About (Harry Styles)

32.

Some recent songs I've been listening to while writing:

Avalanche - Nick Jonas and Demi Lovato

Sea of Lovers - Christina Perri

I get where he is coming from. I understand his reason for being angry at me. I would be too if I found someone alone in a room with my diary wide open.

It would only be logical. But I hope he gives me the benefit of the doubt.

Would I him?

"I told you that I didn't read it. That should be proof enough for you," I say, each word slow and thoroughly thought out before they fall from my lips. "And if it's not enough for you, I don't know what else to tell you. I'm not acting. And if you ignorantly hate me for doing something I didn't even do, I won't even try to make you see my side because there would be no point in trying to convince you."

His gaze never falters on mine, shifting back and forth between my eyes, surveying them for any sign of perjury.

"You said you trusted me," I remind him, my tone low and fazed. "If you can't trust someone, then don't tell them bullshit."

As he processes my words, the striking color in his eyes seem to lighten, his tense stance relaxing minutely. He looks downward at the picture in my hand with a remorseful frown. I see him reach forward, his fingers briskly touching mine as he agilely takes it from my grasp, the small contact sending a surge of electricity through my nerves.

"Elaine." He calls out my name strenuously, a shiver erupting from a place close to my heart. The way my name effortlessly slips from his tongue, I've never noticed it til this moment.

"What?" I snap more crudely than I had hoped.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, causing me to blink in surprise, his tone back to the same old Harry. He closes his eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth as his hand rubs against his hairless jawline before they open back up. "I didn't mean to get so belligerent towards you. I'm just not accustomed to being rejected, and so I'm taking it harder than usual.."

"Rejected..."

His eyes uncomfortably dart to the side, trying to evade my gaze.

"Yeah...," he clears his throat. "Like you know how I feel about you but you obviously don't feel the same way about me, so I thought maybe moving to a different room might help relinquish whatever it is I feel when I'm with you."

"Well, is it working? Is being away from me ... working?" I ask, fighting myself from having any expectations.

A deep, unconvincing chuckle leaves his throat before his brows furrow together.

"Not yet. But it will. It has to." He says with a wary smile and a shrug of the shoulders. "I really don't have another choice. And on some level," he adds anxiously. "I think I left my journal here on purpose, so that I had a reason to see you again. I didn't think you'd actually see it."

"I didn't see anything, I swear, Harry," I add his name in a begging whisper, silently hoping he believed in me.

He doesn't say anything. Not a word but only our subtle breaths filling the air. He doesn't believe in me. He doesn't trust me.

"Okay," he says, a light sensation settling in my stomach.

"You believe me?" I ask. He nods, a small grin of contentment softening on his lips.

"I—," he starts. "I should go back now. Goodbye, Elaine."

He turns around to leave, never shooting a glance back at me as his fingers wrap around the door handle.

Stay. Don't go.

I want to say those words to him, but I can't find the courage. It's lost deeply within me in someplace lodged in the back of my throat. Being courageous and daring is what I want to be, but I'm nothing like it.

I'm not courageous. I'm not daring.

I'm just a coward. A coward who desperately does not want to disintegrate into this obliterating mess called love. Because it has failed me and other people in my life over and over, and I don't want to deal with it again.

I don't want to say the hypocritical words, "I like you," when I promised myself from the beginning of the very end that I would never love, let alone, 'like or have feelings' for someone after what happened with my last relationship. It's not even feasible for those words to slip my tongue.

"I don't want to be abandoned again," my words come out soft, so quiet that I'm not sure how he even heard it.

But he hears me, unfortunately, I think.

That was meant for my own thoughts to hear.

He spins back around, his features laced with consternation. He doesn't ask the meaning behind my words because he already knows. He knows that I've been left behind by the one man who was supposed to be the father in my life.

And even though I haven't told him much about my past relationship, the way I'm so resistent is a pronounced clue that it didn't end on really good terms. I'm sure he knows. He's a very observant person. He knew so many things about me with me not even having to tell him anything.

My eyes remain on his chest, taking notice of how close it is now than before. His index finger and thumb gingerly pinches my chin, carefully raising my head, forcing me to look at him.

"I'm not going anywhere, Elaine," he whispers, his accent of pure compassion. Such simple words from him can move me in such a way I have never been moved before. "If you ask me to stay, I'll stay. I won't go anywhere, I promise. I will never abandon you."

"Stay," I can barely say, out of vulnerability.

"Now it's my turn to ask," he mumbles with a half a smile. "Do you have feelings for me?"

Looking away, I bite my bottom lip in attempt not to give him an immediate reply. There are going to be burdening consequences if I confirm to him that I do have feelings for him, no doubt. I'm not ready to face them. I'm not. I don't think I'll ever be.

But why do I want to trust him? Why do I think he's different from the rest of them?

"You know what," he begins, his voice bringing my gaze back to him. "You don't have to tell me."

I don't?

"Because I already know," he pauses, looks down briefly, wrapping one hand around mine, guiding it to the left side of his chest. He delicately sprawls out my fingers with his, laying it flat against his chest. He firmly holds it in place, the warmth through his grey cotton T-shirt radiating into my palm. "Even if you don't say it out loud, your eyes give you away. Your heart speaks through them."

A/n: If you haven't noticed yet, I changed/shortened the title to only 'About'. So far, I've gotten great feedback from everyone which makes me so happy! I know this is a short chapter, but I didn't want to continue on to another scene. It would feel out of place. In other news, I think there's only two days (2 chapters) left of the cruise! More time to bond, yeah!

Ps. I think we're on the halfway point of this story. Thank you ssssooooo so much to those who has kept by my side and kept reading through the fillers. I love you all <3333