I stay in the bedroom to calm myself down before going to confront Harry. I can hear him in the kitchen, moving dishes and opening the refrigerator door. All very loudly. I sigh and start walking to the kitchen.
If I could be less nervous, this would all be so much easier. I've already gotten rid of the stubborn part of me. I plan on going into this begging on my knees if I have to. But since he is being so unapproachable, I can't calm the fuck down and act normal.
I walk down the hallway on my toes, attempting to see him before he sees me. When I do see him, his head is buried in the refrigerator.
I sneak into the living room before he can look and I lean on the back of couch.
I am seriously wondering what he is doing in the kitchen that is making so much noise. Before, I was thinking that he was breaking things, but I know Harry isn't about making a fuss like that. He laughs at the people who do that.
I watch him in the kitchen quietly. He has a bowl and a box of cereal on the counter, and he's getting milk from the fridge. Cereal. Okay.
He comes out of the fridge and slams its door again, and I jump. His eyes dart over to me as he notices me. I tense up.
He stares at me for a second, looking like he is deciding if I'm important or not, and then just as quick, goes back to making his cereal.
Goddammit Harry, are you really doing this?
I wanted him to be at least responsive. I don't even care that he is mad, I expected it. But he wanted to know how I felt about Zayn, so I went and talked and figured it out and now I'm here to tell him. Can't he act like he wants to know? Because in reality, he does.
I stand up and clear my throat. "Harry," I say.
He continues making his cereal, pouring in the milk and then putting the carton back into the refrigerator. He does not say or do anything in response to me.
I want to cry a lot. He isn't even giving me a chance. How do I get him to talk to me? To see me? If I just get in his face, he'll be even more pissed, but I can't sit here and let him act like I don't exist.
As he starts to walk out of the kitchen and I realize he is going back to bed, I know I have to move quickly. I can't be cautious anymore. I jog to him. I reach out to his arm to stop him. "I talked to Zayn and-"
He glares at me, and then lowers his eyes to my outstretched hand. I glance down at it with him. Fuck Harry, are you serious? I meet his eyes again, which are refusing to back down. I slowly bring my arm back down to my side and retreat to the seat on the couch.
"And we decided on some things," I say. Beg on your knees, if you have to, I tell myself.
He backs up a bit and decides to rest on the wall and eat his cereal. He says nothing, but even his silence comes off bitterly. Regardless, I sigh, thankful that he is stopping to hear me out.
He looks at me with expectant eyes. He wants me to say something that I don't know how to say, so I start from the beginning, being as vague as possible.
"We talked about the kiss, and everything that had to do with it."
I watch him roll his eyes. "Yes, I understand that. Now tell me what happened. What did you decide?" He asks.
I don't know if I should be happy that he answered me or not. On the one hand, we are at least conversing now. But on the other hand, God, it came off so angry.
What did we decide, he asked me. I don't want him to get any wrong ideas of what happened. Because what did occur does not reflect how I feel about Zayn now, or how it will be between us anymore.
I shake my head. "It's over."
He cocks his head and stares at me for a couple of seconds in dead silence.
He scans my face for any sign of dishonesty. My heart pounds against my chest, thudding through my entire body and probably the whole room. It's quiet enough after what I just said for even the smallest noise to be noticeable.
It's not a lie, I have to tell myself. I am sure he is going to note my nervous state and begin to think I am lying, when I'm not. Not really.
"It is? Just like that?" he asks.
I nod. "I'm sure. I can't even stand to look at him anymore, and he knows he can't be with me."
He stares. I stare back. We stare.
"I don't believe you," he says. He gets up off the wall and starts to walk to the bedroom. I walk after him.
I'm not giving this up now. I've gone through a lot to get him to forgive me and I am making it happen.
"What do you need to hear?" I ask, quite fed up with his silence. In truth, I know it is so hypocritical to be mad at him, so I'm not really mad. I just want this so badly that it's frustrating me that he isn't acting how I want.
He sharply turns, ending up quite near my face. His voice sounds like hissing. "It's not just what I need to hear, it's just-"
His foot is tapping against the wall. It distracts both of us. He sighs and looks down at them, and so do I. He furrows his brow and I know he is thinking. He always acts quieter when he thinks. It softens the look of anger and turns around all of the bitchiness he had before. He brings his head up slowly and with a much softer voice, he continues, "How can I trust you?"
He's quiet. "Everything you say, I have to doubt." He sighs. "You've lied to me so much in the past few weeks, and even before then you didn't tell me about high school."
His voice is dead. His eyes are dead. The entire room is dead. Nothing is alive right now. "Do you get it? I want to trust you. I just can't believe anything from your mouth anymore."
I get it. I look at Harry and see someone actually hurt. It doesn't matter how many excuses I give, or any truths I tell or however many times I apologize. He doesn't know if he can believe it, and that's what makes this all so hard for him. I don't want to hurt him anymore. But it's hard to fix something broken like this, and now I can feel it for real. But I really want to put in the effort to fix it. No more excuses. No more lies. I want us together and I want us real. "What do I need to do to prove it's over?" I ask him.
He grimaces. "Don't say that."
"What?"
"I don't want you to prove to me it's over." He frowns. "Why should you have to prove it? I want to trust you."
I look away. He's right. That's what a relationship is supposed to be built on, and if I want this to work, he needs to be able to trust me.
"Can I trust you?"
His voice surprises me. I didn't expect him to mean it right now. I lift my head up and meet his eyes staring into mine. Every lie I've told Harry and every time I've held the truth from him comes to mind. Can he trust me? Have I changed at all?
