Through The Dark || Harry Styles

36. HARRY

HARRY

Last night was rough.

Lucy tossed and turned between restless bouts of disturbed sleep. She woke up several times and cried into her pillow, sometimes wanting my comfort and other times not.

I tried to settle her the best I could, making coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches, putting on 'boring' old movies to take her mind off her reality while I ran my fingers through her hair and counted the hours of darkness away.

As time dragged on and the night fades into the early morning light, I have become more and more secure in my decision to stop Amy from telling her right after the funeral.

Lucy, although distraught, is furious and feels betrayed, but at least she's not dealing with all of that on top of her soul-crushing grief anymore. I'm not worried that she is going to take her life in her hands or drink herself into oblivion like I was before.

She's is devastated, yes. But she will get through this.

We will get through this.

What I didn't expect, is Amy to completely fucking disappear and never own up to her wrongdoings.

The sun is only just creeping over the horizon as I crawl back into bed beside Lucy, having fed Lola so she doesn't have to worry about any mundane task.

Her face is soft as fatigue takes over, dark circles encasing her eyes as she stares sadly into mine.

"Thanks for looking after Lola," she says quietly.

"I love her," my lips lift into a lopsided smile and I catch a tiny fleeting sparkle in Lucy's eyes.

We are silent as we huddle in the comfort of her sheets, barely touching but our noses no more than an inch or so apart.

"Harry?" her voice is unsure and it makes my pulse gallop.

"Mmm?"

"Do you ever think about the night we met?"

My heart catapults into my chest at the topic we have so expertly avoided since that very day.

"Yes," even though my words are all-encompassing, they are also completely understated. The questions and frustrations I have about that night circle my brain more often than not and I've tried so hard in the past to forget about it.

But I can't.

Jake had told me at the time how excited he was about the new girl he was dating. He was optimistic and giddy with the prospect of the future with her.

I just never expected it would be at the detriment of my own.

She was it; I knew it, from the first moment I saw her. Maybe the memories are romanticised in my head, rose-tinted glasses and whatnot, or I feel more certain about the events of that night with the beauty of time passed.

But there was definitely something about her.

I remember thinking fast and delivering a little white lie, telling her that I had finished my shift when she ordered her first drink just so I could sit with her, talk to her, be close to her.

It was only 9 pm on a busy Friday night and I was told by my boss not to return for my final shifts. I was leaving anyway and it was worth it.

But the shitty reality came to light within a matter of hours, Jake had won her over first, his charm no match for mine and I bowed out gracefully, as I would have hoped he would do for me if the roles were reversed.

Guy code, or some shit.

In fifteen years, we had never fought over a girl and although everything inside of me wanted to fight for this one, I was moving to the other side of the world only a few days later and there was no point.