Envy

Thirteen.

Thirteen.

I stretch my back backwards and frontwards, taking in instructions from Miss. Trish. I have always been closer to her than any of my other friends, and that has started because on my first day of school I dropped food on my white t shirt, and from pure humiliation, I ran to the bathroom, to only bump into Miss. Trish, who very nicely offered me a clean black shirt to wear from her collection. Since then, I haven’t worn a white t shirt to school, or anywhere that had food.

“So, who was that boy back in the music room?” she asked with a smirk.

I chuckle, ha, as if I have any love life, “No one really, you interrupted my admiration with him” 

“Oh, I’m sorry” she was not sorry at all

“He sure can play the guitar though, it was so soothing” I pushed off the hair that was sticking to my sweaty forehead.

“Yeah, I heard a bit of it, you should speak to him”

“Don’t you dare play match-maker” I send her a playful glare.

“Whatever you say” she shot her hands up in defence.

+

“It hurts” I scream, opening my eyes, to only realise Harry was lying on the couch beside me.

“You… You were crying while you were asleep” he says, rubbing his sleepy tired eyes.

“It hurts Harry” I repeat, holding my arms around my stomach, trying to keep bile from rising up my throat, “My heart really hurts”

It does. It hurts so bad. I can’t even close my eyes without memories of Niall coming swarming and suffocating my brain. I feel like every time I try to rest, I am hit by a massive truck loaded with Niall-memories.

Harry scoots closer to me, putting my dangling legs on his lap and holds my arms, “Calm down, it will be over soon”

“Will it really?” I ask, not meaning to sound like a bitch, but I do.

“Yes, yes it will” he doesn’t even sound convinced by his own words. Who’s he to speak? Has he even gone through such pain?

“You don’t know what I’m going through” I pull my hands away from him and wipe the fresh tears off.

“Trust me, I do”

The dim light illuminating from the muted TV reflect pain from his own eyes. Why’s he pained? I will never understand Harry Styles, no matter how long we have known each other. I seem to not understand men at all. And they say woman are confusing, but have they dealt with themselves?

His right cheek is blotted red, probably from sleeping on it, and his green eyes are blue in the dark. Such a beautiful green-blue sea colour.

“Okay” I muttered, pulling him beside me on the couch, “Lie down with me”

“Gladly” he whispers and kisses my cheek before removing the hair drooping all over my face like curtains. I close my eyes and hope that this pain won’t wake me up again.

+

“Yeah, she’s alright” I hear a raspy voice echoing from the kitchen, “She just needs some rest, don’t worry, I have an eye on her” he carries on, “Yeah-“ I push the blankets off my sweaty body and scrunch my eyes closed, trying to block the light illuminating from the kitchen. Harry looks startled and switches off the phone immediately, “Since when were you awake?”