Can You Understand? (1D fanfic)

Chapter 8

My eyes were filing with tears as I skittered down the hall of recording studios, looking for the elevator. I could hear the distant voices of the boys behind me. I honestly was heartbroken by them. THEY were the ones invited Dallas to England, so they should've known what to expect! I was impatiently waiting for the elevator, when the boys caught up; only Zayn and Harry though. I felt a tiny pang in my stomach because the elevator hadn't come up yet.

"Hayley, wait." said Harry, he placed his hand on my shoulder, and Zayn magically disappeared.

"What?!" I asked, refusing to look into his green eyes. Finally, I couldn't help it, so I did, and guilt washed over me. "Harry, what do you want?!" I yelped, on the verge of tears again.

"I-I-I'm sorry." he said, tentatively. "I was a bit protective over you, I mean, you know how much you mean to us."

I sighed.

"And especially to me." he said, with sly grin.

I didn't know how to react. Should I be mad? Upset? Forgiving? I didn't want to let him off easy, but I didn't want to stay mad at him. "Fine." I croaked. "But as long as we're on the subject, Dallas and I are a thing, so DON'T get in the way of it."

Harry's eyes suddenly turning dark. "What do you mean?" he asked in a monotone.

"Harry, please don't tell me you thought WE would ever be a couple! We're four years apart! How would the boys react?! How would management act? How would the REST OF THE WORLD act?!"

Harry's expression soon turned cold. It was then that I knew that I pushed it too far. "Didn't think that whatsoever." he murmured.

"Are we good again?" Asked Liam, popping up from no where along with Zayn. "We really need to get back to work."

"Yeah." said Harry, glumly. His face was turned to stone, and his hoodie was flipped on over his head.

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It was a bit awkward, having to go home with Harry after the recording studio time was up. Our fight had us both in hot water with management that afternoon, and I intended to play it neutral. Harry however, flipped out when we got home.

When I say 'flipped out', I mean flipped out in a Harry way, that is, sitting down on the couch with the tv on until midnight, watching re-runs of Fresh Prince he somehow had access to.

I didn't care for his moody attitude, so I made plans to meet with Dallas at his gig the next day. He was playing in an arena. Harry and I ate dinner in silence, and soon fell asleep without ever saying another word to each other.