Dark (Harry Styles fanfic)

Chapter 59

But it's not.

Dan was the recipient of her playful smile and the gesture might as well have been loaded with daggers. My heart lurched at the feeling of absence. She would never look at me like that again, and I was cruelly selfish to wish otherwise. I continued to suffer as they walked to his car. My distaste was bitten back when he opened the passenger door for her and she climbed in.

"Fucking arsehole," I muttered, turning away and proceeding around the corner.

***

It's an odd feeling, something reserved for fairy tales of guardian angels.

***

"Mother fu..."

He was there again. For the last two afternoons he was there, spoiling the few minutes I cherished of seeing her after work. I pressed the bundled clothing I held tighter to my body, building the courage I had in motivation.

Nothing was really planned, there was no aim in which I sought to achieve other than the item I carried. I crossed the quiet road to the edge of the car park, vaulting the low wall with one hand. He shouted back into the shop, addressing a playfully urgent need for someone to join him outside. That was until he laid him eyes upon me.

Perhaps it was the way I was charging towards him or the strong clench to my jaw. I was pretty sure he predicted a punch to the face; well, that was what I assumed as he took a wary step back. I would have hit him, a clean right hook to knock him flat out, but I wasn't there to cause injury.

Once my presence had settled in his mind the fear dissolved. I despised the look he gave me, one of confusion and subtle victory. There was little difference in our height, but much to compare in our need to assert dominance in the situation. I didn't bother because I knew how conceited he was.

"Give this to her," I firmly instructed.

My hand shoved at his chest, along with it, the fabric I'd creased into a ball.

"What?"

He'd expected confrontation and it appeared he was a little annoyed at the lack of it. I felt sure he'd have loved to have told his friends about getting a hit in, confirming just how much of a prat he was.

"Just give it to her."

Dan knew exactly of the person I spoke of. He was going to make this difficult, and even if it were true, my preference would have been with him rather than facing her.

"She doesn't want anything from you. Not anymore."

"Are you her representative now?"

He remained silent.

"You're a smug prick, you know that?" I chimed.

Bloody hell, I hope you like this.

Have you ever felt watched? Watched with a feeling of soft familiarity rather than predatory pursuit? Have you ever felt watched over?

Harry's POV

I pulled into the parking space, applying the handbrake and cutting the ignition. Once I'd wrestled with unclipping the belt my hands were at a loss. At least while I was driving they had a purpose, firmly planted to the steering wheel. They seemed to occupy themselves when I had nothing and no-one to hold, constantly fidgeting, picking at my nails, pinching at skin to confirm that I was actually here. Again.

My lip was nearly bitten raw, shifting in the seat. I rubbed at my eyes with a closed fist, a weak attempt at combating the exhaustion of restless nights. I pushed the sleeve of my coat up slightly, double checking the hands on my watch. Four minutes.