Illicit [Harry Styles]

Chapter 36

I couldn't believe how calm Liam was about all of this. He'd mentioned he was heartbroken, but here he is telling me to be careful with Harry and that he would still be around if I wanted to talk to him — that we could still be friends. I didn't know whether his reaction was a blessing or a curse, but anything was better than the way I'd imagine Harry to react if the roles were reversed.

I couldn't stop myself from throwing my arms around his torso and hugging him tightly. I didn't regret any of the time I'd spent with him before I met Harry, and I would hope we could always be on good terms. He held me close and stroked my hair soothingly as I let the tears fall freely against his tshirt, which he didn't seem to mind.

"I'll always love you, Liam," I sobbed against his chest.

"I know. And I'll always love you," he cooed.

After a few minutes we both let each other go, and Liam left. He left my house to go home and I stayed standing there staring at the door after him. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted, but at the same time I felt like my heart was even heavier. I'd gotten one problem out of the way by finally telling Liam about what I'd done and ending things with him, but another arose in that Harry was on my hit list and I was feeling very broken inside.

What was I supposed to do now? I'd chosen Harry over Liam, but I wasn't about to go running into his open arms after the shít he'd pulled. I think we both needed to cool off a little before seeing each other.

I decided to go and feel sorry for myself in my room, climbing under the blankets with my laptop and watching episodes of shows online to distract myself from the hollow feeling in my chest. I just needed time — time to calm down, time to get over Liam, time to think about Harry and time to get myself feeling the way I felt before all this happened. How much time I wasn't sure.

———————

I didn't speak to anyone for four days after that afternoon.

I mean, I responded when spoken to — although very bluntly — but I didn't make conversation. For some reason no one really asked what was wrong so no one found out. I didn't tell anyone that I'd broken up with Liam and was on iffy terms with Harry again, not a single person. I avoided the common room at school at all costs, only going to my lessons and then spending any free time in the library so I didn't have to see Harry or Mckenzie. It worried me that no one noticed how shítty I was feeling, but I guess that's life.

I was nervous to tell my family that Liam and I were no longer together. For one, I knew they all loved him and they were very close to him and his parents, so it'd break their hearts. But also, if Harry and I did end up together they'd know I'd been seeing him whilst I was still with Liam, or they'd just think I moved on fast, and either understand would probably cause them to be disappointed in me.

I spent the weekend tucked away in my room, doing whatever I could find to do to keep myself busy. I watched TV, browsed through the depths of the internet, looked at old photos, tidied my room, painted my nails, cleaned the house, anything that would keep me occupied.

Monday morning rolled around quickly as usual, and I looked even more of a mess since I got up late and had fifteen minutes before I had to be out the door. Not an ounce of makeup was applied to my face to attempt to cover up the redness and brighten my pale complexion, and my hair was shoved up into a knotty ponytail.

I kept my head down as I walked through the front gates of the school after getting out of my mum's car, and I was nearly knocked flying as I smashed into someone walking in the opposite direction towards me. I looked up apologetically and mumbled about how sorry I was, before stopping dead upon realising who I'd stumbled into.