Strings Attached (Harry Styles FanFiction)

27. Silver Lining

A/N: Harry and Cassie edit in the sidebar!

“Stop!” I squealed, jumping away as he tried to shove a handful of snow down the back of my down coat.

“What? You’re afraid of a little snow?” he laughed, tauntingly waving the mound of white power around in the air in front of me.

“Of course I am! I’m from Texas! This,” I gestured around at the winter wonderland that had appeared over night, “doesn’t happen! The closest we have ever come to snow is a giant snow cone machine spitting icy slush all over the playground when I was six!”

“Come on, it’s harmless!” he smiled, letting it slip through his fingers.

“No, it’s cold and wet!” I protested, standing a few feet away, arms wrapped tightly around my chest, uncomfortably rocking back and forth in my rain-boots, doing my best to ward off the chill I could feel steadily creeping into my body.

“So you’re trying to tell me that never once did you dream of making a snow man as a child?”

“Well yeah... but I was happy making one out of styrofoam balls in art class.”

“Of course you were,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “Come here.”

“No, you’ll shove snow down my back.”

“I promise I wont.”

“Pinky promise?” I hummed, dubiously watching the mischievous boy. Adrien grinned at me before stepping forward and linking his pinky with mine, raising his thumb to his lips.

“Seal it with a kiss.”

Cassie’s POV:

I woke with a start, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Dreams about the bad times I could handle, I was used to them. It was the good memories that carried the true pain. I hated remembering how perfect everything used to be. My subconscious was throwing everything back in my face. It was tearing me apart, ripping into me bit by bit. Slowly, I sucked in one shaking breath, struggling to fill my lungs with the necessary air.

I couldn’t breathe, there was an unbearable weight crushing my lungs. It didn’t matter how much I shifted and squirmed, the weight remained constant.

“Christ,” I whimpered, pushing at the mass, trying in vain to displace it. Hysterical tears began to stream down my cheeks; I was trapped. I jolted suddenly at the sound of a very loud snore ripping directly into my right ear. What the hell?

“H-Harry, get off,” I whimpered, shoving uselessly at the bulk constricting my chest, “Harry please, wake up!” The boy beside me might as well have been dead. It didn’t matter how much I pushed or kicked at him under the duvet, his grip didn’t slack. 

After what felt like an eternity of squirming, pulling, and shoving, I managed to free my right arm and I lashed out, smacking the sleepy boy as hard as I could. He let out an unintelligible slur of moans and assorted grunts but his hold on me loosed and I managed to slip out of the bed. As soon as I moved he flipped onto his back and the snores recommenced.

“Clingy bastard,” I grumbled, sitting up on the edge of the bed, rubbing my temples. My head was killing me and I had to squint to look around the unfamiliar room. Everything was way too bright. The sun needed to chill out. We all understood that it was morning, there was no need for it to go and put of a friggin firework display.

Doing my best to avoid the brightest areas, I searched the room for some sort of clock. What happened to that fancy digital clock/iPod dock thing that Harry always kept beside the bed? Were we in the guest room? Did he even have a guest room?