Right Down The Line

4

Bee's POV:

I stared at Harry, eyeing his sunken features, unable to shake the feeling that this version of him in front of me just made me miss him more.

He escaped my gaze and looked down at the floor, then rubbed his eyes and looked back at me. "Are you gonna answer or are you just gonna stare? Can you start today?" He sounded so agitated.

I looked down at the blank page of my notebook, shaking my head while I picked it up and closed it. "I need some time to get prepared. How about Monday?"

"How about noon?"

I looked back at his challenging gaze, still shocked by every confrontational response he gave me. I frowned. "Tomorrow morning is the earliest I can do."

He tucked his dry lips into his mouth. "Fine. Tomorrow morning."

I sighed, uncrossing my legs. "Alright, sounds good. Anything else?"

He smirked. "Bee is in a rush to leave, what a surprise."

Ignoring the aching in my stomach at his comment, I pushed myself up out of the chair, feeling lightheaded. I took a steadying breath. "If you're done, which I think you are," I bent down to put my notebook into my bag and lifted the bag to rest it on my shoulder, "I'm going to go back home."

"Wow, you're doing an entire reenactment now." Harry deadpanned.

An image flashed in my mind of the last time I told Harry that I was going home, the image that stuck with me and was the reason for so many of my own sleepless nights. A tearful, blubbering man sitting on a hotel bed, wondering what he did wrong.

When I dismissed the image of the past and looked at today's version of Harry, he was leaned back into the leather chair with his legs spread and arms crossed. He looked like the stubborn child he was acting like.

I towered over him, clutching my purse strap in one hand. "Maybe you should go to bed," I mumbled, moving past him toward the door. 

I heard him scoff but he didn't say anything, so I kept walking and left him alone in Whitney's office and made my way back to the elevator.

All i could focus on were my erratic breaths through my nose while I waited to get down to the main floor, and I practically jogged to my car before Whitney and Jeff could return and talk to me. I didn't care in that moment about what Whitney would think of Harry Styles sitting alone in her office, especially since she wasn't losing anything by me leaving.

The sun was coming up behind the blanket of clouds in the sky, bringing on another dreary winter day in Seattle. I slammed my car door and reached for my phone to shut it off and then I drove home in silence.

My fingers clutched the black steering wheel tightly while I clenched my teeth in frustration at this shitty start to the day. Images of Harry were bouncing around in my head - Harry today, Harry the last time I saw him two years ago, Harry in bed laughing, Harry smiling at me on the tour bus, Harry the first time I saw him. How could he have changed so much?

I shook my head and glanced at the clock. 7:25 AM.

"Fucking ridiculous," I grumbled to myself while navigating through the downtown streets toward my apartment.

Refusing to feel anything but anger, I seethed the rest of the way home including when I stomped up the seven flights of stairs to my apartment and slammed my door behind me. I yanked the clip out of my hair and kicked off my boots. I took off all my clothes on my way through the kitchen, living room and up the narrow stairs to my lofted bedroom, leaving articles of clothing strewn about in my path.