sitting pretty ∞ h.s

chapter seventeen

seventeen

I paused, my nose touching his as I processed the words. I knew that Harry loved me, but it didn't sound right when he said it aloud. The three words made me nauseous and questionable, when they were suppose to make me love struck and hopeful. I wanted to believe that he loved me, but the idea of it was not easing into my head correctly.

I pushed Harry off of me, standing up straight. He watched me regretfully, realizing what he shouldn't have said. I didn't want him to think that he wasn't able to have feelings for me, but I wanted him to know that just because he felt a certain way about me didn't mean that I felt the same.

"Fuck, I say the one thing I actually mean and you push me away." He sat on the edge of the bed as I quickly walked towards my wardrobe to retrieve my pajamas. I pulled up the pajama pants and slid my arms into the button up shirt. I hurried to unclasp my strapless bra before buttoning up the shirt. I sighed and turned around, he held his bottom lip between his fingers- his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.

He stood up from the bed at once and looked at me, "Good night." He said with a hint of dissatisfactory. I looked down apologetically, too ashamed to make eye contact with him. He grabbed his bag from the floor and walked out of the door, closing it without any intention of coming back into my room later. I strode towards my bed, deciding the leave my gift bag where it had been sitting. I sat on the bed, staring at the hard wood floor absently. I hadn't imagined my first 'I love you' going the way that it did- in fact, I hadn't even imagined it because never in my life did I think I would lose someone outside of my family. Or vice versa.

I knew that Harry had feelings and by now, they must've been hurt. He behaved relatively calm, besides the fact that he cursed out loud and practically admitted that anything he said before- he didn't mean. Which could mean a good thing, but also a bad thing because he'd be a bigger liar than he already was. But overthinking the situation didn't help at all, it only made me feel worse about turning him down.

I knew that I didn't need to force myself to have feelings for him, although I most certainly did. I dumbly was developing feelings for my captor and I couldn't stop myself. I hated the fact that I wasn't in control of what I felt and who I felt for. I repeatedly told myself that harry did not deserve my kindness whatsoever, yet I continued to disregard everything he's done.

Now, I found myself blaming Harry for having no control over his feelings, as did I. But I did not love Harry, I couldn't- not after what he's done. I didn't believe that I could ever fully forgive Harry for all the wrongs he's committed.

*

There was a low, but awakening knock on my door and I immediately sat up in my bed. I looked straight ahead, not fully processing how or why I'd just suddenly woke up until the knock came again.

"Come in." I strained, yawning. I ran my hands over my face, bothered to why anyone would knock on my door this early in the morning. I sighed, looking over at the digital clock as the door was slowly pushed open. The time read that is was currently twelve minutes after twelve, I concluded that the time was appropriate so I stopped the mental debate I'd been having with myself.

I looked over at the boy in the door way, "What's your name? You never told me." I sighed, he was the boy that had brung me changing clothes the first night I had to stay here.

He rolled his eyes, "Good morning to you too..." He smiled, "My name's Emile." He ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair. I nodded, mentally noting the name in my brain. He said something incoherent, but I didn't bother to ask what it was that he said.

"Harry'd like to see you this morning on the patio." Emile said to me, smiling brightly as he began to back away. He spun around on his heels to grab the door knob.