"Okay, so just to clarify Nessie—I'm coming up on the 17th next week and leaving on the 20th."

"Yes mum."

"And you're flying out to Los Angeles on the 21st, the day after, yes?"

"Yep," Wednesday sighed down the phone, having repeated this exact conversation 3 times over the course of the call.

"And you're going to send me all of your flight details and keep me updated on where you're staying, aren't you?"

"Mum, I'll be in Malibu, not a warzone."

"I know Nessie, but I just like to know where you are and that you're safe."

Wednesday didn't argue against it. She knew the reason why her mum had become so cautious these past few years. It was the same reason why she sometimes cried herself to sleep, or panic called her in the middle of the night, just to check that she was okay. Neither of them could go through any more loss.

"I know," Wednesday said softly.

Her mum sighed down the phone. "I can't believe I won't get to see you this year for your birthday. And you're not even on tour."

"I know," Wednesday said guiltily. "But at least we get to be together on your birthday and can celebrate it. We'll just be celebrating mine a bit prematurely, that's all."

Jane Green was a Pisces through and through. It was weird to know that despite there only being a few days between either of their birthdays (Jane's was the 19th, Wednesday's the 23rd), that they could differ in so many ways. Where Wednesday lacked in emotion and understanding, her mum more than made up for. Though she definitely got her creative streak from her, her temperament was from somewhere else entirely. Most likely her dad.

"I guess. At least you'll be with Harry though. I'm sure you'll both have fun."

Wednesday's stomach dropped at the thought of it.

"Yeah, I imagine so."

If by fun she meant getting tortured by her own heart and overthinking everything to an impossible degree, then sure, it was going to be extremely fun.

"Right, well I'll let you get off love. Enjoy the game, and make sure you shout loud enough for both you and dad!"

A sad smile came up onto her lips as she nodded. "I will do. Talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you too Ness."

She ended the call, looking at the time on the screen. 5:30 p.m. The game kicked off in two hours' time and Harry was coming to pick her up in half an hour.

She hadn't seen him since she'd gone round earlier in the week. They'd texted a handful of times and Wednesday had chosen not to mention the Daisy run in—it was hardly worth dragging up bad memories. Even if what she'd said had left Wednesday's head swimming all week since.

Thankfully, he'd been busy with rehearsals, having practically no spare time for anything else other than sleep and exercise. It had given her the chance to make a proper plan of action—one she would stick to this time.

After their trip to Malibu, she would say she needed to tell him something. And then, she would admit her feelings. Whatever came after that would be the consequences she'd be ready to accept. But first, she just needed to get through these next two weeks.

Despite the anxiety about being in his presence still circling around her, her nerves today were heightened for a much bigger reason. The game. She knew it was something poignant, going to her first game without her dad. It had taken her two long years, during which she'd not even considered it. But despite all of that; the sadness, the nerves, the wishing he could be there—she felt excited. Like it was a way in which she could still keep a connection to him alive. A way to honour his memory and deepen their everlasting bond.

After brushing out her damp hair, she opened her drawers and pulled out a pair of plain jeans. Then, she opened her wardrobe and fished around inside until she found what she was looking for—her trusty vintage Liverpool shirt. Smiling as she looked down at it, a bud of nostalgia grew in her soul. Once she'd got dressed, she quickly blow-dried her hair and put on some makeup, before sliding on a pair of trainers and throwing on her puffer coat.

Sometime shortly after, she heard a car honking outside. Rushing down the stairs, she made sure she had everything before stepping out of the front door and seeing his blacked-out tesla. Not allowing herself any time to overthink, she locked the door and walked round to the passenger side, sliding in easily.

He was smiling lightly at her, watching as she put on her seatbelt.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," she nodded, trying to seem as normal as she possibly could.

With that, he set off.

Just over half an hour later, he pulled into the private underground carpark of Stamford Bridge, the Chelsea football ground. It was an away game, but it didn't make it any less exciting. In fact, Wednesday had already seen an abundance of Liverpool fans making their way to the stadium as they'd drove past, loud, red and proud.

Once parked up, they both got out and as Harry walked ahead to talk to the security, showing their passes, she took the opportunity to look at him fully for the first time. He was wearing a long black coat, blue jeans, vans, a hoodie and a beanie on top of his head. She loved when he dressed up; when he was adorned in sequins and a rainbow of colours and fits and textures. But when he was dressed like this, casual and comfy, it somehow meant more to her. It felt more personal. The entire world got to see Harry Styles. When he was like this, she just got to see Harry.

Once their tickets were approved, the security man directed them to the lifts, telling them the way to go.

Wednesday's brows furrowed as they entered the lift, and he chose the higher stadium level.

"Where are we sitting? Are we not in the stands?"

He bit his lip, trying to hide a smirk. "Nope. We're going fancy today, all the way to our own private box."

Her lips parted in surprise. She didn't even want to think about the cost, knowing it was somewhere in the four-figure range for a single ticket like that.

"You didn't have to do that," she said, smiling appreciatively.

He shrugged, watching the levels rise. "It's one thing going to a rival football game. It's another sitting in the stands with all the fans shouting about how Liverpool are the best team in the premier."

