Similar Differences (Harry Styles Fanfiction) (CURRENTLY EDITING)

Chapter 38

Bethany's POV

I woke up in an unfamiliar room about two hours later. Everything rushed back to me not long after I opened my eyes.

Harry...His uh... meltdown, or however else it could be worded...The silent car ride home...

I pulled off the gray covers and sat up suddenly, wondering where Harry was, and also where I was. It was funny to me that before I even worried about myself, I questioned where Harry was.

I looked around the quaint area, studying it. There was a huge bookshelf filled with seemingly old books. Among them were tons of classics like Wuthering Heights, Emma, and The Great Gatsby.
'Those couldn't be Harry's...' I thought.

I also noticed a small nightstand with a picture frame turned downward, and a desk with a huge pile of tattered notebooks all over it. There were literally probably 20 of them scattered across the desk. A few of them were laying open, and to respect the privacy of whoever they belong too, I didn't read them, but I observed that the pages were absolutely filled with black, smudged ink.

I had to stop inspecting the room when the light was flicked on by someone, and I turned to see that Harry had walked in. It was already bright because of the sun shining through the small window, and the extra light hurt my tired eyes. I squinted as they adjusted.

"Sleep well?" Harry asked monotonously, turning toward his book shelf to run his finger over the spine of the apparently very used copy of The Great Gatsby. I already knew it'd be hard to determine his mood today, not that that was different from any other time.

"Is this your room?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you leave me on the couch?"

He shrugged and sat down at the foot of the bed. "This bed's the most comfortable."

Aw, he actually could be sweet sometimes.

"Did you carry me in here?" I asked suddenly. I hated to be carried in any way at all. Even if I were dying of dehydration and someone offered to carry me to water, I'd rather crawl. I didn't like the idea of someone feeling how heavy I was.

"Uh, yeah." he said, sounding confused.

I turned my head and uncomfortably said, "Oh."

After some awkward silence, Harry cleared his throat. "Would you like something to eat?"

I really wasn't up for eating because I felt really drained and still a bit off from the stress of this morning. "No, I'm not hungry. Thanks."

He nodded and once again it was awkward.

"How are you? Did you get any sleep?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

"I'm fine, and nope."

"You probably should, you look exhausted." His face was pale and his eyes had dark bags underneath them.

"I'm fine." he insisted, but I knew he wasn't. After a day like he's had, how could he be?

I remembered the time he drunkenly told me he slept well when I was with him, and it gave me an idea. "Come here." I attempted to get him to sit next to me. I figured he wouldn't, but it was worth a shot. Even though I knew it'd never be reciprocated, I did care about Harry's well being.

He gave me an odd look.

"I know, 'there will never be anything'. " I said using finger quotes. "But you're having a rough day, just stop fighting me and come here."