Amnesia Harry part 2 (Patreon)

Hello! This was requested a lot along with the second part to the sex shop but since I posted something particularly smutty last night, I wrote this one as a bit of a pallet cleanser! I hope you guys like it because it's sure breaking me hort 

part 1  

________________________________________________________________

ii. 

It was no secret that Harry was wealthy. When they’d been in school it was shown through designer shoes, pricey tops, and pants pressed and fitted to the point where it looked like they stitched them together with him in mind.  Now it was shown in the way too expensive, sleek black mercedes that Y/N sees parked in the driveway of what may be a million dollar home -- one that was tucked away behind a thick iron gate and required code entry. A code that Harry very much didn’t remember, but the security guard arming the gate recognized him and allowed them through, despite the state of Y/N’s old yellow Bug that shouldn’t even be allowed on the road probably. 

Harry had spent two nights at the hospital while they ran tests and got in contact with his family and for some reason Y/N stayed through all of it. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her that had her rooted at his side; peering up to her with glassy eyes when she tried to explain to him that they weren’t together -- it felt quite unethical to let him continue believing that they were -- but did a piss poor job of it, saying something along the lines of, “I’m not who you think I am.” But he had dismissed that quickly, shaking his head firmly. 

“I know they say I’ve got amnesia, Love, but I very well know who you are,” he had declared, “You’re Y/N, you’re my girlfriend, you’re soft and sweet, and you like the song Lovefool unironically and unapologetically and I find that really cute. S’why I kiss your temple so often.” 

It was true -- Y/N did have a thing for that song, and she very clearly remembers dancing to it with him in his car when he’d tossed the AUX in her direction that first date they went on. The one where she had been so enamored by him and both confused but elated that he wanted a date with her of all people, and had spent a solid night with him having what she had thought was genuine fun on both sides but she soon learned that it had only been that for her. 

However, her temple wasn’t the one he’d been kissing. 

When they’d contacted his family, she learns that his mum and dad can’t make it all the way out here in such short notice -- they both had companies to tend to themselves -- but they did give Y/N the phone after one of the nurses let them know he had a friend with him. Y/N explained to them her current situation (though she does nix the part where he’s suddenly very in love with her), that she was only a “friend” from school (they only vaguely remembered her name coming up) that he’d bumped into, and she didn’t know anything about him or way he stayed. They told her that he had a girlfriend that they would call, give her all the information and have her contact her so that they could get this sorted out. 

So two hours and two jello cups later (one of which Harry had tried to beckon her to feed him and she reluctantly did so), Y/N gets a call from a girl called Sheri and Sheri was adamant on hearing from him, until Y/N had reiterated to her that Harry very much had amnesia. He was to be discharged in an hour because they needed the bed and Y/N needed her to come get him but she tells her that she’s at work but she can give Y/N the address to Harry’s flat and would meet them there at 6PM tonight. When Y/N turned to see the clock had barely ticked over 1PM, she’d felt herself deflate. She hadn’t particularly imagined spending part of her two week vacation catering to an arsehole who’d made her cry back when she had more important things to worry about, yet here she was, helping him into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that the hospital had available for him since his clothes were less than clean. 

Throughout all of this, her prick of an ex was still blowing up her phone, trying to get into contact with her, wondering if she were home or not and if he could come by for them to talk things through. Y/N had messaged him once after the first day and it was a simple Fuck off. I’ll send your things by post. 

How was she supposed to explain to his girlfriend that Harry thinks Y/N is his girlfriend? And how is she meant to spend four hours keeping up this facade while he walks around his flat, probably confused as to why there are no pictures of them together anywhere. Once he looks through his phone he’ll see her names not in the contacts and she’s nowhere in his photo gallery or on his social media. She might as well be a stranger to him right now but he was just peacefully oblivious, smiling at her every time she looked over to him and holding onto her hand that rested on the gearshift. If she were a worse person, she would rob him blind. 

When they get to the door, Y/N helps him unlock it, opening up to a very pristine looking woman. She has her hair done up in a ponytail so tight Y/N wonders if she can even see straight, in a soft pink suit and heels that extend her already mile long legs even higher. She walks to him, heels clicking against the ground as she walks to him, arms stretched and pulling him into her hold, “My Love,” she hums, “You had me so worried!” 