"I mean, they are," Wednesday mumbled, noticing Harry roll his eyes.

"Because it's your birthday soon," he said, just as the lift pinged and the doors began to open. "I'll let your incorrect opinion slide."

They stepped out onto the carpeted hallway, already abuzz with other people who clearly had the money to splash out for private viewing areas. Harry looked down to the tickets as they walked, checking which room they were in. As an attendant stopped them to check over the tickets once again, Wednesday smiled upon hearing the crowd in the stadium already, piling into the stands. She could feel the familiar buzz in her now, the pre-match excitement building.

"It's the first door on your left at the end of the hallway," the attendant advised.

They both thanked him, making their way down to where he said. Harry swiped the key card he had, unlocking the door and pushing it open. Walking in, Wednesday looked around impressively. The interior matched that of the hallway, a blue and white colour scheme to match the Chelsea colours. A sofa lined one wall with a TV opposite—a small bar was located near the door, next to a table and chairs. At the end of the room was a platter, full of colourful fruit and plated cold food.

Through the doors, she could see the entire stadium from a higher view. She walked forwards, sliding them open and letting the cold air hit her. The box led out to their own platform height, above the regular stands and circled around the entire stadium for the other box holders to also use. Music blasted from the speakers as noise grew from the people underneath. Breathing in, something about it all felt like home to her.

"Are you excited?" Harry asked, coming up behind her.

"Yeah, I am." She turned to him. "I didn't realise how much I'd missed coming to games until now."

He grinned, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as she looked out at the view. "I'm excited too. Haven't been to a game in ages."

"I hope you're not wanting Liverpool to lose?" Wednesday asked with a suspicious tone, looking at him.

"Let's put it this way," he said, turning to her with cheeky glint in his eye. "If Chelsea loses, I'll be happy. And if Liverpool lose, I'll also be happy."

She rolled her eyes at his answer. Typical Man United fan.

They went back into the box, getting comfy as they waited for the game to begin. Harry ordered them a pint each to be brought up, as well as a bowl of chips to share.

He sat back, stretching his arm across the sofa as Wednesday stood at the door, watching the fans stream into the stands through the glass. She could see the abundance of red shirts, hats and scarves. It gave her a warm feeling inside and she was sure that if she hadn't felt so excited to be there, tears would be forming in her eyes at the gravity of it all to her.

Once their pints and food had been delivered, they sat out on the viewing area. It was freezing up there, the height making the wind whistle around their heads. Wednesday's face was turning red fast—not from nerves this time, but from the chill in the air. As she held the ice-cold beer in one hand and popped chips into her mouth with the other, she began to involuntarily shake next to him.

She watched the players warming up on the field against the sound of her own teeth chattering. Sniffing away her now runny nose, she felt stupid for forgetting how cold it got in the stadiums during this time of the year.

Before she knew what was happening, something was placed on top of her head, shielding her ears from the cold. She looked around quickly, confused as her hands went up to touch what felt like fabric. As she peered over at Harry, she noticed him shaking out his own hair, realising that the beanie he'd been wearing was now gone.

He'd put it on her.

Chewing her food, her face must have held some kind of slow confusion. Because as he looked back down to her, he shrugged and spoke. "I felt you shivering. Thought you needed it more than me."

Goosebumps erupted on her hidden arms and she wasn't sure if it was the intense cold or the melting of her own heart. He really was making it so much more difficult for her to not lean over and kiss him. Her eyes flicked down to his lips momentarily, thinking about what it would feel like. And then when she noticed him looking back at her, she cleared her throat and forced a small smile.

"Thank you."

They sat in relative silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable. The stadium was so abuzz with atmosphere, that the need for conversation was non-existent. Occasionally he'd point something out, someone dressed funny in the stands or the songs playing over the speakers. Wednesday listened quietly with a small smile throughout it.

By the time the players were ready to head onto the pitch, she'd already finished off two more pints—Harry was driving back, sticking to water for the rest of the night. She didn't know what it was, maybe the excitement or the fact it was free, but it went down smoother than usual.

Her limbs loosened and so did her anxiety, a welcome consequence of the beer. They cheered in unison as the players walked on, getting ready for the start of the game. Wednesday could already feel her throat getting hoarse from the shouting and it hadn't even started.

And then, as the whistle went, the ball got kicked and the game began. Wednesday watched the game with a careful eye, biting her lip in anticipation. She didn't need to wait long for the first goal. 4 minutes in, their striker booted the ball into the top right of the net and the crowd went wild.

She jumped up and down with the widest smile she could muster on her face, cheering. Looking over at Harry, who was smiling with his eyebrows raised at her reaction, she excitedly punched her arms into the air in front of her.

The game continued in an equally tense and exhilarating manner. By half time, the score was 2-1 to Liverpool and she took the break to order another drink. She wasn't drunk but was getting comfortably tipsy.

Any of the remaining tension she'd felt previously around Harry had melted away at this point and for a time, she forgot all about her deeper feelings for him, simply enjoying his company as she always had.

