Matilda | Harry Styles

THIRTY-ONE

Harry was the best thing that had ever been mine. I needed it to stay that way.

I wasn't sure I'd ever make the internal confrontations that I needed to. They ran far, far too deep, extending even beyond this relationship. They were crippling, and I knew he could sense them. He couldn't have known what they were, but I knew that he knew me. I could sense in him, just like he could in me, the tiniest shift in demeanour. It wasn't stark, or remotely blatant - that wasn't who Harry was, not with me. In fact, he'd barely shifted at all prior to disappearing into the bathroom; but I knew him. He wasn't rash, or possessing an explosive temper, but I knew he was perceptive. He was attentive.

I shouldn't have ever told him that my mother had reached out. That was my first mistake. If I hadn't said such a thing, we could've stayed how we were, unbothered by outside interferences or past traumas. But I'd opened it up, and now I had to scramble to close it. I knew from the moment the words had left my mouth, that she'd called, that I'd screwed things up. He didn't want somebody broken - how could he? How could he ever want me with everything that came alongside me?

I'd tried to undermine it by dismissing the situation, but I knew, deep down, he hadn't bought my insistence that she'd never reached out, in the end. I knew he'd noticed when I'd said too much about my sister that one night in the hotel bar, and then again, the other day, when I'd been unable to stop myself from so obviously shutting down when he'd asked about my sister, and then my parents. I knew that he knew there was so much more to everything, and I could only continue to pray that somehow, he'd set it aside, and let it go.

I knew it didn't make sense. With everything in me, I believed that I wasn't worthy, nor was I capable. I saw this ending in burning flames, with my heart even more shattered than it was, to begin with - but I couldn't stop it. I ached, and yearned that he'd set it all aside, and that somehow, I could too, solely so that we could keep being the way we were. I didn't want to lose it, just as much as I feared its continuation. I didn't want to lose him, I didn't want to lose us.

He was all I could ever want. And though I believed that he couldn't ever want me as I truly was; broken, and unfixable - I realised, that if he were to be those very things, I'd still want him just the same.

I'd gone into overkill with psychologically torturing myself by the time Harry finally resurfaced from the bathroom. I noticed, immediately, that the tension in his shoulders appeared to have lessened, and his eyes weren't quite so glazed over - he didn't seem to be so lost, somewhere else.

I remembered that morning, what he'd told me; that he'd always look after me - I just had to let him. I drew my lip back into my mouth, fearing that I'd blown my chance to take up his offer, just as I would repeatedly go on to do.

He was dressed to go out on stage, now, clad in a tight-fitting t-shirt and a pair of flared trousers. It was tame, compared to his usual attire, but he still look incredible, as he always did. I remained with my legs crossed on the couch, beginning to debate if I could remain clad in his hoodie for the show. It felt like his arms were around me, even when they weren't. Even when, now, I feared he'd have decided he didn't want to put them around me.

My eyes were on him, just waiting. Was this where he finally exploded in anger? Was this where he told me I was just as worthless and pathetic as I already believed? Had his focused writing given him the epiphany that I, indeed, wasn't good enough for him? That I was treating him badly, and not being forthcoming? I knew that wasn't Harry, but I knew what others had historically thought of me. I feared he could ever think the same.

He sat down on the couch for a mere second, beside me, before he began to shuffle his position. He lay his head on my lap, wrapping his hand around my knee as he found a comfortable position, and I heard him blow out a breath. I felt a pang in my chest.