Dear Harry (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Ch.7

Dear Harry,

Now that I have been thinking about how I first started liking you, I can't stop. Until now, I had forgotten the gap between us being best friends and us dating.

You'd always had girls flocking to you, while I on the other hand, was more of a late bloomer. 

Girls always loved you, and you knew it. You had the whole package, from the outrageous head of curls, to the perfectly slanted smile, to the adorable dimple indented in your left cheek. You were aware of it all, and you knew just how to work it. It was almost as if you had everything down to a science.

From the start, you were popular with the ladies. I can't remember a time when I hadn't seen a girl staring or caught girls whispering about your unnaturally good looks. You had more than a few girlfriends, but none of them lasted more than a few weeks.  

One night, in eighth grade, we were laying in my backyard, watching the stars. The long wisps of grass tickled my bare arms as my eyes strained to look at you next to me. It was quiet, our steady breathing the only thing that filled the comfortable silence.

I remember looking up at a star-the biggest, brightest, one I could find- and making a wish. 

"Please make him feel the same way about me," I silently begged in my naive, thirteen year old mind.

No more than two seconds later, I heard you shift over, turning your body towards me.

"Hey El? Can I ask you something?"

I titled my head, meeting your green eyes, glowing even in the night sky. 

Suddenly, my heart quickened its beat, my blood started rushing, and my breathing became ragged. I honestly thought that my wish was coming true, right then and there. I thought you were going to finally confess how much you liked me, how much you have been wanting to tell me. I started mentally preparing myself, speculating over how I should react.

"Yeah, Harry, anything," I finally managed to peep out.

I eyed you as you took a deep breath. The moments ticked by, milliseconds feeling like hours. My body was completely frozen as I waited for you to speak.

"Do you think I should ask out Jessica? She is really hot," you said to me, your eyes leaving my face and landing on a star, millions of miles away.

I felt my heart deflate in my chest as my throat tightened, tears threatening to spill down my face. 

It was always like this, and every time it hurt more and more. I was just your best friend, nothing more. I began to realize that you liked girls with prettier faces and bigger chests. I would constantly have to nod my head, confirming that each and every girl you named was pretty. I felt so selfish, but at the same time, I wanted you to be happy. I was stuck between wanting you to have the girl of your liking, but only if that girl was me.