fight for control ↠ harry styles [b1] ✓

CHAPTER 47

We stood there for a while, the embrace felt warm and safe. Her fingers gently stroked my back through my shirt which helped me calm my nerves which came out of nowhere. She showed she cared because she couldn't verbally explain it. The way she acted spoke more than the words that left her lips.

I just hoped I wasn't reading the signs wrong.

"Better?" she questioned softly after she pulled back from me. She ran her fingers through her hair, flicked it from one side to the other, then put both of her hands on her waist.

"I... yeah. Uh, I guess," I let out a breathy chuckle as my eyes went everywhere but to her waiting gaze. "I'll... should we start getting ready? I might get in the shower, if that's ok?"

"Yeah. Sure," she nodded. "As you go out the next door to your left is the bathroom," she informed me and sat down on her bed. "I'll get you a towel and there should be some kind of shower gel in there, too."

I nodded as I watched her get back up and leave the room. I sighed loudly as I sat on her bed and hid my face in my hands. This was kind of stressing me out. I wasn't sure why, I just felt strangely pressured. When the idea came to my mind to ask her willingly to bring me home, it didn't occur to me that it would impact my mood so much. The way I felt was weird.

I wanted to come off like the perfect man for Kensington and I hated that I felt like I had to put on a front. I felt out of place in the house, in the room, in the company of her or her parents. They were really nice and welcoming, that wasn't the problem. I felt like I was interrupting their weekend, like I was not meant to be here and I didn't know why I suddenly panicked so much.

Somewhere deep down, I was also pretty fucking jealous. She was so loved by her parents. She mentioned a few times that they fought all the time and they didn't believe her when she shared personal things with them. But even on top of that, they had nothing but adoration for their daughter. They looked at her like she was the best thing to ever walk on this damn planet, and trust me, I knew she was, I thought that too. The only problem was that she didn't see it.

Out of nowhere, I felt a slight push on my shoulder and my head snapped upwards. Kensington stood there, with the towel in her hand. I just stared up at her as my eyes burned a little, my vision became blurrier by the second and I had no fucking clue what happened.

She slammed the door shut – or maybe she just closed it with a bit more force than she wanted to – before she threw the towel on the bed and sat down next to me.

"What have I done now?" she questioned quietly. Her words made my heart wrench, her tone was very emotional yet the one thing I heard the clearest was how lost she felt. "Should I have taken you to get a towel with me? Do you not like the colour or something?"

No words came out of my mouth, I shook my head as a response. I heard her sigh heavily, her hands were between her thighs and she fiddled with her fingers. She had long, red nails and they were coffin shaped. She had a few rings on her fingers, too, all of them silver, decorated with diamonds. She had two bracelets wrapped around her left wrist, the jewellery silver, again, one of them decked out with diamonds, the other just a basic hard band. I could tell they were from the same brand and there was about ten thousand pounds worth of accessories on her hands.

She clearly was doing well for herself.

"Is this about Matt?" she questioned suddenly. I felt her eyes on the side of my face. "I know we left things off a bit strange after the funeral so I have no idea where you stand with the topic. If something triggered you by being here, let me know."

"I don't know," I mumbled the only thing that made sense. I didn't know. Kensington sighed next to me, again, and I thought it was about time I started counting how many times she had done that. "I'll just go take a shower," I told her quietly and stood up as I grabbed the towel.