Hidden Secrets (Harry Styles)

Chapter 19

Thank god I’m going out tonight. I don’t even care that it’s on my own. I just need to meet some new people. And forget about Claire. There was no use in missing her, she obviously wasn’t coming back. I wish I could just erase her from my mind, so I would stop dwelling on all the memories we had and could’ve made.

I decided to just roam around central London, maybe go into some shops, a book store would be nice. Wherever the night took me, that is where I’m going. I’m already looking more than presentable and I think I’m going to leave now. I’m wearing thick black eyeliner and my lips were coated in my favourite red lip stain. I awkwardly pull my black skirt down, and double check that there are no rips in my black sheer tights. I stare down at my cut up Arctic Monkeys band tank top that comes to just above the waist of my skirt, knowing that it probably won’t keep me that warm. I lace up my black combat boots, perfect for walking. Starring at my outfit one more time, I flip my long hair and strut out the door, because Emma Evans doesn’t walk, she struts.

..

By the time I actually get to the city I’m exhausted and I’m starting to believe this was a terrible idea. I’m never going to meet anyone this way. Should’ve just stayed home with my Netflix and a bottle of vodka like every other night I’ve spent in London. I automatically get self conscious of myself as I notice all the gorgeous girls with hot boys walking around me. Awesome start to my night.

I turn the corner, letting my feet take me wherever, when I see a familiar floppy head of hair. I soon recognize their soft face, and then the expensive clothes. I scan over them, from his hair to his fancy shoes, and my eyes widen: I stop dead in my tracks. I stare at him, my mouth dropping. It can’t possibly be him. This is impossible. I’m panicked and I want to run in the opposite direction as fast as I can and never look back, back to my apartment where he can’t find me. But then we lock eyes, and I know there is no escape.

..

Of course, out of all the people I could’ve possibly seen tonight, it had to be him.  He’s running towards me and I know I can’t run, but I’m going to try anyways. I turn back the way I came and take off like a bullet. I search for a busy shop that I can disappear into, but they’re all empty.

“Emma!” He begins to shout behind me, “Come back!” His voice is getting closer and I know he’s almost reached me, but I just keep running. I feel his long fingers reaching out to touch my arm and shivers immediately run up my spine.

“Harry! Didn’t see you there!” I lie trying to make it sound casual, but my voice sounds high pitched and forced even to my own ears.

“You’re kidding me, right?” He remarks. I smile plays across his soft lips, and he runs his fingers through his tangled hair.

“Sorry,” I murmur half heartedly as I slowly shake my head.

“Whatever, look I wanted to talk to-“ I put my hand in front of his face, cutting him off before he can spit out some bull shit answer for why he kissed me, because frankly I didn’t care about that right now. All I wanted to know is why he seemed to care so much about me.

“Harry, why are you doing this to me?” I state strongly.

“W-what? Doing what?” His emerald eyes are clouded with confusion and I can feel him getting closer to me, reaching out for me.

I bite my lower lip, throwing my hands up, “You could have a million different girls, why are you toying with my feelings?” I basically scream at him.

“Because I think you’re different.” He states, how cliché of him.

I laugh sarcastically taking a step backwards to create more space between us. “Don’t pull that bull shit on me.”

He studies me intently, “that’s exactly why,” he mumbles so quietly I barely hear him. I have to lean forwards to hear, asking him to repeat himself, “excuse me?”

“You want the honest answer?” I nod intently. He licks his lips, looking terrified in that moment, he stutters twice before getting his words out, “You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. I know we’ve only been together a couple times, but it’s true. You’re not constantly throwing yourself at me just because of my fame. I’m so sick, of girls playing me, focusing on my fame rather than my actual feelings. You don’t try to act like someone else when I’m around you. I know it’s hard to believe but I actually think you’re interesting, other than your somewhat bitchy attitude, but at least you’re real with me.”

“I’m going to forget you just called me a bitch, and just because I know you’re a douchebag doesn’t mean I’m different,” I haughtily state crossing my arms over my chest.

“Emma, please. Give me a chance, can we at least can we be friends?” He bats his long eyelashes at me, and I play with the hem of my skirt, wondering how to respond to his question. I’m a sarcastic shit so I do the best thing I can think of. I put on my best fake smile and start screeching like a 15 year old girl, “Oh my gosh Harry Styles, absolutely! I’ll do anything for you!” I jump up and down, pointing and laughing at him. His eyes widen, and he grabs me pulling me into his chest to muffle my screams, “Stop that or I won’t ever be your friend.” His arms are wrapped around me waist, I stare deep into his eyes. He doesn’t move to kiss me, but I watch as his pupils dilate in my present. Trying to end the moment, I throw my arms around his neck and we exchange an awkward sort of hug, and he finally releases me, giving me a puzzled look, “What are you even doing in town at night?”

I cringe at my response, “I was trying to meet new people.”

“Well, you met me.” He smiles shyly.

“How disappointing.  Remind me to never walk around town trying to meet new people ever again.” I say with a very serious face. Harry laughs, and I notice a dimple on one side of his face. “I’m really tired though, will you walk me to the underground?”

“I have my car over there, I can just drive you?” He points to somewhere off in the distance, probably where his car is. I nod, what the heck, I don’t want to take the underground at night.

It’s gotten much colder since I left home, and now I wish I didn’t leave home without a jacket. I mentally scold myself for thinking it was a smart idea to wear a sleeveless crop top at night in November. I swear it wasn't this cold when I left, however, I've always been immune to the cold, living in Michigan and all. I start to shiver, rubbing my arms. Harry looks down at me saying, “Hey are you cold?”

I stare at him, watching him, “Nope.” He starts to pull his black sweater over his head, giving me a devilish grin. I’m not taking his sweater. That is not happening.  “Nope, Harry nope do not, stop it,” I sprint across the street but he catches up to me. He stops me on the side walk and starts pulling the sweater over my head. I try to struggle, but he’s too strong. He gets it to my shoulder and I say, “I swear to god do not put that thing on me or I will rip your balls off.”

He mocks me for a minute, “If you don’t like me like that it won’t be a big deal if you take it?”

I stall for a second, thinking about his manipulation. I’m cold though, so screw it. “Fine, whatever, Jesus just give it to me.”

A huge grin spreads across his face, “That’s what I thought.”

..

I get home, and I’m exhausted. All I can think about is going to sleep. I pull off my boots, tights, and skirt, leaving only Harry’s sweater on. I nuzzle my face into it, pulling my knees to my chest. I take one last sniff of Harry’s scented sweater and then I drift slowing into sleep, thinking about him. 

a/n

he looks like sucha dick in the picture i love him