Butterfly [A Harry Styles Fanfiction] *COMPLETED WITH SEQUEl* {Book 1}

Chapter 37: Hopelessness

Harry's POV:

Days had passed with unanswered phone calls and ignored text messages. Every attempt I made at contact, Cami denied and Charli came between all of my plans otherwise. I felt terrible, with no knowledge on how to make it better. Cami wasn't speaking to me and Charli followed suit once she'd heard the things I'd said.

I knew once I had gone home that night that I'd f.ucked up, and badly. I was completely insensitive and just plain rude to have said the things I did. My only explanation was that I was panicked and worried when I'd gotten a call in the middle of the night from Colt. Seeing Cami so belligerent only furthered my worry of what was happening to the girl I'd fallen in love with. It hurt that she had wanted to be so far gone to escape her problems rather than lean on me with them. I wanted her to be able to talk to me- that was what having a boyfriend was for. I should have known better. Cami was the type to ignore her feelings, bottle them all up and explode at the smallest trigger.

I knew her calm wouldn't last and I knew she'd blow up when it ended. I just never assumed it would be on me.

I had suspicions that something else had led her to get so drunk the night of the funeral. Sure, it must have been tough for her, but she seemed completely numb to it all up until the end of it. I wondered if her father had said something that set her off, or if she finally realized her mother's death was real as she left her for the last time. Either way, something changed and it led her to drink. Obviously that wasn't a healthy way to deal with pain, but I wasn't in the position to be advising her about it. Hell- I wasn't even sure if I had any position in her life anymore. I didn't wanna push, but I couldn't stay away for much longer. It was physically draining me not to know how she was.

Was she angry or sad?

Was she drinking all the time?

Had she cried for hours like I knew she eventually would?

I didn't know, and it was making me go insane.

On the other hand, although I wanted to be there for her, I didn't know how to make her feel better. How do you help someone get over a loss like that? Despite the fact that Cami didn't know her mum, it was still her mum. Nothing could ever change the fact that she could never see the women who had given birth to her. In one way it was better that she never knew her, that way she wouldn't feel her absence. Yet in another, this was beyond wrong. If someone loses a person they've known for years, yes they feel the loss within their lives, but they also have millions of memories to hold on to. What did Cami have? It wasn't like she could reminisce about all the good times they've had over the years- because there weren't any. That factor alone is what Cami would have to come to terms with. She would never know her mum, never speak to her, or see her ever again. How could you tell someone they would be okay after realizing something like that? What hope was there to look forward to when so many things got stripped away in one single life?

Maybe Charli was right with the whole five step thing. Cami seemed to be flowing through the stages like clockwork. I wondered which she had drifted into now. If she was still angry, I knew things back at the apartment were rough. I could only imagine all of the things I would smash into pieces if I was in her position.

Even the idea of loosing my Mum made my chest ache. Sure, she could be intrusive and judgmental, but I loved her more than words could describe. There wasn't a single thing someone could say to me to make losing her any easier. What was I supposed to say to Cami? It was bad enough that I was already in the dog house, but I had nothing to offer that would take away even a small ounce of pain. At first I thought just being there for her might have done that, but it seemed like my smothering was not appreciated. I never wanted her to feel alone, so I never let her be, which may have contributed to the fact that she snapped. The fact that I laid a hand in causing this only made me feel even more guilty for everything I'd said that night.