A Lost & Stubborn Middle (HS) [BOOK II]

11. Okay

Chapter Eleven

Anastasia's Point of View:

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  Dear Harry,

I don't know why I am writing to you when you're just across from me with that familiar worried look you would consistently give me three years ago. You're worried about my safety and my mental health, not wanting me to sink into my life that seems to be like quicksand, always trying to pull me under and never catching me a break. I want to help you and tell you everything is okay but I know I wouldn't sound convincing. I guess I'm writing to you because you will always be my muse, my inspiration, my art. Writing to you, despite the deep rooted sadness that lingers with our history, was always calming to me and helped me from over flowing. I need you to help me from doing that now so I'm going back to my old habits and writing you in secret.

We almost had a beautiful second beginning, it seemed that all the stars we're leading me to you and it was our big chance to see if what we feel is meant to be or is it just the chase of us keeping us together, but then we went to that stupid coffee shop and everything seems so foggy once more. I just want to love you peacefully, without any madness. I just want to feel how blissful it would feel to be loved by you. We don't seem to be wrong for one another, It doesn't seem to be temporary, so why can't we just be in love and the world be okay with it?

I want us to work out Harry, but now I am not running away from my fear of you, I'm running away from the fear of my monstrous father. What if he harms you? What if he uses my love for you against me and kills you? Even if I can't have you I don't want to know what life would be without at least being about to see how life turns out for you. I don't want to be the cause of a beautiful man leaving this world too soon. I don't want our love to be some tragedy.

Goodbye Harry.

Love,

Anastasia

"You're writing a lot more now," He sends me a small smile as I close my notebook, placing my pen on top of it.

A shrug slightly. "I write when I feel like it's getting too much to keep in head."

"Please talk to me," Harry sighs, walking across the room and sits at the end of my bed.

"There's not-"

"You're lying." He shakes his head. "You just saw the man who has been the center of your pain and trauma, there's definitely something to talk about. I know this part in our relationship Anastasia. You start to shut me out and expect me to just sit and tolerate it. That's exactly why you ended up kissing Zayn because you let him in, when you never could let me in."

My eyebrows furrow at his sudden outburst, watching as he stares at his hands, his thoughts fighting against each other in his head. I could tell he was just as scared as I was about our relationship and that was somehow comforting, to know that I am not the only selfish one to be still be thinking about us when I should be worried about the murderer.

I reach towards him, rubbing his back as I place my chin on his shoulder. "What I did to you was unfair and I'm sorry. I tend to think that if I keep you away from my pain I'm somehow saving you. I am terrified but I am also so tired of being given a chance to see the light of things and then someone comes to block the sunlight once more. I just want peace."

He places his hand on my knee, leaning into me. "Come live with me."

I jerk up. "What?"

"He would never expect you to be downtown with me. You will be safe with me, I promise I will protect you. We could still make us work, we don't have to let this come between us."