Vigilante | H.S.

32 | Sober

March 31

The past week Harry has just been really confusing.

I didn't understand his behaviour, because some days I wouldn't hear from him for a few days, but he seemed mad since I told him about James, and all my texts would go unanswered, but then there were the days where he was doing simple gestures, such as asking how my day was, or bringing me a cup of coffee in the morning when he was on his way to work.

I honestly had no idea what was happening between us, all I knew was that I felt like he was somehow engraving himself into me, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Every night at the club, I found myself looking for him, and it was almost embarrassing how excited I would get the minute I saw someone with long brown hair, only to be disappointed when it wasn't him.

But he just seemed mad at me, or mad in general.

Some mornings, he would stop by my apartment and would give me a coffee, an oat milk latte, somehow he knew what my favourite was.

He would never really speak much, he'd just say a good morning and hand me it. Say that he passed my apartment on his way to work and it was a nice excuse to see me, and he always had an almost smile on his face, but I could see the anger in his eyes.

And then I would hear from him at all for a few days, completely ignoring every text, I wouldn't see him in the mornings or at the club. Only for him to show up the next morning, looking either angry or exhausted to give me a coffee.

There was definitely something bothering him, and I hoped it wasn't the whole James situation, but I knew I was wrong, because he had just seemed off after he found out.

I hadn't seen him in a few days, or heard from him. But it didn't really bother me too much. His whole life didn't revolve around me and I was just being needy by wanting to see him or hear from him every day.

I was sitting alone in my kitchen, on the kitchen counter instead of one of the stools so I could see out of the window across the room. There was never anything exciting happening, but sometimes I just liked to watch people live their lives, or just watch pigeons eat random things off the ground.

I had made myself a nice bowl of pasta, I hadn't really been putting effort into what I had been eating the past week, I had survived mainly on bread and pot noddles-

The sound of three loud knocks on my front door made me jump so hard I nearly fell off the counter and dropped the bowl of pasta I had spent so long on.

I checked the time on my phone, it was 9.p.m. I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what crazy person was banging on my door at this time.

I hopped off the counter and put the bowl of pasta where I had just been sitting, making my way over to the door. The three loud knocks came again, so aggressive that the whole door actually shook.

I opened up the door, seeing a very familiar face that I didn't expect to see here.

"Harry?"

He was standing there leaning against the doorframe, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. He was wearing only a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, but I could see the thin layer of sweat in his hairline, along with his messy hair that draped over his shoulders.

He was breathing heavily like he had just been running, and I watched as his eyes trailed all the way down my body, and then all the way back up. His eyebrow twitched together, creating that crease between them.

"Can I come in?" He finally spoke, a deep tired sounding rasp to his voice.

For some reason my response was only to stare at him. I meant to respond to that, but instead I just searched my eyes across his face. There was something off about him, there was something wrong but I couldn't tell what.