Strange [h.s.]

Sixteen

Harry Styles

It's been four days since the last time I've spoken to Ella.

That doesn't mean I haven't tried to reach out. I've sent text after text, trying to get through to her. Phone call after phone call continues to go unanswered by her. Eventually, I realized that I was suffocating her by doing this and that if she wanted to reach out or talk to me, she would.

I've spent these four days practically in the same place, sitting on my couch, wishing I could go back in time to change how I went about this. I should have told her the second I found out. She deserved the transparency from me.

But I didn't, and that caused the crash of our relationship. I'm afraid of what will happen between us, but I can't blame Ella for anything she does. She has every right to act out, cry, yell, and do whatever she wants. I betrayed her trust when all she's done is be clear and honest with me.

I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it.

It's been four days of silence from Ella, making them the longest four days of my life.

So when her name flashed across my screen this morning with a text that read, "Meet at cafe downtown in an hour?"

My heart dropped, my eyes fixated on the words until the screen went black. I said yes, instantly sitting up from my spot on the couch and getting ready.

It took me about fifteen minutes to get fully ready, pacing in my living room for a short while before I got the courage to grab my keys and head out of my apartment.

I take a seat in the old cafe downtown, my eyes scanning over the details in the shop. My mind fills with memories of Ella and I in this coffee shop. When we first started dating, I would stop here on my way over to her place to pick up something sweet for her. We would come by and grab a coffee while out on our early morning walks. This tiny coffee shop holds a plethora of memories of our relationship.

I hear the chime of the bell from the door sound out, my attention being shot over to see who is walking in to get their daily fix of coffee.

And there she is.

She's dressed in a pair of black overalls, and a light gray cropped t-shirt is thrown on underneath. Her hair is down, straight as ever, and her face is free of makeup.

I watch her movements. She looks at the board above the register, reading the menu options slowly, then moves her eyes away from the counter and into the open dining room of the restaurant. My heart skips a beat when her eyes land on me sitting in a booth in the back corner of the cafe, a small smile creeping onto her face for a moment as she offers me a light wave.

I give her a wave back, standing up from my seat as she makes her way over to me. She stops once in front of me, and I'm able to get a good look at her features close up. Her eyes are slightly bloodshot, but not enough that you would wonder what happened to her. She's done a great job covering her hurt. The skin around her eyes is slightly puffy, leading me to believe that she's spilled days worth of tears over the situation we found ourselves in, and I feel my throat go dry at the realization.

I clear my throat, "What would you like to eat?"

"Just a cookie, please," She tells me, a light laugh following her words to try and cover her voice sounding weak.

I nod, motioning for her to sit down at the booth. She politely accepts, sitting down as I make my way up to the counter. I take a deep breath, ordering myself a black coffee, followed by a cookie and Iced Chai latte for Ella.

Once I have our items, I pay the worker and spin on my heels to head back to our table. I spot Ella with her head down, her gaze focused on her lap at her fidgeting hands. I sigh, my shoulder deflating as I walk over to her. I set her drink and cookie down in front of her, her head lifting to look at the items in front of her.