Infatuated (hsau)

chapter 39.

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With folded arms you occupy the bench like toothache
Stood and puff your chest out like you never lost a war
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Harlow Dean

I'm convinced this has been the worst day of my life.

First of all I had to try and stop myself from having a mental breakdown in the car with Harry. Then I drove back to my mum's grave where I sat and cried for half an hour. Then this fully grown man asked me to get in his car because I have a nice set of legs, baring in mind I was walking back to my car with tear stained cheeks. Then I tried to take a shower but ended up having a panic attack instead.

Now Harry's car is pulling up outside my house and every ounce of peace that I actually need right now has gone out the window. I'm an emotional wreck, the last thing I need is someone trying to make me feel better about myself.

By the sounds of things, Harry's worried Daniel and his gang are gonna do something which only adds to the delightfulness of my day. It's almost as if it's not my dead mothers birthday, like I'm not trying to accept the fact it's my mums first birthday she's not fucking alive for.

I can't even do that without everything going wrong.

When Harry's text comes through on my phone to tell me he's here I let out a sigh and try to shake the crippling depression from my bones for a few hours. Poor Harry didn't know what he was getting himself into with this deal we made, if only he knew I'm all messed up in the head.

"Jesus...you're alive." Harry gushes out in relief once I open the door in my plain green pyjamas.

Yeah...I'm alive, unfortunately.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask through concern.

Harry doesn't even answer my question before he steps in, running his shaking hands through his hair as he threw himself down on my couch. He looks stressed, which makes two of us.

You know, as much as I tell myself I hate Harry...I don't hate him at all.

Everyday my mind brings me back to when we first kissed in my office, when I forced him into taking me to that fight and he climbed up on that window ledge and told me 'this is what victory looks like, when we danced in my kitchen to a record I forgot I even had, when he took me to that cafe and told me about his childhood, when I woke up to him lying with his arm strewn over me.

Him, my mind keeps taking me back to him.

"Daniel and his fucking-" it looked like he was about to go off on a massive rant however he stopped himself. "Sorry...are you alright? Sorry I should've-"

If he says sorry one more time I might go insane.

"I'm fine." I interrupt, sitting down at the opposite end of the couch as he continues looking at me with that worried expression.

I hate when people worry about me. I never know how to go about it because do I lie and tell them everything's alright or do I tell them the truth and add to their worry? When people start worrying about you they start caring, and when they start caring they end up getting hurt so it's easier just to avoid it altogether.

I learned that the hard way.

"You're allowed to be sad Harlow, you have every right to be." He tells me, staring straight into my eyes. "Look me in the eyes and honestly tell me you're alright."

Are we just brushing over the fact Harry drove here because Daniel was up to something or what?

I locked eyes with him, however the words failed to leave my mouth. It's two words and I can't even do it. Lying used to come so easy to me however when you're telling a lie to someone who's eyes you're gazing into, the lie seems to become impossible.