h.
"When's Poppy back?"
I froze as I heard Liam's voice, my hand halfway to getting another beer from the fridge, my heart hammering in my chest before I remembered who the fuck I was and grabbed it without a second thought.
"Her flights at like midday New York time so she'll land midnight tomorrow." Niall explained and I swallowed.
I didn't know she was coming home so soon.
Why did I care?
"Oh my god, why is she getting here so late?" Eleanor asked just as I headed back towards the door. "It doesn't matter, I can't wait to se-"
"Shut up." Niall snapped the moment I stepped over the threshold and I rolled my eyes as the room went silent as I took my seat next to him.
"Oi thanks for getting me one then, ya prick." Louis glared at me from his seat opposite the tv and I rolled my eyes.
"It's your house you knob."
Zayn snorted as he started another game of FIFA and the atmosphere went back to how it was when I left to get another drink.
I didn't know why they were all so precious, it wasn't like I heard her name and suddenly broke into floods of tears. In fact when had I ever done that over anybody?
Let alone some girl.
I blinked as Amelia smiled at me, her lips which had been slowly increasing in size over the past few months and just looked weird now. But I couldn't deny that they did feel good against my dick. My lips twitched as I swallowed a mouthful of beer before looking away from her.
She was getting annoying.
I mean she'd always been annoying but I was able to put up with it. It hadn't bothered me when we first hooked up again sometime last year, she was certainly happy about it too.
I honestly couldn't remember a time when Amelia didn't have some crush on me.
But this past month, fuck. I dunno what happened but she'd just suddenly become fucking irritating and to the point that it made me snap at her.
I shook my head as I didn't dwell on my thoughts of her and her weirdly fat lips, we'd not even hooked up in over a month anyway. I didn't know why.
Poppy.
That's why.
My fist tightened around the bottle I was holding as my own brain betrayed me and I squeezed my eyes shut hoping that no one would notice how much of a freak I was being. That wasn't the reason.
She definitely wasn't the reason.
And I definitely didn't miss her so much that it hurt to breathe.
I clenched my jaw as I shook my head again, get a fucking grip. My eyes glancing at Niall who was busy on his phone, his finger swiping down through a variety of pictures until one caught my eye and I almost asked him to stop before I caught myself.
Luckily for me though Niall scrolled back up to the image and I felt my chest collapse, I would know that smile anywhere.
Niall clicked on the name, my eyes glued to his phone screen as the words Poppy Carmichael came up at the top and three sets of numbers underneath it and I was too engrossed to care if he knew I was watching.
What was this? And why had Niall never told me he had a whole collection of pictures from her on tap?
I chewed my lip as he clicked on the first picture again, the square appearing with three girls and bloke in it and I squinted, who the fuck was that?
"D'ya wanna back up mate?"
I blinked as I realised Niall spoke and I flinched as I noticed how close our faces were and I felt my body tense as he eyed me with an amused tilt to his lips.
He knew.
"Harry you really don't have a good grasp of personal space." Eleanor piped up and I bit my tongue at the look thrown towards me from Louis.
"I don't mind." Amelia smiled, her eyes still flicking over my body.
"Nobody cares what you think Amelia." I muttered as Zayn laughed before I drained my bottle and stood up. "M'going home."
"Already? I thought we were going to play!" Zayn moaned and I glanced at the screen to see his team absolutely thrashing Louis' and I smirked.
"Another time yeh'."
Zayn rolled his eyes but nodded as I clapped Niall on the shoulder and nodded at everyone else, my eyes barely straying to Amelia even though we'd arrived together.
She could make her own way home.
I dropped my few empty bottles into the recycling bin before I let myself out into the night and I sucked in a large breath of warm air. I hated the summer.
My fingers tapped along the steering wheel as a Hozier song played quietly through the speakers as I sat at a red light. I'd gotten better, I actually waited for these things now.
For a while I used to run every red light I came up too, I'd also had several tickets because of it but I couldn't help it.
