I stared at the message that was still showing on the screen of my phone with a shocked look on my face. Did it mean that Harry had killed someone? More specifically - his father? I didn't want to believe the text I'd just been sent, but then again, nobody would've ever accused of murder someone innocent. Was that why Harry never seemed to want to talk of his father? I knew he'd died, but he'd never told me how - I hadn't even thought I needed to know, until that moment.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm down the fast beating of my heart, trying to approach the issue in a more impersonal way, and bent down, lifting my phone off the floor and locking the screen to keep the message away from my view. It didn't make any sense. Or did it? I didn't think Harry would've been the kind of person to commit such an action, but then again, he was still a mystery to me.
I went into the kitchen and made myself a latte to try to get a hold of myself enough to think about it rationally, feeling as if it was getting harder to do so by the minute. I made it quickly, almost robotically, welcoming the opportunity to think of nothing for a few minutes. I carefully took the cup of latte and made my way upstairs, knowing that my mother would've been home soon and not feeling like talking to anybody in that moment.
When I entered my bedroom I put the warm cup on my desk, next to the by then completed drawing of Harry. I sighed, looking at it. It was probably one of the best ones I'd ever done. His back was turned to the camera and his head was slightly tilted to the side as he stared out of the window, the light coming from it accentuating the muscles and the two little dimples on his back, his hair somewhat messy on top of his head, covering a good part of his face from view. I glanced up and took the camera, turning it on and deleting the pictures I'd referenced to to free some space. As soon as the action was completed I put it down again, staring at it as my thoughts invaded my head again.
All of sudden my phone buzzed, and I almost jumped up. With my heart beating unnaturally quickly against my ribs, I unlocked the screen, the name on top of the screen not calming my anxiousness.
From Harry: Can I come over?
It was a quite harmless message, considering the one I'd received not even an hour before, but it wasn't as soothing as it was supposed to be.
I bit my lower lip, rereading it a couple of times, trying to understand what I wanted to reply. The anonymous text I'd received urged me to confront Harry about it, but then again, how could I have even touched such a topic? I wasn't bold or brave enough to ask him to explain, I knew that. I also knew, though, that I couldn't have pretended that nothing had happened at all. I was stuck, with no way out but one, that I'd never even thought I'd walk, with Harry out of all people, especially.
I clicked on the screen, feeling my thumbs shake a bit as I wrote my reply, unsettled by it.
To Harry: No
I sent it quickly, not wanting to give myself enough time to chicken out, and regretting it as soon as it was sent. I shook my head, writing another text quickly.
To Harry: I'm busy
I sent it equally as fast, nodding to myself and locking the screen again when I deemed it wasn't as rude as just the first one.
I crossed my legs on my chair and moved it closer to the table, picking up my cup and taking a sip out of it, staring at the white wall as I tried to come to terms with the situation and figure out my next move.
I widened my eyes and almost jumped back when my desk vibrated under my elbows, feeling the cup slip out of my hands before I could do anything to stop it. I grabbed my phone and lifted it up just in time not to have the latte spill on it, but as soon as I looked down I realised that my recently finished drawing hadn't had the same luck, and that the beige liquid had already penetrated the thin paper.
I hissed, tugging it from the corner to try to move it away from the wet spot on the desk, but stopping my actions right away when I noticed that the liquid had attached it to the wooden surface. I helplessly stared at it, watching as the latte spread through the paper, permanently ruining the drawing. I took the by then empty cup and put a paper tissue under it to make sure it wouldn't have dripped onto the floor, quickly taking it downstairs.
I entered the kitchen and washed the cup quickly, leaving it to dry next to the sink and going back upstairs, remembering just in that moment that I'd received a text. I took my phone, that I'd thrown on my bed at some point while I tried to save my drawing, and unlocked it, checking the text I'd just got.
From Harry: Is there something wrong?
I stared at it. I couldn't possibly tell him what was going on, it would've just created an even bigger mess. But I also couldn't pretend there was nothing wrong, he would've certainly noticed, and I knew he hated being lied to. That would've made things impossibly worse.
I sighed and typed in a reply quickly, hoping that it would've been enough to get him to stop asking about it.
To Harry: I just don't feel like talking
I sent it and locked the screen, but the reply came before I could put the phone down. I turned the screen up, reading the text from the notification.
From Harry: Ok.
I put the phone down and sat on my chair again, staring at the destroyed drawing. I sat there and stared as the latte spread through it, quickly dampening it and ruining it beyond repair, not finding it in myself to do anything but stare at the mess I'd inadvertently made.
