Suspicions (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 32

The sun sets above the trees and I lean back onto the brick chimney. My phone's been buzzing non stop since I retreated up here.

I always came to the roof when things were bad. I could look down on everyone and everything and forget about my petty problems. Everything shrunk when I was up here and I felt... better, somehow.

I wipe my eyes as the sky turns a dark blue and lift myself higher on the slated roof. I watch as Jacob, goes to his house nextdoor. I know he knows where I am, and he's sure as hell gunna come up here and talk to me about it.

I sigh and try to gather my thoughts. Harry never burnt the book. I trusted him to do one thing and he broke his promise to me. Who would do that?! Even worse, can I trust him again? I've told him everything about me and trusted him not to tell or show anyone. It was a secret. Now it's a shared secret and you know what they say ; a shared secret is no secret at all.

Is it my fault? Was I too naive to trust him? It's happened before, obviously but I thought Harry was better than this. Maybe I pressured him with too much secrecy that he couldn't stand it any longer? It was my fault. I piled it on him assuming he could take it when he obviously couldn't.

Nothing would have happened if it wasn't for this stupid 'get together'.

Whats-her-face was the one who pulled the trigger. She couldn't keep to her own slutty business could she? No. She had to be a bitch. The bitch. UGH!

I'm so angry at myself! I don't want any of this to be happening. I pull at my hair and bring my knees to my chest. This was not how it meant to happen.

I hear a stumble and turn to see Jacob loosing his balance on his roof. I chuckle to myself through my tears.

"Hey gurl," Jacob sighs, having finally jumped the gap between our two buildings. He sits next to me and offers me a swig of whatever alcohol is in this canister thing. I take it and soon discover the burning pleasure of whiskey.

"Who-" I cough before finishing, my voice sounds like it belongs to a 60 year old smoker. "Who do you trust the most?"

Jacob thinks for a while, his plucked eyebrows coming together in a frown.

"My Dad." he replys."He supported me no matter what and he knows my insecurities and secrets. The onky person he's told is the people he knows that I trust. Get me?"

I think about it for a minute, the wind blowing in my hair.

"No, I can't say that I do." I frown and lean my head on his shoulder. We sit silently watching the stars come out.

"Harry wants to talk to you." Jacob says softly. I sigh and close my eyes, lifting my head off his shoulder as he leaves me alone once again.

Now I'm left with this burning question. What do I do now?

A.N. Hey sorry I didn't update on Monday, I was a bit busy :/  Thanks for all the support! :)

Lurrrv,

Mama Hermit xx