Darling (Harry Styles)

chap 21

ANNABELLE WILCOX
The House Away From Home

   Well, what am I supposed to do now? Am I supposed to act like nothings ever happened? Do I apologize to Cooper, or the rest of them first?

I woke the whole house up. I could hear Harry and Niall behind Louis and I on the porch. Cooper was already awake, but the way I yelled at him hurt him. Like I was physically paining him with my words.

I think that's how it will always be when I tell someone of my past. When I tell someone just how much I've been put through.

It's always the pity. The sorrow. The worry. Its suffocating.

A never ending reminder of just how shitty my life is. Of just how horrible the things I've gone through are. I hate it, I really do.

But, you can't really ask people to stop. You can't tell people to stop feeling bad for you — because they never will. And I feel that I'll just look bad for even asking.

It's their way of showing me they care, in a way that I deem as unfit. I guess I should just be happy that they listened to my story, and still stuck around afterwards.

A knock on my door makes me look up, taking my head out of my hands. Ever since Louis helped me into my room, I haven't been able to move from the edge of my bed, sitting and crying and thinking.

"Come in," I say in a small voice, scared for whoever it could be.

The door creaks open, slowly, like the person is still unsure if they want to enter or not. My eyes penetrate through it, begging to know who would want to talk to me right now.

I almost regret looking once they reveal themselves, closing the door behind them. My stomach forms knots inside of it, embarrassed by how his presence both calms me and angers me at the same time.

"Go away." My voice is still small and I know deep down I don't mean my words.

Harry doesn't listen, keeping that stern look as he stares at me. "Deep down, I think that I'm the cause for this breakdown, but then again, that could just be my ego talking."

The cause for this breakdown? No. I wouldn't say so. Not the only cause, at least.

"Did you mean those things?" I change the topic of conversation, needing to know. "Was all that time we spent together all for nothing? You couldn't even apologize to me after — you couldn't even look at me without looking at me like I was the worst thing you've ever seen. Was being around me that horrid?"

"No," his voice breaks and I know for once he's being honest with me, "i-it was the opposite. I think that's why I said those things, because I didn't... I didn't want to admit the truth."

I look up at him, "And what's the truth?" I laugh, not in a good way, "Because honestly Harry, I've spent every single minute since then, sitting here and hating myself and beating myself up over your words."

"The truth... the truth is I haven't been able to get you off my mind since I met you, Anna. Your name. Your face. The way you twitch your nose when you lie. The way you listen to every word someone says like it's the most marvelous thing in the world. The way you care. The way you click your tongue against your mouth when something's bothering you. I can't stop thinking about everything single thing you do. And I hate myself for the way I've made you feel. Honestly."