• • •
When I arrived at school the next day, I realised that avoiding Harry wouldn't have been nearly as easy as I thought it would've been.
I felt his eyes on me in the second I stepped in front of the building, making me want to cover away in some dark corner that didn't even exist. Gripping the strap of my bag, I looked up, discovering that Harry really was looking at me from where he was sitting on his usual bench, alone. I looked away instantly, deciding to go lean against the short wall instead, positioning myself so that my back wasn't to him, wanting to keep an eye on him not to risk him walking to me without me knowing.
After a few minutes, seeming to realise that I had no intention of going to talk to him, he stood up and started to make his way towards me, his black coat pulled close against his chest. I stayed where I was for a couple of seconds, hoping that the crowd of people would've been enough to keep him from reaching me, but being proven wrong when I realised that everyone seemed to be moving out of his way quite quickly.
I widened my eyes, getting a hold of my bag, that I'd put on the floor, and walking up the couple of steps that separated me from the entrance of the building, pulling the glass door open and walking inside quickly, taking a sudden turn to my right and seeing my chance to escape in the door to the girls' toilet. I quickly pushed it open and slid inside, closing it behind me and leaning against one of the sinks, instinctively holding my breath for some seconds.
After a few minutes I checked the time, and I realised that my first class would've started soon. I sighed, opening my coat and putting the strap of my bag over my shoulder again before opening the door and cautiously glancing around, making sure that Harry was nowhere close before exiting and making my way towards the crowd of people as quickly as I could.
When I finally entered my maths class, I felt like my heart could've jumped out of my chest at any moment. I quickly walked towards my desk, being immensely glad that the one next to me was still empty, and I put the bag down on the floor next to it, taking off my coat and putting it on the back of my chair before leaning down to take my notebook out. I stood up again, notebook in my hand, and I froze in my spot when I realised that Harry had reached me while I was distracted, and was now standing in front of me.
I slowly raised my head, taking in the light blue of the sweater he was wearing. It looked extremely cute on him, the shade light enough to match his irises, but different enough to make their green pop out, and I felt the sudden need to hug him to find out if it really was as soft as it looked like. Harry was looking at me with a somewhat confused look in his eyes, his eyebrows curved in a slight frown that made my heart leap for a quick second. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the unhelpful thoughts, knowing that they were nothing else but damaging in that moment.
"What happened?" He asked me, the tone of his voice low and the words almost whispered, but firm as always. It was clear that he had no idea of what the issue was - obviously, and I would've felt bad for him if I wasn't already more concerned about my mental sanity in the whole situation.
I shifted my gaze to the whiteboard, that was behind him, not being able to stand his gaze, knowing that if I'd looked into his eyes I would've ended up telling him everything that was going on, which would've been a disaster. I just needed more time to understand how to address the whole thing, time that I didn't have. "Can you leave me alone please?" I ended up whispering back, feeling like it was the closest thing to the way I was feeling in that moment.
He frowned. "Why?" He asked me, confusion evident in his voice. It was weird to think that just twenty-four hours before we'd decided to ditch together. I just felt so detached from him in that moment.
I just needed more time. I needed him to give me more time. I didn't want to end up fucking everything up just because I hadn't managed to understand how I should've acted in the small time he'd given me. "Please leave me alone, Harry" I said again, the second time a bit more firmly, hoping that he would understand and go away.
But Harry had never had any issue in picking up hints, and if he didn't move a muscle it was just because he'd realised I didn't want to talk to him, and had decided that he didn't want to listen.
I sighed, looking down under is somewhat serious stare. It was clear that he hated everything that was going on, and I did too, but I couldn't keep it from happening. Maybe a bit of distance would've been the best thing for me to figure out what to do next. "Please" I repeated, wishing that he would just let it go.
"Leave her alone, she clearly doesn't want to talk to you" someone said next to me all of sudden and I looked up, realising that Aiden was standing next to me. I felt a hint of annoyance wash through me at his interference, I didn't need his help. More like, I didn't want to need his help.
"Can you stop trying to come onto my girlfriend?" Harry told him, the tone of his voice low, but somewhat threatening, making my head turn towards him so fast that my neck hurt.
There was no way he'd just said that. Why had he said that? I wasn't his girlfriend - he'd never asked me. Did it mean that he wanted me to be his girlfriend, or that he'd just said it to get Aiden to leave? Knowing him, I was quite sure it was the second. It was weird to think that the word girlfriend had just left his lips, considering that just a few days before he'd pushed me away after I'd told him I liked him. It annoyed me to know that he didn't mean the word in the way it should've been meant, but as a simple instrument he could've used to claim me in order to make someone else step away. I didn't want him to call me his girlfriend for that reason, it was just wrong. "I'm not your girlfriend, Harry" I said, looking up at him and taking in the way his jaw clenched, his frown becoming deeper.
