Life in the middle-Harry Styles Fanfic AU COMPLETED

Chapter 25

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I get in my car and look out in the car park for Harry, but he's gone. "Fuck Echo what were you thinking ?" I yell inside my head. Why did I let him go like that? I have plenty of questions to ask myself but not many answers right now.
I switch the ignition on and let the car warm up a bit. No Harry. No one is left in the car park but me and a couple of other cars. I close my eyes and bang my head on the steering wheel, before driving home.

It's started raining since I got home, and I can't help but think about Harry walking alone in the rain. Should I text him? I question myself. To say what? Sorry but I freaked out and thought I was doing you an favour by dismissing you? Yeah that sounds great, you idiot. I've done this, I let him in, and pushed him out. But I can't tell him why.

I can't tell him of the hopelessness and fear I felt at the end of the meeting.
I can't even pick up the phone right now to tell him, none of it was his fault. That he was just a complication to a conversation, I did not want to have.
I don't realise how long I've been standing behind my locked door until now.
I get into the shower and turn it to steaming hot, I feel dirty and intruded upon.
I stay in the shower until I feel slightly ok enough after I'm rubbed my self raw, but clean.

I wrap a towel around my head and put on some winter pyjamas. I don't want to stay in my room, it feels lonely and I walk out of the studio as soon as I see the drawings and photos of Harry.
That seemed so long ago. Not hours but months. I started to let him in. He helped me today, with my Mother, he helped me put up with her and I was so happy, and thankful. So this is the way I thank him??

I walk into the spare room, and look around. I take it all in, my clothes on the floor, the sheets shattered around the bed and his spare shirt. I pick it up and smell it and it smells of him.
I pull my top off and put his shirt on. He's smell and shirt is all I have right now. I know I could probably have him, if I wasn't such an idiot but I made my choice tonight.

I check my phone to look at appointments tomorrow.
I have 27 messages all from Harry.
The first -ECHO PLEASE TEXT OR CALL ME WHEN YOU GET HOME WE NEED TO TALK-
to the last-PLEASE JUST TEXT TO SAY YOURE OK- he must have realised I wasn't going to call me at some point, and he finished just wanting to know if I was ok. One text message, just one, I repeat in my head, what the hell am I suppose to say? Nothing, just tell him I'm ok.
HARRY I AM OK- I press send and am surprised at the speed of his reply
-CAN I SPEAK TO YOU PLEASE, JUST FOR A MOMENT- no no I can't I just can't, I'm doing this for him.
-ECHO SOMETHING IS GOING ON, YOU CANT GO FROM TODAY TO TONIGHT WITHOUT AN EXPLANATION, I BELIEVE YOU OWE ME ONE, PLEASE-
I can do this right now, I told him I am ok, why isn't that enough for him. And an explanation? How do I explain anything to him?

I feel terrified and lonely and I can't but help feeling violated.
What happens when a place you feel safe at no longer makes you feel that, I question where to go from here? What will I do? This throws my whole mental health plan right out.

Harry and I planned to go to the meeting, then have dinner and then we would have either both agreed to stay together or tried to pull away from each other apart so he could go home.
But now that we're apart it hurts, I feel an ache in my chest, I feel like there's a piece of the puzzle lost.
Even though I know he will need to fly home at some point, this doesn't or didn't stop me from wanting to be close to him. God, if only he were here right now, I'd be held by his strong arms and that would mean safety for me. But I can't, I can not allow him to get hurt just because I want to be with him, around him, within him and him within me. My body heats up just thinking about him.

I jump out of bed and enter my Studio, I grab a handful of printed pictures and go back into the spare room.
I lay out the photos of him. This face close up, flawless. His eyes, hold so much mystery about them, here his eyes look sensual and uninhibited. That's the Harry I've come to know, full of passion and spontaneity. Nothing like my and my rigid life.
I fall asleep on the pillow were he lay, and dream of him making love to me in the Studio.