Savior

The Girl That Ignores Me

Hello Miss Scott. I, Harry Edward Styles, do apologize for being a nosy arsehole the other night.

Too formal.

Sup, girl. I'm like totally sorry n' shit-

Too informal.

Layla, I'm sorry for sticking my nose where it doesn't belong and-

"Harry, mate. What are you doing standing outside?" I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear Niall's familiar Irish brogue from behind me.

I whip around to face my blonde friend, still in his gym clothes, before spinning around to glance at the Livin La Vida Mocha sign above me. It's been a few days since I've talked to Layla, but not for better lack of trying.

I've still been coming to the café every day before or after work, but instead of the small talk or smiles she would send my way, she blatantly ignores my presence. The only time she ever acknowledges me is when she brings me my coffee -which she basically slams down on my table.

"Nervous to see your little crush? Gonna apologize and hope she forgives you and you two ride off into the sunset?" Niall teases, causing me to blush furiously and scoff.

I regret telling him about Layla and I's late night encounter, but I genuinely needed advice.

When I first heard her whimpers from through the wall I assumed it was a small nightmare and brushed it off, but then she started to yell for help and screamed 'stop.' And I have never heard a voice so full of pain... sadness.

It made something inside me snap. I needed to make sure she was okay, be there for her.

But, then she came out of her room and looked just as shaken up as her voice had sounded; ghostly pale, trembling hands, eyes so full of pain they were almost empty of life.

I wanted so badly to ask her what made her shout like that, what makes her so skittish, so afraid of people. But, I bit my tongue. And... we just sat there for hours... and it was nice. So, so very nice.

And then I had to open my big fat mouth.

"Come on, lad, buck up. Let's go see your girl. Well, not really your girl because you already have one. Or did you forget?"

Niall begins to usher me into the café and I shoot him the most vicious glare I could muster. He was right, of course, but nothing is happening with Layla. We're just friends... except, not even that.

"No, I didn't forget. Nothing is happening with Layla."

"Sure," Niall drags out the word sarcastically, "That's why you're so upset that she won't speak to you, that's why you watch her like a stalker, and why you have paintings of her all over your art room. Yep, nothing going on there."

I don't reply because there really is nothing to say, I have no excuses. Hearing it laid out like that really puts things into perspective. I do sound like a creepy stalker, like I have some sort of obsession with her.

Which, I don't. My mum just always tells me to help those in need and Layla is obviously in need of some kind of help, even if she denies it. It's curiosity and maybe a slight fascination... but, obsession? No.

And suddenly the warmth of the café engulfs us, but that isn't what sends a spark of heat through my veins. No, it's when I catch sight of a certain redhead wiping off a table in the corner. Her hair is half up today, a tattered Stones tee-shirt engulfing her frame and ripped up jeans hugging her fit legs.

I struggle to swallow.

"My boyfriend and side bitch are here!" Eliza's happy voice echoes off the walls in the small shop as she bounds up to us, wrapping both Niall and I in a hug and pressing sloppy kisses to our cheeks.