A few minutes into the second half, Chelsea scored an equalizer. She sat and watched with a beady eye, her legs bouncing as she played with her fingers, pulling at the skin. Because she hadn't been to a game in so long, she'd forgotten how emotionally involved she got, especially the closer it got to ending.

"They need to attack more, push past the defence," she mumbled to Harry beside her, not taking her eyes away from the game.

She heard his light laugh. "Maybe you should be playing. Might teach them a thing or two."

Looking over to him, she grinned before pursing her lips. "I probably could. After all, I am the two times after school league women's football champion."

It was his turn to roll his eyes now, unable to stop the corner of his lips from turning up.

The clock got closer to full time. With only 4 minutes left, the semblance of hope she'd had for a win was diminishing.

And just as she was ready to admit defeat, deflated in their equal score, their striker powered forward past the defenders and took one last shot. Wednesday watched in slow motion as it hit the back of the net, her cheers following that of the entire stadium. They were back in front.

Out of instinct, she grabbed Harry's hand, excitedly rocking it back and forth. She couldn't even focus on his touch, too excited by it all. Grinning over at him, she did a little dance on the spot that elicited a deep laugh from within him. The sound was like crack to her.

When there was only a minute left, and Wednesday's hand hadn't left Harry's, the fans in the audience broke out into a familiar song. One that sparked something within her soul and left her feeling breathless. She closed her eyes, letting the words speak to her soul. Gently, she opened her mouth and began to sing along. Swaying lightly, she felt his fingers grip her slightly, squeezing for comfort.

The whistle sounded out, signifying the end of the game, just as the crowd finished singing. Wednesday opened her slightly wet eyes, blinking the emotion back as she looked over at Harry with a triumphant smile.

"We won."

Letting half of his mouth curve upwards as his he looked down at her softly, he nodded. "Yeah. We did."

They stayed for a little longer, soaking in the high of the win. When the fans started to disperse from the stands, they grabbed their things and headed back down to the carpark.

"That was amazing," Wednesday beamed, jumping into the passenger seat as Harry unlocked the car.

"Yeah, it was a good match." He slid into the driver's seat, both of them buckling their seat belts. "I'm happy you had fun."

"I did," she said, settling back into the headrest with a sense of contentment running through her at the entire night's events.

As he pulled out, he turned on the radio, music playing from the speakers quietly. They exited the carpark, driving back onto the now dark London roads. Everything was quiet. After the high of the game came the peaceful low of the journey back. There was no rush to talk, no awkward feeling of silence. Just a shared contentment between them.

Wednesday watched the passing lights with a feeling she rarely felt. Calm. It wasn't often that she was settled like this, no overthinking or worries. Even sat next to Harry. The drive soothed her, watching the sparse streets pass by.

After 30 minutes, she recognised her neighbourhood. And a minute after that, he turned onto her street, driving slowly.

There were no parking spots on the road, nowhere for him to stop. He stopped in the middle of the road right outside of her house, putting on the break but keeping the gas going. Wednesday rolled her head on the rest towards him, smiling thankfully as he turned slightly towards her.

"Thank you for tonight. I...I was a bit nervous about it, if I'm being honest."

She said it without thinking about it, feeling the truth coming out of her a bit easier than last time. Maybe Sade was right. It does get easier to keep opening up—it's just the first step that is scary.

Harry looked over at her gently. "I thought you might be. I knew it would remind you of your dad." He licked his lips, hesitantly. "But I thought it might make you feel closer to him too. More connected, in a way."

How could one person be so caring? She didn't understand it. How deeply he thought about her, about everyone else around him was so rare. People like him only came around once in a blue moon.

She smiled back at him, biting her bottom lip. Her fingers reached up to the beanie still on top of her head, ready to pull it off. Strands of hair fell onto her face as the hat moved slightly with her action.

"You should probably have this back," she said, but his hand stopped her, pulling her wrist away gently.

"Keep it. It looks better on you anyway."

With the same hand, he moved it slowly towards her face. Wednesday watched him as he did so, in awe of the way his tongue was caught between his lips in concentration. Slowly, he moved the strands of hair from her face, pushing them out of the way. The slight bit of skin contact made her cheeks burn up instantly.

She felt her heart rate increase, knowing that his hand remained hovering, slightly brushing her cheek. Her eyes flickered between his, trying to gain an understanding of what he was doing, what he was thinking. His gaze, so focused before on her eyes, flicked down to her lips and for a second, she felt faint. He was looking at them with something she couldn't understand.

She saw his neck move as he swallowed. And then, she wondered if she was imaging things when he began to lean towards her. Slowly enough to make her think he wasn't moving at all. His entire body was angled towards her, and her to him and somehow, they were getting closer.

It was like her body took over as she leaned too, seeing his face getting closer, his expression searching hers for any type of objection. They were mere inches away, his fingers still lingering on her cheek.

She could hear his deep breaths, almost feel the heat from his face.

A sudden loid noise filled the air, interrupting the moment as their bodies automatically jerked back with shock. Turning their heads in unison towards the source, a car was stopped directly behind them, waiting to carry on down the road that Harry's car was blocking.

With jagged, disturbed breaths, Wednesday turned back to Harry, the realisation of what had just happened dawning on her. And what followed was inevitable. Panic.