Damaged » h. styles au

Chapter 46 - Kirsten

                                                                  46.  

                                                           ●•Kirsten•●

"Why are you smiling?” Tyler asked, making me abruptly turn around and gulp. Oh sh–t, he was still there? I could swear he’d just left.

“I was talking to Angel,” I lied, hoping he hadn’t listened to my conversation with Styles. Why was I even smiling? He was so f–cking stupid, to be honest. And yet, through the phone, he made me blush a couple of times. What’s wrong with me? This is ridiculously stupid. “Why did you come back, by the way?” I then changed the subject, starting to feel uncontrollably guilty.

“I forgot my bag. You kinda distract me, K.” I smiled at him, shrugging as if I couldn’t help it. “Anyways, I’ll try to come back before you go to bed, but I can’t promise anything, okay?”

“Actually, I might sleep at Lana’s. Angel just called me and she wants to see me, so I’m gonna stop by, and you know, I’ll try not to stay much but it usually doesn’t work.”

Tyler smiled at me, nodding before stepping closer to peck my lips.

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Surely will.”

After that, he turned around and left, definitely this time. I was left completely alone to feel guilty and curse myself for lying at my own boyfriend because, for some reason, I was going to go out with another boy. I’ve never been one of those who support cheating and stuff, and I certainly didn’t believe I was going to be one of those people, ever, but I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t going to leave Tyler at all, and I certainly didn’t plan doing anything with Styles, but just lying to Ty felt the worst thing in the world.

I’m a sh–tty human being.

The horn outside was deafening and I wanted to punch that bastard for hurrying me up. Not that I wasn’t ready or anything – because I’m quite fast to dress up – but I needed to finish doing some stuff, which wasn’t going to take that long at all. God, couldn’t he wait?

“I’m going to kill you, Styles!” I yelled, automatically hearing his overly – and unnecessarily – loud laugh.

Before he could honk again, I grabbed my jacket and turned off the lights of my laundry room, looking for my keys on the way out. Slower than what I needed to – I was just teasing him –, I locked the door, trying to adjust my eyes to the shortage of light outside. Just then I allowed myself to turn around and spot him under the light pole right in front of my house, on his black jeans, t-shirt and jacket – too dark, maybe? –, and his white converse. He had no beanie on, and his curls were kind of messy, to be honest.

I had to blink a couple of times, not because he looked hot in black or anything – which I must admit, is f–cking true – but because he was holding… Flowers? No. He couldn’t be serious. For God’s sake, couldn’t he just guess I don’t like flowers? I thought that was obvious.

I walked past him, ignoring the fact that he followed me with his gaze until I walked around the car and reached the passenger seat, muttering on my way a bitter “You’ll need to get rid of it.”

He laughed again, opening his own door and throwing the flowers on my lap once he got in.

“C’mon, at least pretend you liked it,” he said, looking at me with that usual grin plastered to his lips. “I was thinking of maybe bringing balloons, or heart-shaped chocolate, but I kind of thought you wouldn’t appreciate that. Flowers were the simplest I could do. Besides, they smell good.”