Amour. (editing)

Chapter seventeen.

The trip that I got a ravished about did not actually involve me or any of the youngsters. It was trip to a farm house located at the out skirts of the big city which Harry's parents had invited them so they could spend some peaceful, quality time together. Not to sound boorish, but I was content to not have 2/3 elders berating on each and every move I make.

Another positive point of this, which I reckon is possible, I won't be seeing Harry Styles more often. I'll have enough time to push him back and terminate the nugatory train of thought choo-chooing all corners of my brain, whose fog started to take away my senses gradually.

I don't quite understand why Harry Styles comes along with his family every single damned time and I start to thing he only does that only to drive up my wall. He is a good driver, I'll give him that.

"I'm going Zoology this semester, most probably." Iris confesses, flipping a lock of hair disrupting her view.

"Wise choice." Harry states.

"Right!"

"You should have knowledge about yourself." Harry jokes. I bite the huge grin wanting to show itself at his words, Iris narrowing her eye in return. Gemma simply laughs at his comment.

"Or Agronomy?" She muses at her own idea.

"I'm gratified! You know you're only capable of becoming a farmer, love."

"Says the boy who is actually dressed like one."

The kitchen fills with famine laughter, Gemma slapping her hand against the slap. I quietly laugh, looking down to hide my face. When I look up to notice Harry's reaction, his eye connects with mine. His lips pursed, corners curving in a fair smile. I look away.

He did dress quite bewilderingly, ridiculously...different. White button down, crème circular hat. He seemed to pull up the ridiculous attire though, but his attitude and thoughts darken his looks, making him look less intriguing.

Their laughs slowly seize down and I watch Gemma clear fake tears from under her eyes only to tease her brother.

"I pity you for having no knowledge on fashion."

"I may not know fashion, son." Iris speaks, "But I do know that farmer style is definitely not in."

Gemma and I giggle fairly at their entertaining argument while Harry just sighs. "Sweetheart enlighten me," He scratches his cheek. "What bloody kind of a farmer will dress this damn hot?"

"Whatever, Styles."

Iris' statement had silenced the boy, nothing thrown by him for at least 10 minutes. Conversations consisted about the careers we had in mind, what fields had our attention. I had always kept my expectation low. The higher the expectation you carry, the tremendous the slap you get when your expectation are not met. Anything can happen, life is unpredictable; people are unpredictable actually.

I scroll down Instagram while Iris and Gemma argue on a topic I had lost my interest on. I could sense eyes on me now and then, making me force my eyes on the screen instead of looking up. Something gave me a hint it was Harry. Annoyance sparks inside of me. I perceive both female slowly exiting the place, still busy in their talk. Avoiding being alone with Harry, I opt to leave this place.

"Aa, hey." Harry jolts up. "Indiana can we talk?" It was his voice, the way he sounded so calm and kind made me pause and think.

I may act like I've known Harry for a lot more than three weeks, like he has hurt me more times and I have gave him more chances. It may not have been a month but, nonetheless, only these 3 weeks were enough to convince me that Harry Styles isn't something that can be understood with ease and I would loathe to waste my time with someone who clearly doesn't gives me the similar respect that I tend to contribute.

I turn to him. "No," I control from making an excuse. He should straight off know how he has lost all my interest. Proud of that little courage I gained from nowhere, I exit the place in a faster pace. I skip stairs multiple times, receiving a heart attack when I slipped but gained my balance eventually. I could sense footsteps ascending up stairs but managed to enter my room.

"Indie, listen!" He strides inside of my room before I could even take any action.

"Not now." I sigh. "I'm lacking the temper too, so can you please jus-"

"Were you going to kiss me?" The fury inside me is going to overflow anytime now. I wanted to scream at how fucking selfish and stupid he was acting. How angry and hurt he is making me feel because of absolutely nothing. I had so much to say, my thoughts are such a mess which I can't seem to have
my dominance over. But instead of saying all that I should have, to fire at him I answer differently.

"If you're going to play with human feelings like this, it won't get you anywhere. It won't give you anyone. You won't ever have real people around you. You will never find peace and you just need to stop because I'm done coping with your twisted moods and turning attitudes."

Wrath fills in those jade green eyes and my brain begins to regret things. "You don't know me. Just because we hung out a few fucking times doesn't at all means you start judging me." He takes a step forward and I take one backwards.

"I'm not judging you!"

"Surely doesn't seem like it, Chandler."

I always despised one element of mine. The kind of element that could have gotten me to places, gave me chances with people and had created much better relationship. And that was fear. Fear of saying the things I want to. Sometimes I do, but I always back away at the moment. It won't be counted in my deliberate actions. It just happens against my will.

"You should be friends with someone else, I'm done."

The hardness in his eyes replaces with something different but it disappears as fast as it came. I was glad to notice it. Which also made me think that maybe he is going to apologize, but the though vanished when his eyes turned hard again; protecting every emotion from me.

He laughs, "Let's not get so happy here. We were never friends." And with that, he storms out of the room, still chuckling.

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