You've Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes)

Chapter 5

Sarah is lighting the fireplace, chatting away, while Mitch sets the table for dinner. Harry, delegated to the couch, pats their enormous tabby cat.

"Is it just me or is she bigger than normal cat size?" He asks, admiring the way the cat arches her back when he touches her. She's heavy, too, kneading his thighs with her claws.

Mitch snickers to himself, continuing the placement of cutlery. Harry tries, every time he visits, to help prepare whatever they're eating, but Sarah and Mitch are intense hosts. They're actually offended by the idea that they need help. Harry stopped trying after a month of them living together.

Sarah laughs, her back facing him as she answers, "We feed her too much. We're terrible parents."

"Ah," Harry says as if that explains everything.

"Who can say no to that face?" Sarah turns around, the fire small behind her, but growing steadily. The living room fills with a soft glow, amber tinting everything.

Harry gives the cat a gentle chin rub, her eyes closing with content. She lets out a guttural purr when Harry scratches her behind the ear.

"I see what you mean." He says, nodding sagely. "She's very charming."

"Someone's smitten," Mitch comments, the drawl of his American accent always a little jarring in Harry's London life.

"If Ziggy goes missing, we'll know who the culprit is." Sarah smiles between Mitch and Harry.

"I can see the headlines now," Harry says, starry-eyed. "International superstar Harry Styles: Cat Burglar!"

"Speaking of headlines..." Sarah interjects, voice raising in question. She very rarely humours his at best, mediocre puns. Instead, she gives him a pointed look.

"We're just going to ignore how good that pun was?" Harry asks, pouting. The couple gives him matching pointed glares, and Harry is reminded yet again, how good they are for each other.

"Nice Segway, Sare." Mitch snorts, and Sarah gives him a playful jab.

Harry laughs, joining them at the table. Mitch leaves the room, probably to get their dinner, but the timing is typical. Even amongst his closest friend and girlfriend, he is a man of few words.

"So," Sarah sighs, leaning across the table from Harry. "How're things?"

"Just come out and say it, SJ," he sighs, tired but ready to talk about it.

"Louis Tomlinson and you."

"Correct."

"But you split up, obviously," Sarah confirms, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. The information she's learnt from becoming close with Harry over the years, versus what she's learnt in the news.

"Obviously." Harry nods.

"And now... everyone thinks..."

"Pretty much." Harry finishes for her.

"Mental." She concludes softly, almost in awe. "You know, I didn't even know what Larry Stylinson was," she lets out a gentle laugh. "And you know Mitch, hadn't even heard of One Direction before we started working together." Harry laughs now, thinking back to their awkward first meeting. "We had to google it," she cringes, covering her face. "Some ... interesting things came up."

"Oh, God," Harry winces. "I should have warned you."

Sarah shakes her head, the laughter subsiding. It's a few quiet seconds before she asks, tentatively, "Why didn't you tell us?" Her voice is so gentle against the backdrop of the flickering fireplace that if it weren't such a serious conversation, and maybe if he had a bit more to drink, Harry could be lulled into sleep.