For six months it was the only thing that made me feel alive again, and it also didn't matter that I didn't give a shit if I lived or I died.
Without thinking I turned right instead of driving straight on, the manoeuvre would have been impulsive if I hadn't been doing it periodically for the past year or so.
I barely had to look at where I was going; I knew these streets like the back of my hand. This area of London had been so foreign to me, and now I could drive them like it was nothing, I knew the turns and the corners; I knew for a fact there was always an old person crossing at the corner of Ainger road.
I turned the car off as I parked just past the house, my fingers already itching to find the key as I slipped through the gate and crunched across the gravel and I let myself inside.
The light suddenly illuminated the scene before me which, again, I knew with my eyes closed. The only difference now and it hadn't changed in the past two years was that I was here alone.
And the big white sheets covering the furniture that creeped me the fuck out. It was like there were ghosts in her house.
I toed my shoes off by the door before heading into the kitchen, turning the lights on as I went and I turned the kettle on immediately.
The first time I'd done this, I'd not touched a single thing, I had just gone straight to her room and laid in her bed.
The second time I was here, I made the mistake of looking at her belongings. Or at least what she hadn't taken with her.
It was the third time I was here when I noticed the blue box just sitting alone on her makeup desk thing. It was just there, alone, empty spaces all around it and I had cried.
I had cried for the first time since I was sixteen, I had cried for the first time over a girl. I had cried for the first time over Poppy.
Then I took it.
I blew on the hot tea before I raised it to my lips and took a long sip, the white mug still holding the golden P on the side as I headed towards the stairs.
When I'd first started this I didn't really know what I was doing, I just knew I had a key, she had an empty house and all my best memories of her were there.
The little blue box was right where I'd left it, although it was only me who knew it was empty now.
The white sheet was still over her bed where I'd replaced it. I always moved it, but I didn't sleep here anymore. I wasn't that creepy but I still sat on it and when I did, I liked to make sure I wasn't sitting on a weird ghost.
If I sat long enough, quiet enough, I could still see her in here with me.
Her hair sitting just above her shoulders as it held a slight curl in it from where it'd just been washed and her pink cheeks as I told her it looked nice, her laying in bed the next morning with her eyes still closed as she held on tight to me.
I didn't even think she knew she did it but she had always done it, from the very first time we'd slept in the same bed, that night I'd seen Oliver, the cunt, leaving her room.
She clung to me like she was afraid I'd disappear.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I shook my head before I took a large mouthful of tea and put the mug down on her desk. My eyes finding the framed photo of us from the aquarium, this was the first time in the entire time I'd been coming here that I looked at it.
A thick layer of dust coated the glass and I rubbed it away so I could see her face. The way she was grinning at the camera, my own face slightly obscured as I looked at her and even though I was smiling I hated it.
I hated myself so much for being like that to her, I was so horrible for so long to her and for what?
Because I was too much of a cunt to just let her be nice, to let her be happy. I should have been nicer to her from the first time we met and then maybe I would have had her for longer.
I picked up one of the polaroids that had been tucked into the frame, it having fallen as I picked it up. It was from France. It was the two of us and I felt the lump come back.
I wonder if she thought of me.
I wonder if she thought of me when she was in France now, I hoped she didn't.
That was her favourite place on earth and I had fucking left her there, it was somewhere she held close to her heart because she remembered being there with her fucking Mother and I had just decided to be a cunt.
To be a cunt and leave her all alone in the middle of the night because I thought it would hurt less if I left without her knowing.
Without thinking, but then again when did I ever, I texted Niall asking about what I'd seen earlier.
What were you looking at earlier?
Niall Horan 7:29pm: Eh?
The picture with Poppy.
Niall Horan 7:30pm: Oh.
I ground my jaw as Niall said nothing else and I looked at my phone in disbelief, was he having a fucking laugh?
Niall Horan 7:31pm: Poppy's instagram. Why?
I want to look at it.
Niall Horan 7:32pm: Why?
I blinked as I looked at the three letters, why did I?
