melancholy town | h.s

forty

"I'm not cleaning outside." I say and Harry laughs, tying a knot with the black bag.

"The rain has taken care of that." He says putting the bag against the kitchen island before checking the pantry for food.

I would say the kitchen was clean, but it just looked like we threw everything into a cupboard and dipped. Clean enough. Harry and I make some toast for breakfast, sitting up in his bedroom to eat it whilst silently watching The Godfather. The rain was incredibly loud, drowning out the sound of the TV.

Harry places the plates somewhere on his messy bedroom floor before getting comfortable in his bed. He raises his arms behind his head, messing his curls up even more.

"I'm not driving you home until the storm passes so make yourself at home." Harry randomly announces whilst looking at me. "And lose the attitude." He adds and I scoff.

"What attitude?" 

"You're still angry at me and I won't have it." Harry says and I playfully roll my eyes.

"Jeez sorry dad." I mock, earning a small smirk from him.

"Shut up."

"Has Liam said anything?"

"Babe you need to chill out. He couldn't remember how many toes he had last night." Harry says and I chuckle at the memory.

"That was because you were pestering him with questions while he was throwing up." I say back, Harry joining me in a short burst of laughter, reminiscing on how drunk Liam was.

I make myself cosy on Harry's bed, resting against the large pillows. This was.. nice. I mean my hangover was a son of a bitch and I just want to get knocked out. But I didn't mind being at Harry's now. A couple of weeks ago I would've thrown a rock at someones head if they asked me to hang out with Harry. But now I enjoy his company.

Out of curiosity, I turn the slightest bit, making sure I didn't make my headache twenty times worse and ask, "Where's your mum?" 

Harry shrugs his shoulders. "Out somewhere. Probably with another boyfriend or some shit like that." He says angrily and I kind of regret asking. I had to ask. I still have the paranoia of being walked in on. Fucking Liam..

"Why?" He turns to make eye contact.

"Just curious." I shrug and he doesn't say anything. Or move his angry gaze.

"Sorry if it pissed you off-" I start to say but he cuts me off.

"Nah it didn't." He lies and the room falls back into silence.

It did.

"Harry I can tell it did." I tell him and he huffs.

"You wouldn't get it." He says and I almost laugh.

"I'm pretty sure I would." I say. I'm pretty sure someone like me would understand mother problems. I mean, just look at our 'relationship'. I mentally shudder at the thought of seeing my mother again.

"I hate her bringing back absolute wankers. It's like she's blind when it comes to dating guys. She goes out with scums who just use her." Harry scowls. "It just pisses me off."

I'm stuck on what I should say back. I was expecting something more on the lines of 'she's a bitch', something I could relate to. But this I couldn't. Mainly because my mu- Joanne doesn't come home with a guy let alone at all.

"Have you told her how you feel?" I ask the most stupidest question.

"Obviously but she gets angry because she thinks that it's 'true love' or some bullshit like that." Harry rants, forming quotation marks with his fingers emphasising true love.

"What about your dad?" I ask and Harry stays silent.

"Har-" I start but am immediately shut off.

"I fucking heard you. Don't mention him ever again." Harry's voice becomes louder and more aggressive, shutting me up completely. The fuck? This was not where I was expecting the conversation to lead to.

I stare blankly at the TV screen not knowing what to say now. I've never seen anyone get so angry at mention of their father.

"Sorry," Harry mutters loud enough for me to hear.

"It's cool." I say, shrugging off my other questions, not wanting to throw another match into the fire. I didn't like him talking to me that way but I understand. I hate when people bring up the topic of my mother, as Harry does about his father.

Harry presses his body close to me, placing his large hand on my thigh. I look down and place my small hand on top of his in a comforting manner. I want to punch myself in the face for making him feel uncomfortable and for trying to pry into his life. Who was I turning into? 

I hate getting to know someone too personally because then you're basically forced to get attached to them. Nessa and Zayn are an exception. I actually enjoy their company. But Harry was a different story. He's making me feel something towards him that I've never felt before. I don't know what is and I don't like how it's making me feel.