This chapter was so cute and fun to write awh babies I so ship them.
GIF of Harry Styles on the side being a little shit
Ignoring Logan wasn’t that hard. Ignoring Harry, now, that was a challenge. I so badly wanted to call him and talk to him; I yearned for the sound of his voice. But I feared that if I talked to him, I’d blurt out what happened with Logan. And I don’t want to dump all of that on Harry while he’s on tour. They’re in the middle of a North American tour and also recording their third album - I don’t need to add my drama on top of that.
But then again, Harry does have a right to know. I mean, he’s my husband, after all. He should know that his wife’s best friend confessed his love for her, right? I internally groaned; this was so difficult and weird. I’d never expect myself to be in this situation. If Harry weren’t in this and if I never married him, there was a possibility that I might have felt the same way for Logan – just maybe.
Though, that’s not the case right now. Right now, I’m the wife of Harry Styles and my best friend of about eighteen years told me he loves me when I’m starting to possibly grow feelings for my husband. Seriously, what nineteen year old has to go through this? It’s like a love triangle.
A strange, annoying, messed up love triangle.
I felt bad for snapping at Harry yesterday over Skype. He was just making sure if everything was alright, and I just snapped like a bitch. I hate being mean to nice people, and Harry is one of the most sweetest guys I have ever met. He was hurt, I saw it in his expression, and I just had to end the call, making up some lame excuse of me being tired. I probably worried him even more.
I’ve been back for a week and a half now, and I’ve been feeling as lonely as ever. To get my mind off things, I took a long, hot bath and stayed there for a while, before draining the tub and getting out. I quickly changed into some shorts and a flimsy white tank top before drying my hair. Though as I looked around, my vision was a bit blurry.
I cursed, realizing I didn’t have my contacts on. Walking towards the dressing table, I grabbed my black glasses and wore them, before looking around for my contacts case. I suddenly remembered that they were in my bag, which was down stairs, so I went to search there.
Entering the living room, I looked around for my bag for quite a while. “Missing something?” a voice asked.
I jumped a foot in the air, before swiveling around. My eyes widened from behind my glasses as they landed on Harry. There he stood, in a black shirt, jeans, his brown boots, and a black trench coat. His duffel bag was dropped on the ground next to him as he stared at me with raised eyebrows.
“Harry.” My voice came out as a whisper, which surprised me. “What are you doing here?”
“We have some time off,” he says, taking a couple of steps towards me. I watch him watch me, his intense gaze burning the skin on my face. “Have I ever told you how much I adore girls in glasses?”
A breathy chuckle escapes my lips as I tilt my head up to look at him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” I confess as he shrugs off his coat.
“A simple ‘I missed you’ would’ve sufficed,” he says, a smirk forming on his naturally pink lips.
I bite down the corner of my bottom lip, a smile forming on my face. “I missed you,” I say, hands resting on the back of his neck.