Friends.

Chapter 29

I text Niall as I ride the lift up to my apartment after a rather uneventful day at work today, confirming plans for him to come over tonight for dinner.

I curse the headache that has been plagueing me all day as I focus on the screen of my iphone, I am so preoccupied by my phone that when the doors of the elevator open I don't notice the presence of someone sitting on the couch in my apartment. The startling realisation elicits a shriek from my mouth, until I realise it's Harry. Then I scream even louder, internally. The wind is knocked out of me instantly, like it so frequently is around him and I want to run back into the lift and disappear. But this is my apartment, he is in my territory and I won't let him dictate my actions. I'm sick of him having such a great influence over my happiness and most of the time my level of sanity. 

My heart beat quickens and my head throbs worse than it previously was just from being in his company. Whatever this is, whatever reason he has for casually sitting on my couch, a boquet of red roses in his hand, it's going to drain alot of energy that I don't have. Strength, my resolve, logic, hatred, anger, these are all things I need to hold on to around him, and I would be lieing if I don't admit to myself that I'm terrified of those slipping away and what could happen. 

I ignore the way his eyes light up when he sees me and he springs to his feet, holding the roses out to me but I shake my head at him, staring into his eyes begrudgingly with purposeful dismay. 

"How did you get in here?" I sigh through gritted teeth, trying to keep my cool. 

"I have a spare key..." He says, of course he does, of course I gave my best friend a key, that was the rational thing to do at the time. If I look at him too much, I will be sucked in my his sharp jawline, his piercing eyes and my favourite dimpled smile, I stare at the ground to avoid these things pulilng me in. His biggest weapon is his charm, I've seen him use it on girls to get what he wants so many times before, but never have the stakes been so high, and never has it affected me, until he chewed me up and spat me out. 

"I'm going to go into my room and when I come out you better not be here." I say simply, my tone neutrel and I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing his presence alone is killing me. My cheeks feel hot, my palms are dampening and my heart beat is still increasing at a worrying rate. The tension in the air is strange, unlike anything I've experienced before. Normally between Harry and I, I am overwhelmed by the chemistry and frustrated by the sexual tension. But that's gone. Now the tension lingers as a mix between his hopefulness and my exhaustion. There's nothing of substance, it's saddening but promising for my resolve all at once. I really am done with him. I have to be. 

I walk past him and into my room, resting against my bedroom door and listening closely for the sound of the elevator closing, but it never comes and I know he's still out there waiting. No, no, no. He doesn't get to do this. He doesn't get to do this, I'm still recovering, it's only been two days since the last time he teared my heart to shreds. I exit fifteen minutes later to find him still in my living room, chewing on his bottom lip and rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, a telltale sign of his nerves. I don't care...I just don't. 

"What are you still doing here?" I ask, still not letting any emotion in my voice be heard, I need to reinforce to him how finished I am. I keep my distance, standing across from him with about two metres distance between us. There's not enough space in the world that would make this okay, that would make being around him easier, but I'm not letting it affect me. I'm fine. I have to be. 

"I brought you flowers..." He says with a small smile, holding the flowers out to me again but once again I just shake my head. 

"Please Char...don't do this." He pleas with me, his voice laced with a desperate tone that sends chills down my back.