"Yes," I say quietly. Carefully I decide my next words while Harry eagerly anticipates them. I look into his eyes, and with as much truth as I can form, I say, "Zayn and I are over."
After saying those five simple words, Harry looks away from me, and I from him. I don't know if he believes me. I am being honest, but it is laced with so much doubt that I would be surprised if he did. I glance up at the poor boy who is searching the floor for somewhere to look, playing with the spoon in the bowl of soggy cereal he is still holding.
I hurt him a lot. A sincere apology comes to me, for all that I put him through. "Harry," I say. He flinches up at his name. "I'm sorry. I hope it's obvious. I'm really really sorry."
He smiles and his body hitches from a small laugh. "You know that's only the second time you've said that to me."
Two questions instantly start to repeat in my mind.
One: He's counting?
Two: I've only apologized twice?
One: He isn't counting. Apparently I've only said I am sorry once before, and that's not a hard number to remember.
Two: I've always thought words meant nothing to Harry, it was about the actions. I wanted to prove to him I am sorry by talking to Zayn.
That turned out well.
Regardless, I should've said something more yesterday when we were talking in the car. It must have felt terrible to just hear me make excuses and to not apologize in the first place.
"I didn't," I say. He shrugs it off. "You know I'm sorry."
I touch his shoulder. He tenses, and I'm scared that I pushed it too far by assuming that. He doesn't look at me, so I begin to drop my hand. But he grasps it with his own, keeping it on his shoulder and wrapping it in his own warmth.
"I do," rolls off of his tongue, almost as casual as him talking to me late at night.
Happiness spreads in my body as I hear the positive words. I want to smile, but I'm scared to. Instead, I lean against the wall with him and sit in almost silence. I close my eyes and breathe, praying that all the bad is finally over.
I feel fingers finding mine between our bodies. I furrow my brow.
"I forgive you," he says. My eyes dart open and search for Harry's immediately. He is looking in mine already, and by the time mine find his, he drops a small smile, probably laughing at the surprise on my face.
I start to slide down the wall and sit against it on the ground. Harry follows me, still holding my hand.
I have questions for him, since the whole forgiving thing happened so quickly. "What's going to happen now?" I ask. "With Zayn and all of our friends?"
"You can guess."
I can guess. Zayn and Harry will never talk again. Or for awhile, and it will be awkward once they do again. Louis will hate me, and probably Eleanor too. Niall will be stuck between friends, if he ever comes to visit from Ireland, that is. And everyone else will be caught in the middle and choosing sides and favorites. In other words, it only gets worse from here. I pull my hand away while Harry fights to keep it in his. "I'm sorry, Harry."
"For what now?"
"He was one of your best friends." I can hear him say 'oh'. He doesn't try to take my hand back anymore. I stand up and start to pace."You know how different this will make us all?"
He puts his bowl of cereal on the ground and gets up after me. I begin to walk to the kitchen, and he takes me by my waist and turns me around, pulling me close to him. His hands are on my hips; he puts his forehead on mine and looks in my eyes. "Jess, calm down. Forget it. Let's forget it. I forgave you, isn't that enough?" I think he realizes that his words don't change my mind because he smiles and then elaborates. "Things change. That's what they're supposed to do."
He takes me into his arms, wrapping me in a warm, soft, undeserved Harry hug. "But I am the one who changed it," I say into his shoulder.
"Shut up," he whispers, and I smile.
I stand still, trying to make sure he won't let go of me. This is the first time he has shown me this much affection in a while, and I am not about to ruin that. I need this from him right now. I need to feel secure, and I think he realizes that. I don't even hug him back. I just let his body encompass me and try to absorb all of him that I can. He sighs heavily and kisses my forehead, bringing me to a small smile.
Having him for real like this makes everything seem easier to deal with. The fact that he forgives me gives me the best feeling I've had in a long time. I grin, hoping that he can't see it. I think he sees it.
"I'm still pissed off at you for lying to me," he says into my ear, with less seriousness than he had before, but still with some measure of it.
"I know." I say it with undertones of joy slipping through my voice that I hope Harry doesn't catch.
He totally catches it.
"I'm really pissed," he emphasizes again, probably trying to make me act serious again.
"Yeah." I want to be serious and seriously listen to him, but now I can feel that everything will be alright, and I cannot stop being happy. I am literally bouncing. He unwraps his arms from around me and holds my arms still, looking me straight in the eyes like I am crazy and he doesn't understand why.
"And don't expect everything to be one hundred percent the same from now on."
"I'm not," I say with a grin. My giddy response makes him chuckle. He slowly drops his hands down my wiggling arms, and picks up his bowl from the ground.
I laugh from pure nerves. That changed so quickly. The one moment, he was hostile. Then depressed. Now he's smiling. I guess that's just our relationship, though. We hate being mad at each other, and we are both horribly silly people. We can turn anything into something to laugh about. Although I have to say that I never want to have to experience any of today ever again, and I hope I never will.
I begin to speed walk to the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" I hear him shout as I leave. He takes two anxious steps forward, wondering why I am leaving.
Is it bad that I love hearing him miss me? Because I love it. I love seeing how his eyes widen and how a small frown develops because he sees me walking away. How he moves after me, ready to follow in case I am deciding to leave. I love how he rushes out a question to keep me around him even a second longer.
"Getting something to eat. Do you want anything?"
He relaxes and smiles down at his bowl of cereal. "No, I'm okay."
I bounce down the hallway with the largest smile I have had on my face in weeks. Harry and I are back together.
When I reach the kitchen, I stop and pull out my phone, because although everything sounds alright, I need this insurance.
To Zayn:
I'm done. Don't try to end Harry and me again, and you know exactly what I mean. Just stay away from me. We're over.