Another Moment Passing by...

Chapter 26: What A Sad, Beautiful, Tragic Love Affair

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, sadness and confused regret coating his simple question. His tone made my heart ache, but the situation just didn't make sense.

"I think we need to talk about what we... are," I stated somewhat awkwardly. Understanding finally crossed his face, then a look that almost resembled fear. He hid it well, but I can read people like books. But what was he afraid of?

"Okay," he agreed, taking my hand and leading my up the staircase. Part of me told me to drop his hold, but I just couldn't bring myself to let go. It felt so right having my hand in his. His skin was slightly rough, but his hands were warm, and they held mine with such care. He led me into his and Louis' bedroom, closing the door and sitting me on the bed. He lounged, opening his arms up to me, but I refused his offer and simply just sat there. His disappointment was clear, but he didn't try to persuade me into his embrace like usual. I took a section the sheets in my fingers, rolling it in between my thumb and forefinger as I pondered how to go about launching this conversation and getting the truth of out of him. "So..." he trailed off, obviously expecting me to speak first and break down the wall I had just built.

"What exactly am I to you?" I asked bluntly, staring into his eyes. He just stared at me for a moment and it became clear that he didn't really have an answer. My heart sank. "So I'm not much, am I?" I assumed, not liking those words at all. They made my chest tighten and my head spin a bit. I even felt a little nauseous. I just felt so strongly about him, it killed me to think he didn't take this... relationship or whatever seriously. I hate feeling played, and right then I felt like a little doll in his hands. It was not me at all.

"Of course you mean something to me!" he protested, jumping to the defense quickly. "It's just..." he sighed, running his hand through his curls. He must've known how badly that made me want him. In fact, I could tell he knew. It was probably one of his tactics. Of course, the tiny, optimistic part of me rejected that idea. But like I said, I have very little optimism. Finally, his eyes met mine, and in them I could sense nothing but sincerity. That's a good thing. "Do you know what it's like to see the love of your life hanging by a belt from a hotel shower curtain rod?" His voice broke, his frank choice of words chilling me to the bone. Tears prickled behind my eyes, matching his. I pursed me lips, heart cracking as I recalled the horrible image of Dani's body swinging, ever so slightly. It had haunted me at night for weeks on end, and I could only imagine how Harry felt.

"I'm sorry," I replied simply, voice cracking as a single sob wracked through my body. I had been so insensitive. I tried to picture Harry committing suicide and then someone trying to force their love on me, whether I wanted it or not, and suddenly I hated myself. I put my face in my hands and lost it. It was like unplugging the drain on a tub and just letting all the water flow. Another shaking body wrapped around me, though his sobs were silent.

"I'm sorry to," he croaked quietly. "I like you a lot Megan, I really do, but it's hard." I nodded in acknowledgement, too shattered to even speak. I don't know how I had expected him to get over it so quickly and easily. "Megan?" he sniffled. I lifted up my face, still shuddering a bit by managing to compose myself well enough.

"Mhm?" I responded, still not trusting my voice. His eyes were red rimmed, and I wiped a few tears that still dotted his cheeks. He did the same, taking my face in his hands. He leaned in closer, my heart beat increasing with every inch of distance between us that was closed.

"I still want to try with us," he said, making my heart warm in response. I gave him a small smile, finding it amazing that he cared enough to say that, despite how crushed he still was. And he wasn't lying when he said any of it. That's what I loved about him; he was genuine in everything he did. He pecked my lips softly and I leaned in, accepting the confusion. I pulled back after a second, and he didn't try to stop me.

"So, we're taking this slow?" I asked, just to clarify and come to a final decision. He smiled and blinked, the red in his eyes fading to a light pink that was a sad, beautiful, tragic contrast to the normal, gorgeous pale green.

"If that sounds good to you," he agreed. A bittersweet smile spread across my face. I was still shaken, but Harry was helping to my feet.

"That sounds wonderful," I agreed, leaning in for another sweet kiss.

*Michelle's P.O.V.*

My tears had dried and now I was just plain embarrassed. Zayn was trying to comfort me, but I was indignantly refusing to allow it. I was pissed at myself for letting Veronica get to me. That whole situation was closer to fucking creepy and stupid than scary and clever. There were just a bunch of frigid, jealous bitches who needed to get over the past.

They were just like me.

"Babe, don't let them get to you," Zayn cooed, still trying to coax me into his embrace. I shook my head, blonde waves swishing.

"They're not getting to me," I insisted. I knew he didn't believe me, due to my meltdown, but oh well. I flinched in humiliation just recalling the horrible incident and my insufferable weakness. I heard a sigh come from behind me.

"At least come lie with me," he begged. I sighed. How could I say no to that voice? I fell into his arms, snuggling into his warm, muscular chest. He kissed the top of my head, making me feel at home. And that's the thing about Zayn; he's home to me. Wherever he is, I feel safe, like nothing can touch me. He has always been and always will be the love of my life. That realization was magnified in that moment. He had been there through everything. He had witnessed my freak attacks. He stayed. He saw the thin white marks of weakness and desperation on my wrists. He stayed. He watched me get thinner and thinner. He stayed. He watched me struggle to get better. He stayed. And that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. That was something that I would never be able to repay him for. He was there whenever I needed him, and that was a love that could never be replaced. He was always on my mind, always with me in my heart. I know that sounds extremely fucking cheesy, but I was just so damn in love with the boy. He was so good to me, and I didn't deserve him. Life was so much easier when he was going through it all with me. The battle was easier to win with him fighting it right there beside me. I lost a few times, I fell a lot. But when I messed up, he was always right there to pick up the pieces. He kept me together. I can honestly say I wouldn't be here to tell my story if it wasn't for him.

And when someone saves your life and is the reason for you to keep fighting, you can't repay that. All you can do is be there for them and love them. I didn't think that was enough, personally, but I gave him all I had. And as he pressed his lips to mine, right in that moment, I promised myself to never let go.