Note To Self (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter Five.

That journal practically haunted Harry all night. He sat down to do his homework and study after he got back home from the gym and as he reached into his backpack to grab his things, he felt the smooth leather of it brush against his hand. No matter how wrong he felt about the whole situation, he was still so insatiably curious. He couldn't shake the feeling, the more he tried to forget it was there the more he would remember. It distracted him. His eyes kept darting over toward where he knew it sat inside his bag, tempting him.

He nearly gave in at one point. The book wound up in his hands as he sat on the edge of his bed and contemplated if he really would go though with it. He did. He opened up the cover, just enough to expose an astonishingly very detailed drawing of a parrot and he slammed it shut again. He shook his head and tossed the book back into his bag and zipped it inside.

He took his own journal out after that and scribbled down just one thing.

Note to self: never steal anything ever again.

The following day, Harry was disappointed to see Aubry didn't attend his Anatomy class. He wanted to return the journal as soon as he possibly could because he couldn't handle the responsibility of keeping his own hands off of it. He didn't trust himself with it for another night, and that's why he was sure to walk quickly after getting off the bus to make sure he didn't miss her incase she took her walk.

As soon as he turned the corner onto the street, his eyes immediately met with hers. She was waiting. His heart rate picked up and he dropped her gaze as he walked toward her. Anxiousness set in as he drew closer and closer, he could feel her eyes on him and he felt as if she knew. He had every intention of returning the journal and apologizing for what he did, but he also was practically anticipating getting yelled at.

He knew what he'd done was wrong, and he hated being wrong. He hated having wrongdoings because they always ended in him getting punished and repeatedly told exactly how bad he was, and that always knocked his self esteem down by several points and he'd usually spend the rest of the day locked in his room thinking about how horrible he was. Harry had problems with accepting who he was to begin with, so whenever someone reminded him of anything that may have been wrong with him or something he did, it only resulted in him being even harder on himself than necessary.

When he was close to reaching her, he swallowed back his fears and shrugged his bag off his shoulders to pull out the book she'd been missing since the day before. As soon as her eyes landed on the item in his hands, she lunged forward and snatched it from him. "I fucking knew it!" she cursed, smacking him on the chest with the cover of the journal. It stung, but what hurt him more was the anger in her eyes. "I knew it was you, you piece of shit!" He began to panic when she shoved at his chest so he stumbled backward. He didn't know exactly what he'd expected, but it certainly wasn't insults and getting pushed around. "You're a lowlife thief, how dare you take my journal from me?"

Being called a thief definitely dug deep for him. He never wanted to be viewed that way, especially not by her. He surprised himself by lying to her, "I didn't steal it!" his hands clasped onto her wrists when she went to angrily shove him again. "It was an accident, I grabbed it thinking it was mine because they look so similar."

She ripped her wrists from his grasp and stepped back, distancing herself from the lanky boy in front of her. She eyed him warily, still angry and defensive. "You read it," she spoke.

He immediately shook his head no, "I didn't. It's too personal, I wouldn't do that." Truthfully, he knew he probably would've if he'd been forced to spend any more time with it in his possession. She didn't quite buy it. She saw how nervous he was. She saw the way his hands fidgeted as he spoke. He could see that she didn't believe him, so he asked, "If the roles were reversed and you had mine, would you read it?"

"Yes," she confirmed easily, which was not the answer he was hoping for.

He tilted his head to the side, "Why?"

She shrugged, "I'd be curious." He found that slightly humorous because that's exactly how he felt. "Did you get curious?"

He pursed his lips for a moment and decided to just be honest. "Yeah I did, but I still didn't read it because that would be rude."

She laughed. The sound made his heart swell because he thought he'd said something funny, until he realized he didn't. She wasn't laughing at anything he said, she was laughing at him. He was the joke. He was what was funny. That hurt his feelings and suddenly the sound of her laughter didn't make the butterflies dance in his tummy anymore, instead it made his heart ache. "What's so funny?" he asked with a frown, because he was honestly not quite sure exactly what about him was so hilarious to her.

"You just really live up to your goody-two-shoes reputation," she snickered.

That confused him. "Why is that funny?"

She simply shrugged and failed to answer. Instead, she raised the journal in the air and said, "I've got two days of writing to catch up on so I have to go."

She turned around and he watched as she began to leave, but even after her yelling at him, calling him names, and laughing at him, he still didn't want her to go. It had been the most they'd spoken since that night out on the balcony. He didn't want it to just come to an end, so he made the decision to try for more. "Wait!" he called after her, making her freeze and turn around just a few feet away. She waited for him to say something. "Is... Would it be okay if I tagged along again?"

She paused to think about it for a moment, her silence made him feel anxious. He noticed he was rather high-strung around her, maybe even more than he normally was.

"I promise I'll be quiet, just like last time," he attempted at persuading her. "I don't want to go home yet."

Her answer came with a minute nod of the head. His company wasn't all that bad, she assumed. Better than nothing.

When she turned back around to continue walking, he followed behind fighting a losing battle against the wide grin that wanted to show on his face. He felt elated. He took her confirmation as a sign of acceptance, as if she was willing to allow him to come with her for a second time then at least he knew she didn't hate him.

He trailed behind her all the way until they were at the clearing once again, and just like the last time she headed straight to the boulder to take a seat. Harry sat down in the grass where he had before, and he knew because the patch of grass he ripped up still showed. He took his journal out of his backpack and opened it up. Aubry went straight to work and, just like the last time, Harry did not get much writing done.

Only a few words made their way onto his page.

"Note to self: She doesn't hate you."

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