“Um, yeah,” Harry looks at Y/N over his shoulder, eyes swimming with confusion, looking quite distraught as one arm wraps around her body but in a more good mannered way rather than an affectionate one, “I don’t want to be rude but I can’t seem to remember you. Took a nasty fall and bumped me head.” His girlfriend pauses, like she hadn’t realized that he had amnesia though Y/N had reiterated to her what the nurses had explained; retrograde amnesia, part of his memory is spotty, part of it isn’t, but she did leave out the bit where he was almost certain they were dating, which she had to explain probably. 

“Love, I’m Sheri. . .we’ve been together for a year?” 

“But I’m with Y/N?” His face contorted, and he peels from her body. 

So then Y/N has to describe the entirety of their dilemma -- how she found them, what he’s been thinking, how she’s tried to tell him that they weren’t but he wasn’t buying it. Sheri looks irritated and sad and shocked all at once but she does listen and doesn’t fault Y/N for anything (as if there was anything to fault her, though she felt pretty shitty about it still). Even nods along when Y/N’s explaining what medicine he has to take when, and if he starts getting more cloudy about where he was and who he was, then to take him back to the emergency room and call his doctor. Y/N even leaves her number in case Sheri needs her to remind her of anything.

With this, Y/N hugs Harry, bidding her goodbye and telling him she’d keep in touch even though she most likely wasn’t going to. She felt weird though; leaving him after being with him all this time made her feel like she was in this weird limbo. And the guilt that begins to suffocate her when she’s driving away, remembering the worried look in his eyes because far as Harry was concerned, she -- his “girlfriend” -- had just left him with a stranger, even though pre-fall Harry would have seen it in the complete opposite way. 

Things are weird as she tries to settle for the night. She tries to shower away the ickiness she felt from leaving him with scalding hot water that soothes the aches in her muscles, and puts on her comfiest clothes to lounge in before making an effort to remove all traces of Charlie from her flat. There was an old moving box she had broken down that she’d slipped between her washing machine and the wall, so she retrieves it, rebuilds it into its 3D form and gets to work. Y/N doesn’t shed a tear as she digs through the clothes, feeling more or less empty as she looks at their pictures, his sweaters and shirts that he’d left there, the cute little notes he used to write for her, and the mug he’d bought her on their first date. She folds them up nicely, places them all strategically so they fit comfortably in the one box, and seals it up tight. 

It’s when she pours herself a celebratory bowl of “you wiped that bastard out of your life!” fruity pebbles when her phone rings, an unknown number popping up on the screen. Her brows furrowed, swiping left to answer and holding it up to her ear, “Hello?” 

“I left him at his flat,” Sheri’s voice rings through the receiver, “His parents will be in town within the next two days and I already let everyone at the company know what was going on but I can’t. . .he doesn’t remember me. We’ve been sitting in silence the past few hours, he won’t let me hold him, or kiss him or anything and just -- he keeps asking for you.” 

“The doctors said it would take a few days before anything might start to come back,” she tells her, for the third time, “Just give him time, he’ll start piecing things together.” 

She breathes out, “Listen, I just can’t, okay? He seems to remember most everything except me and I  -- I just can’t,” she sounds frustrated and upset, and Y/N can tell that she’s talking while she’s driving, the sound just a little bit off like she might be shouting into a car’s microphone, “He’s at his place, I told him you were on your way.” 

So that’s how Y/N ended up back at his house, knocking on the door to be greeted with a relieved looking Harry, who very much had tears pooling in his eyes as he pulls her to his chest in a tight hug. “I don’t understand,” he breathes into her neck, shaking his head, “She kept telling me that she was my girlfriend and showed me pictures and everything but I -- I only want you.” His voice trembles, and she can feel the wetness of tears stain her skin as she let her arms loop around him, holding her to him, “How could that be true, if the love I have for you feels so real?” 

And Y/N didn’t have an answer to that. 

Instead, she pulls him from where he’d tucked his face against her and took a look into those glossy, red rimmed eyes, a careful hand cradling his face and she strokes his cheek with her thumb, wondering how the hell she ended up in this position in the first place. 

“Have you eaten?” She asks him and he shakes his head, “Okay, how about we go inside, get you some dinner, and then we’ll get all this sorted out alright?” Harry nods, and she finds herself wanting to make him feel better, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

She’s awarded with a gentle smile beyond his teary gaze.