CHAPTER 28
HARRY
I am caught off guard by her moves, they seem desperate. Her hands are wrapped around my neck, and she presses her lips against mine so tightly they almost grow pale. She inhales deeply through her nose and I grab her waist, holding her body. Just as I'm about to move my hand further down, she stops me.
"I can't... go all th-" she starts and I suppress my instincts to fling her over my shoulder and throw her down on the couch. My pants have tightened by her hands all over me, her lips on me, and I take a deep breath to let her go. This is hard. I am hard.
"It's okay," I say, leaning my forehead on hers. When I open my eyes, I see her fluttering lids, struggling to keep closed. Her brows furrow and she backs away a few steps.
"I'm... gonna go take a nap," Claire breathes, her hands traveling up to my cheeks. She opens her eyes, and her hazel eyes glow into mine.
"It's been a long day," she continues, her breath recovering, a sheen of sweat gathering on her face.
"Yeah okay," my voice comes out hoarse and raspy. Figures, we were screaming at each other for a good 10 minutes before she kissed me. I still can't believe it. She kissed me.
My thumping head turns slightly colder the second her forehead leaves mine, and she walks away. I inhale deeply as I'm left alone.
I decide to take a nap as well, because ever since I got the call that she left the apartment, I have been worn down. As I pull out the sofa to a bed, I realize how tired I actually am, even though my heart is still racing. I haven't slept properly for days, so that must be why.
But now that I am reminded of how her lips feel on mine, of how it is to feel wanted...
I can rest.
•
•
CLAIRE
"I kissed him," I whisper, leaning against the bedroom door. Michael turns to me instantly, his eyes widening.
"You what?" He exhales, laced with a hint of amusement. My body regains function, and I walk over to the bed with idle feet.
"He... almost killed himself when he found me here, dead," I utter, the words unbelievable to me. Michael leans forward, his hand covering his mouth.
"Wow," he says with deep 'o'. This is overwhelming. Someone who I met a week ago, loves me so madly, that he would kill himself if he had to live without me. I rub my eyes, trying my best to not break down from the intense anxiety that courses through me.
"I got so mad at him, and he got so mad at me..." I continue, looking down on the white bed covers.
"And then next thing I know, I was clinging onto him, he had his arms all over me, and our lips were pressed against each other."
"I don't get it Claire, how could you kiss him after what he said?" Michael suddenly shakes his head, his brows lowering as he scowls at me.
"I- I don't kn- He told me why he took such extreme measures to keep me safe, he told me how he... felt." I say, but Michael's expression doesn't improve.
"Let me guess; he did all of those things because he loves you?" He suggests and I look away, because he's right. But he says it with judgemental tone, so I'm afraid to admit it.
"Honestly Claire, why don't you see it? People shouldn't do stuff like that to people they love. He should respect you and do everything to make you happy, but instead he locks you up and completely ignores your wishes?" He argues, and I detect a tone of hurt in his voice. Harry and him aren't the best of friends, but things are really starting to get bad between them.
"You came home today and it was literally the first time I've seen you smile since we picked you up at the hospital. It disappeared the second you saw Harry."
His words aren't meant to be hurtful, but they still are. Because they are true. Ugh, I just want to hit myself on the side of my head over and over again till I remember the last year of my life.
But like William says, I have to rely on medication and therapy. I just wish it wasn't this hard. And I know Michael doesn't have any bad intentions, he's just telling it like he sees it.
Even though Harry poured out his heart to me, told me he loved me, and is more dependent on me than I thought, it doesn't take away from the fact that he doesn't put my happiness first. And something in me tells me that if I were to be with him, I could never put my happiness first either.
"I told him after you left the room, that he shouldn't blame you," I tell him, and his face softens.
"Thanks," he mumbles, slicking his hair back.
"I still have something to discuss with you," He says, moving closer on the bed. His eyes suddenly turn a little sad.
"What's going on?" My curious mind makes me lean forward, as Michael stares down on the sheets.
"Your recovery is so important to me, and I know I said I would be here through it all..." He starts, and I can already see where this is going.
"But I'm going back to England." He finishes the simple sentence, and I sink down.
"What? If this is because of Harry, I'll-"
"It's not, Claire!" His voice raises, and his neck turns in frustration. I didn't notice it at first, but there are tears brewing in the corner of his eyes.
"I was scared for my life two days ago." He starts, a first tear rolling down his cheek. He rolls his eyes as he notices, and wipes it away instantly.
"Zayn was in the apartment, and I thought I was going to die," his eyes lock on mine and my gut twists when I see them.
"I sat right there, trembling! And right then and there, I needed you!" He points to the corner of the room, and my stomach sinks further down to the floor.
"But you looked me right in the eye, and you walked out of that door." He shakes his head, his eyes inducing guilt deep within me.
"In California, you trusted Harry over me, but I could forgive you for that, because you were so madly in love with him," he starts to explain. With each passing second, I'm beginning to realize how little I have concerned myself with his feelings about the situation I have dragged him into.
"But now... You chose to stand by someone else that you had known for five days, instead of me. You left me alone!" The words flood over me and painful chills flow over me as I swirl deeper down in the pit of guilt from hearing about the feelings I never thought about.
"I'm just starting to realize that I don't mean as much to you, as you do to me." He shrugs with a tear, and I feel a tear roll down mine too. I'm left speechless.
He is absolutely right, I have been a terrible friend.
"I'm so sorry," is all I'm able to push out of me, as a lump forms in my throat. He takes my hand and squeezes it, nodding.
"It's okay, I just have to go home," he painfully says, wiping his cheek with his other hand.
I could defend myself. I could try my hardest to convince him to stay, and explain why I did what I did. But looking into his eyes, I know.... He will be better off without me. A silence fills the room as we stare at each other for a few minutes, and I come to terms with what he says. I haven't been a good friend.
"When... are you leaving?" my voice feels thick, as the lump in my throat gnaws into me.
"I booked a flight 3 days from now," He says, and I process it, on top of the lunch with Niall, he fight with Harry, the kiss with Harry... I feel like my situation is slowly eating me alive.
"I'm so sorry Michael," I whimper, my heart hurting from realizing how badly I've really treated him, when he has done everything in his power for my wellbeing.
"Hey, It's okay. We're gonna have fun these next few days, and then I'm going home."
"I don't know how to do this without you," I shake my head, thinking about how Michael has really been the one thing that has made me feel like it's all going to be okay. And now, that I have to go through the rest of my recovery without him... It's scary.
"Claire, yes you do. You know deep within what is right for you, regardless of if you get your memories back, okay? Promise me that you'll remember that you are in charge of yourself, ok?"
"It's all up to you."
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A/N
Aw this was kinda sad:/
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