Through The Dark || Harry Styles

5. LUCY

LUCY

I hoped that after I finished the salad sandwich he brought over and cleaned our dishes, Harry would take the hint and leave. But, it's been hours and he's still here, insisting on lounging across my couch like a slob, flicking through my coffee table books that are now out of order and making small talk that I don't have the patience for on a good day.

I get that he doesn't want to be alone in a hotel room or at his parent's house, or wherever the hell he is staying, but I do.

Alone — That's my new reality, so I should get used to it.

"What did you have planned for tonight?" Harry asks from where he holds Lola on the couch, the sun starting to set past the window sill behind him. He looks up from grinning at her little face, his fingertips scratching her ears. She seems to be enjoying his company so I am enduring it.

"Just... getting through it," I tell him honestly and I can see his stomach drop just from the look on his face.

I know I am being miserable and awful company, but there's nothing I can do about it.

"Wanna watch a movie?" he suggests.

I'm so frustrated at his persistence that I'm on the verge of tears. "No, I don't. I want to be alone, Harry."

"Hmm, let's see," he ignores me and takes the remote control to turn on the TV, his lips puckered up into a pout as he flicks through the choices. Just like I had realised two nights ago, everything seems depressing or reminiscent of Jake in someway.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying not to be as rude as he always is to me.

"Nothing with romance," I mumble.

"Got it."

"Or violence."

"Okay."

"Or weddings."

"Lucy..."

"Or ghosts."

He raises an eyebrow before nodding and a restless hand combs through the front of his hair.

"Or-" I start before he leans over and puts the same hand on my knee.

"Lucy," his eye contact is intense and for the first time in a week, I feel my heartbeat. "I understand. Let me choose something."

His voice is direct without being harsh. I hate control being taken from me almost as much as I hate people in my personal space, but I'm too tired to fight. My skin tingles from his unexpected touch but I push the feeling from the forefront of my mind and pull Lola from his lap to mine.

He continues to flick through the movies, showing in no way that he's as unnerved by his affection as I am.

Normal people like comfort, I tell myself as I hug Lola a little tighter.

My eyes subtly scan the man next to me. Harry is a really good looking guy. He is masculine but somehow kind of pretty. He has chestnut curls that look impossibly soft and wind down around his ears, enviable green eyes, and a single dimple that pops in his left cheek. His lips are pouty and pink but shiny from his impulse to constantly wet them with his tongue and there is a tiny beauty spot below the corner of his mouth. Anyone would say he is classically handsome, but those that speak to him find it's his boyish charm that drags people in.

"You should go on a date with Amy," I blurt out.

His strong jaw tenses and I notice his Adam's apple bob as he swallows harshly.