My fingers hovered over the screen as I debated whether or not I should tell him it was because I missed her so much it made me scream. It was because the pictures I had on my phone were almost two years old now.
In the end, I didn't have to say anything, Niall texted me once more with just a link, instagram.com/poppycarmichael.
And I clicked on it, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as the webpage loaded and I read the username again, poppycarmichael.
She had a hundred and forty-two photos, two thousand and seventy-five followers but she only followed a hundred and six.
I licked my lips as I let my eyes drop down to the last set of words, my eyes flicking to the small round picture of her, a photo of her obviously taken in a mirror considering she was holding her phone up.
Poppy.
are we out of the woods yet?
The fuck did that mean?
I shook it off as I scrolled down to the square images, the one I'd seen at Louis' was the first one and I pressed it, only to have the image open up again but bigger this time and my heart squeezed at the sight of her smiling as she looked at the camera.
A blonde girl was practically hanging off her arm on one side and on the other there were two brunettes, another girl and that bloke but they seemed close. My eyes read the caption quickly, kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats, the fuck did that mean?
I pressed the little arrow to find a photo of a bunch of flowers and I swallowed thickly as I exited out and instead just scrolled through the whole collection. Of course, she had someone else giving her flowers.
I frowned as I saw an image of a polaroid of what looked like Central Park or what I could remember of it and I clicked on it, the image showing a photo of a photo of one of the bridges in Central Park and I recognised the writing scribbled on the bottom of the polaroid.
missing you in central park
I clicked through more photos of flowers, photos of the city at night, to my disappointment there were only a few photos of her and they were mostly with the blonde girl. The other two were in a lot of them too.
There was one with Max which made me roll my eyes until I found another image of a polaroid and I raised an eyebrow.
missing you in soho
I scrolled until I hit one that was another bunch of flowers and I rolled my eyes as I saw it was posted on Valentines Day, the caption annoying me more than anything, wish you were right here, right now.
I had to grind my teeth as I moved on and saw she posted a photo on the first of February this year that was a picture of her.
I had just been wanting to see more photos of her and she'd posted one on my birthday and now I was mad?
I couldn't tear my eyes away from it, she was sat in a window and the view was the New York City skyline, she was wearing a big black fur coat, a pair of sunglasses and a pair of black boots that made her legs look as skinny as ever.
In fact, she looked smaller in all of the few photos she posted.
My eyes flicked over the caption, all you had to do was stay. and I frowned, was she dating someone else?
It wasn't like she wouldn't have blokes falling over themselves to get near her, and all those flowers had to mean someone was buying them for her.
I finished my mug as I glanced at the time on my phone, flicking away her Instagram without a second thought. I was going to drive myself crazy.
The lock screen now a standard apple issued wallpaper staring back at me.
It had been her for so long.
But it hurt every time I saw it and it reminded me of how fucking stupid I was and so I had to change it, in fact, I changed it the day she started at her new university in New York.
I knew that for a fact.
I'd seen a message from her on Niall's phone, she'd been nervous. She'd been sad and she told him she still missed me.
I had changed my lock screen from a picture of her I'd taken on my birthday to a plain black photo.
I gave her room one last look over, I should really be getting home to feed Gatsby. His dinner was already two hours late, he would be mad.
I washed my mug up quickly and dried it in the towel before carefully putting it back in the drawer and I turned all the lights back out, the house plunging back into darkness as I pulled my boots on and I refrained from looking over my shoulder one last time.
The air seemed colder the minute I stepped out and I sighed, this was the last time I was going to be able to do this.
This was the last time I was going to be able to stand on her porch and replay the memories I had of her in my car in the driveway, of her smiling at me as I waited for her to get to the door.
I had to go home and I had to leave because this wasn't my house, no matter how much I loved the girl who lived here.
This was the last time I'd be able to walk around the house and remember how happy she made me.
Because finally, after almost two years, two years that included me drinking heavily and fucking girls who looked like her.
Poppy was coming home.