Flicker 》Harry Styles x Kennedy Walsh {COMPLETED}

10: Blue Speech Bubbles

This waiting game is stressing me out, and it had not escaped my family's notice that I'd been checking my phone every two seconds for notifications. I replied yesterday afternoon, which means it has now been hours since that.

"You're like a schoolgirl with a massive crush," Brandon snorts, catching me check my phone again.

"It's Harry Styles," I deadpan.

He leans over the couch, propping himself up on his elbow. "So he's rich and famous, so undeniably your type—you know with the curly hair and jawline thing—"

"Things you'll never be."

"Okay," he just laughs it off, "there are, for sure, a million other girls after him including but not limited to Victoria's Secret models and Kendall Jenner type of people."

A front automatically rises, and I act like I wasn't the least bit affected by that dig. He watches me, no hint of smugness on his face and I know I have to let that slide. I sigh internally. You would think living with women for more than twenty years would make him a bit more sensitive than other men, but somehow those innate idiotic tendencies always resurface. And sometimes I gotta be the bigger person.

Yeah, no.

"What's up with you?" I ask, making him frown in confusion. "You're like listing off things you'll never have."

"Ken, I'm just saying."

He says that before chuckling, and the urge to piss him off is stronger than ever. Claudia had been on her phone across the room and decides that was the perfect time to intervene.

"Brandon, lay off," she sighs, "don't ruin this for Kennedy."

"What—how am I ruining it for Kennedy?"

Claudia goes off, clearly from irritation. Men are so blind sometimes. "You're literally jabbing on every girl's insecurities." She huffs at Brandon's clueless face. "How would you feel if a Victoria's Secret model messages you and we basically tell you not to be excited about it 'cause she probably could have any guy in the world including you because she's 'rich and famous?'"

"I wouldn't be bitter about it," he shrugs.

"Brandon, you fųcking idiot," I yell at him. "This is the exact reason why you don't have a girlfriend."

"Twenty-five years with women and you're still as dumb as fųck," Claudia mutters, getting up and heading to her room. To which I reply with an "Amen, sister!"

I roll my eyes at him and move towards my own room. Fųcking idiotic brother. This is one of the few times I want to choke him so badly and I hate it, I hate it so much when he gets like this 'cause it affects me too. The cloud returns and I feel myself spiraling into a bad mood.

I can feel the excitement from having Harry reply leave my body. It's a terrible feeling, having anticipation ripped away from you and just leaving a void of where it used to sit. I try to get my mind off of it but she just won't cooperate.

Along with my darkening mood came the overthinking. Brandon was right, even when he was being such a díck about it. Harry could have anyone he wanted and he did—Kendall Jenner, Camille Rowe, a few other girls he had been rumored to be an item with.

The media had painted him as a Casanova, and there was a basis behind that. Maybe he really had dated all those girls and briefly enjoyed their company. God knows how many times he's been photographed out with them and how many articles had been published about his conquests. Maybe he really is a player and he's hitting on an array of different girls—I catch myself mid-thought. Way to fųcking go, Kennedy. Way to judge a guy without actually having met him.