biting your nail again. "Maybe we can figure out where to start."

"Well… I remember… getting ready for an event…" He furrows his brow, wrapping one arm across his body and bringing the other hand to pull on his lower lip. "A fancy event. I was in a suit."

You know. You know exactly what event it was.

"I think…" You sigh, feeling another large knot forming within. "I think I might have a way to help you out, with the memories."

"What's that?"

"I think there's someone who could maybe help clear things up…"

"Oh?" Harry perks up. "Who?"

Your eyes squeeze shut, and so does your heart, as you take in a deep breath. You can't believe you are about to say it.

"Tabitha."

~~~~~

Series Masterlist

If you'd like to send extra support, I love coffee 💗Bee xx

~~~~~

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