Aiden took it as his chance to reply. "Well, it looks like she doesn't agree with it. Just leave her alone" he said, giving the boy in front of him a winning stare.
"Remind me again what is your relevancy in this conversation?" Harry snapped at him, seeming completely done with his bullshit. Normally I would've found it funny, but the way he addressed him didn't sit well with me, considering that he'd kind of come to my aid.
"Stop being rude to him, Harry. He hasn't done anything" I said quickly, surprising both Aiden and Harry.
Harry gave me a somewhat shocked glance, for the first time seeming to have lost his usual cool, and he opened his mouth to reply, but was roughly interrupted by someone behind him.
"Sort your issues outside of you must, my class is starting now."
I looked behind him and so did he, the both of us realising that our maths teacher had entered the room sometime while we were arguing, and was now giving us a venomous glance from where he was sitting.
I briefly considered going to sit down and ending the conversation there, but once glance to Harry told me that if we hadn't finished talking in that moment he would've never left my desk, so I sighed and walked past Aiden, making my way out of the room, hearing the sound of Harry's steps behind me.
I turned around once we were in the corridor, watching as Harry closed the door of the classroom behind himself.
He glanced up, noticing that my eyes were on him. "I didn't mean it in that way" he said, a somewhat defensive look in his eyes while he fumbled with the hem of the sleeve of his light blue sweater.
I looked away, feeling as if I could've started crying if I'd looked at him for too long. I was a nervous crier, I'd always been, and he didn't need to know that. "Of course" I reply, the hint of sarcasm in my voice stronger than I'd expected.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked me, picking up on it quickly, a confused look in his light green eyes, but a hint of aggressiveness hidden in his voice.
I shook my head, looking away to the side before replying. "You never do, do you?" I said, trying my best to ignore the accusation in my tone.
"What?" He asked, as if he truly couldn't believe that that conversation was taking place. To be honest, neither could I.
I shook my head again, blinking fast to get rid of the wetness I was starting to feel in my eyes. I looked at him again, even in that situation he still managed to look like an angel, the beauty of his features almost a contrast to the way I was feeling. "Tell me something, Harry. Do you actually care about this?" I asked him, watching as his frown deepened, a somewhat angered look finding its way into his face. I couldn't help but question him, all the times he'd refused to talk to me and the texts I'd received bottled up in a ball of resentment, only fuelled by the annoyance I felt in that moment. "Because it doesn't really feel like you do"
"Are you really accusing me of not caring after not having been there for me when I argued with Niall yesterday?" He hissed back at me, and I felt a pang in my chest. I hadn't thought of the possibility of him wanting to come to mine after having argued with him again, but thinking about it, it kind of made sense. Why else he would've asked me if he could come to mine just an hour after we'd last seen each other?
"Stop trying to guilt-trip me, Harry" I replied, not wanting to allow myself to feel regret, knowing that it would've made everything even more confusing. I sighed, looking away. "I'm just tired" I whispered, more to myself than him, realising how true it was only when I said it. I was exhausted, I truly was. Ever since he'd come into my life, everything had become more stressful and confusing, and the issue was that I wasn't even sure it would've been worth it in the end.
"What?" He said, more of a statement than a question, a look I couldn't quite understand in his eyes.
"I said I'm tired" I said, a bit louder the second time around. "This... it just doesn't feel real. Every time I'm with you I feel like I'm living some kind of dream" I explained, furrowing my eyebrows as I thought of the meaning behind all of that. Dreaming every once in a while is good, but dreams have no place in reality, for they're in fact just dreams. How could I keep lingering in the rush and happiness that being with him made me feel, when I perfectly knew everything was too ephemeral for there to be a future? "I'm quite sure this isn't how it's supposed to be."
He furrowed his eyebrows, looking as if he just couldn't even follow my reasoning anymore. "What's wrong with that?" He asked. It didn't surprise me, if I had to be honest. Everything to him was like that, quick instances with no real meaning behind it, so it was kind of obvious that he couldn't see where the issue was.
"See? You don't even see the issue!" I replied quickly. "Everything is so ethereal to you Harry, and that's just not how I am. I care, I fall and I get hurt. I can't keep up with you" I said, starting to feel wetness in my eyes again, but blinking it away fast. "Honestly, I'm not sure I even want to anymore. I don't want to care about you more than I already do because I know I'll end up being hurt."
