Beautiful Stranger

eight.

Hellooo lovely readers!

I'm here to post a new chapter! (finally cough cough)

Anywho, this time around i've decided to experiment with the third person writing like i'm used to.

Tell me what you think of it!

I hope you guys like the chapter, i love you all! xx

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Scarlett POV

Silence spreads quickly like wild fire and a panicked feeling sets in my gut. Harry’s eyes bug out even more, if that’s possible. Emily grins and says,

“Not what you expected, Styles? As you know, I’m full of surprises.” Harry opens his mouth for a few fleeting seconds and then closes it. I just stare at Emily and feel a huge burst of hatred; for ruining Harry’s life, for ruining everything. Harry’s eyes are cold, emotionless and he just fixes his blank stare on Emily’s face. I blink, once, twice, and then swallow harshly. I can tell Harry’s fighting back something, something big. Harry sighs finally and runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Emily narrows her eyes and replies,

“Course I am, Harry. Don’t you see the resemblance?” Harry pauses and then admits grudgingly,

“I guess.” My stomach twists in knots and I reach for Harry’s hand and he takes mine, holding it in a death grip. I admire the way our hands fit together perfectly, how his warm palm sends butterflies through my whole body. Harry rubs his eye and reality sets in, “I’m not ready to be a dad.” He sniffs a little and I grip his hand harder. He slings his arm around my waist and puts his lips to my ear. “What do I  do now?” I bite my lip.

“I’m not sure, babe.” I murmur back. We just stand there and stare at each other for a couple heartbeats until when we look back at the door, Emily’s gone, as well as Austin. I peek my head out the door but sure enough, they’re both gone, and the left as quickly as they arrived.

Savannah POV

(third person)

The room is quiet, silent, and nothing moves. Nothing makes a sound.

Connor.

His name echoes through her head again and again, bringing back old memories and nightmares. She clutches her stomach, her expression blank, as it had been for the past couple of days. He was the death of her, that man, and she couldn’t even bear to think his name.

Zayn.

He was mysterious and confusing, that guy. She doesn’t really know what to think of him, all that she knows is that he’s most probably the father of her baby. He’s abrupt and hard to read. Savannah isn’t really sure what to think of him.

Niall.

The sweetest guy she knows, who was always there for her if she ever needed anything. Now that he’s gone, she misses him more than ever. Are there feelings there? Perhaps. Not strong, but they’re there. Does he have feelings for her? Only time will tell.

She sighs, wiping the tears from her face. She’s cried more in the past week than she has in her entire life, and that’s saying a lot. She’s supposed to be the tough one, the shoulder to cry on, and now she’s weak. As much as she hates to admit, she’s broken and her walls are securely built up again. She wonders if anyone cares enough to break them down. Probably not. She thinks to herself, wrapping her arms around her legs. Usually she’s the rebel, the one of barely any emotions, the tough girl. But now she’s reduced to a sobbing, hormonal mess, and she hates it. She hates feeling useless, she hates feeling lonely, she hates everything. She despises feeling this way, but she doesn’t reach out. Because that would be acknowledging weakness. And she’s not ready for that. Savannah blows a strand of hair from her face, staring blankly across the room, looking at the pain peeling on the wall across from her. She’s already lost enough of her dignity. She’s a naturally proud, independent girl, not a girl who asks for help. She swallows the lump in her throat. Savannah doesn’t really care what people think about her anymore. Nothing really matters anymore.