Eighteen {Harry styles fanfiction}

chapter 3

Author's Note: so far the whole story has really been about how Lydia is seeing things, so I decided to write this next part from Harry's point of view. hope you enjoy.
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*HARRYS POV*
By now the movie was coming close to an end. I gazed down at Lydia, who hadn't moved from her place since the movie started. Her head rested below my chin, just above my heart. She was sleeping peacefully. It wasn't that late in the evening, but I could tell she was really tired and I didn't want to wake her. I couldn't help but keep my eyes glued on her, completely forgetting about watching the movie.

Her beauty distracted me.

Her long, curly, golden brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She was wearing a plain t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants, but she looked more beautiful now-like this- than a model in expensive clothes who had spent hours in hair and makeup, in my opinion. Lydia wasn't wearing any makeup at all today. She hardly ever did. But that was one of my favorite things about her. She looked most beautiful like this. Her beauty was naturally captivating; captivating like art.

Just friends.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Slowly and carefully, I removed one of my hand from around Lydia's body. My phone was flooded with at least a dozen text messages from Charlene, all reading along the lines of

Hey babe ;)

We should go out tomorrow night:*

Baaaaabe answer meeee!!!!!

I ignored all the messages. It felt wrong ignoring her like that; I felt pretty guilty. Charlene was my girlfriend.

But it felt right here with Lydia, drowning under layers of blankets, holding onto each other to stay afloat.

Just friends.

The credits were now playing on the tv screen. I focused, again, my attention on Lydia as she slept, slowly letting short, soft breaths escape her lips. As she slept she looked delicate, fragile, beautiful.

Just friends.

I pulled out my phone again to text my mum.

Staying at Lydia's tonight... love you x

After the message sent I put my phone away and closed my eyes. I remembered a cold, stormy, Valentine's promise.

Best friends forever?

Forever and ever.

Just friends.

It sounded right, but deeper than sound it felt all wrong. I was confused.

Here I am at 18, confusion eating away at my mind because Charlene was somewhere thinking about going out tomorrow night, while I lay here with my best friend; my mind saying just friends but my actions saying much more.