He pursed his lips, seeming to think of what I'd just told him. "That isn't true" he said in the end, making me feel as if I could've screamed out of stress.
"But it is" I said, trying to make him truly understand what I was telling him. "We're too different. This wasn't supposed to happen."
"But it did" he replied, stressing me out even more. Why couldn't he just see it in the same way I did? Why did he have to keep telling yourself that it was worth it, when it truly wasn't?
I shook my head. "It was a mistake."
He shot me a suspicious glance, seeming to have just thought of something else. "Where's this coming from?" He asked, taking a step towards me, making my eyes widen.
I couldn't tell him what had truly started the mess we'd just fallen into. To be honest, I wasn't even sure it mattered anymore. "Just... don't" I replied, instinctively taking a step back to put more distance between us. "Just leave me alone from now on, please" I added, walking past him.
"Do you like Aiden?" He said all of sudden, and I stopped in my tracks, my hand still on the door handle.
I turned my head to look at him, noticing that he was turned towards me, a suspicious glance in his green irises. "Excuse me?" I muttered out, not believing he'd really just asked me something like that. How had he even come to that conclusion? It was just ridiculous to think about, and I felt slightly aggravated by the fact that he'd implied that the only reason why I could have ever decided I didn't want him was because I liked somebody else.
"You heard what I said" he simply replied, a sharp look in his green eyes, and for a second I wasn't sure whether I want to slap him or kiss him. I'd never been a particularly passionate or violent person, and I couldn't quite explain where that side of me was coming from.
"What the fuck?" I hissed at him, reacting more forcefully than I ever had to the idiotic supposition. "You know what, I'm leaving" I added, deciding in that instant that I didn't want anything to do with that conversation anymore. I lowered the handle and opened the door, walking inside the classroom and going to sit at my desk in the most complete silence of everyone, leaving the door open for Harry.
"What happened?" Ella asked me as soon as I sat down next to her, but I just shook my head, letting her know that I didn't want to talk about it, and she gave me a little nod, surprisingly understanding me.
The reality of what had just happened only struck me then, and I found myself staring at my desk as the teacher spoke monotonously in the background, replaying the argument in my head over and over again, not paying attention to a single word that was being said. I couldn't help but raise my head to give Harry a quick glance from the opposite side of the room. Was that truly the end of it? It was weird to think about, and deeply upsetting at the same time, even though I was sure it was the right thing. Sitting there in that moment, I couldn't help but wonder what the point of the whole thing had been.
The class went by in a blur, and before I knew it the bell had rang, notifying us that it had ended.
I stood up and gathered my things, quickly making my way to the cafeteria, hating that it was too cold for me to go outside. I entered it and sat at a table, where I was joined by Ella soon after. I pulled out my usual notepad to avoid making any kind of conversation, opening it and flicking through it just to realise that I was on the last page.
I sighed, taking the pencil out of my coat and starting to sketch something easy, a butterfly, to get my mind off things. I often enjoyed to draw things that I knew how to draw without needing a picture for reference, I found it very relaxing. I wished I'd brought my earphones with me on that day, because if I had, I probably wouldn't have noticed the events that took place soon after.
I was shading my sketch when I suddenly heard someone talk quite loudly. It wasn't loud enough for me to understand what was being said, but it certainly wasn't quiet enough to go unnoticed. I looked up, wondering who was being that loud, frowning instantly when I saw that Harry was sitting at one of the tables a bit far away from me, almost alone. Janette, that must had approached him while I was distracted, was talking to him cheerfully, leaning against the table. She let out a chuckle at something she'd said and pulled out a chair, sitting down next to him, quietly telling him something, her hand on his forearm. He turned to look at her and, before I could understand what was going on, her lips landed on his.
I felt my heart hurt and shut the notepad, leaving the pencil inside, and took my coat and bag, fleeing from the room and leaning against the wall as soon as I was out of the door.
I took a deep breath and detached my back from the wall, putting on my coat to protect myself from the cold air of the hallway, blinking away the wetness in my eyes. I wouldn't have given him a chance to see me cry.
I heard the sudden sound of steps, and I looked up, discovering that Harry himself had just rushed out of the cafeteria, and was now standing about ten feet away from me.
He seemed to want to say something, but I shook my head, stopping him before he could even start. "Don't talk to me ever again. I'm done" I said lowly, but firmly.
I stared at him for a few seconds after I'd spoken, and he stared back at me. Then, as if my words meant nothing, he turned around and went away, leaving me alone in the corridor.
Here is the new chapter! I hope you enjoyed it x
Miki