scarred wings (l.s.)

ten

Another week passes and I think I kind of forgot him. Not really, obviously, I still check whether he’s there or not every morning on my walk and every time I see a person lingering under some roof, I wonder if it could be him but it never is.

I didn’t forget him but I don’t feel like having to help him anymore. I started giving the money to a group of older people sitting a bit further and they probably spend them on cigarettes but I couldn’t care less.

I never really told my friends about how Harry left because I am sure both Amelia and Zayn would’ve made fun of me for sure.

I just told them he left after he got better again and while Niall was sad, Zayn made a comment about how sure he is that Harry stole something and that I should check my money.
I’ve been a little mad at him ever since.

I really think I don’t care about him at all when I walk to Uni that Monday, whistling quietly, smiling because the sun is finally shining.

I am only wearing a T-shirt and I couldn’t be happier about the rain having stopped towards the end of April.

I walk into the bakery with a smile on my lips. “The usual, please”, I tell Casey and she nods, asking me to wait for a minute.

“Sorry, came in late today, wasn’t able to prepare your stuff yet.”

I shake my head. “It’s all good. I’m not in a rush today, actually left extra early. Are you alright though, love? You seem stressed.”

She shrugs as she takes one of the croissants and puts it into a small paper bag. “I am good, yes. Pippa got a little sick this weekend so we had a lot to do and decided last minute that Timothy was gonna skip work and care for her, not me.”

She fills some hot water into one of those fancy reusable cups and places the bag on the counter. “I’m sorry, tell her to get well soon from me.” I get up from my chair and walk over to take the bag and put the money on the counter.

“I will.” She hands me the change as well as the cup and smiles. “Have a good day, Louis, now that the weather is finally getting better.”

I nod. “Will have, you too. Bye, Casey.”

She waves and then I step outside, closing the door carefully behind me. I take a few deep breaths, smelling the scent of spring before turning to me right, wanting to continue my walk.

Until I see the blanket. It’s the first thing I spot before recognizing his hood and the black boots as well.

I don’t really know what to feel in that moment, probably relieve, anger and worry at the same time. Because I know he’s fine but never thought of letting me know, what’s ridiculous probably and because I have no idea whether he is okay.

I approach slowly, not wanting to wake or scare him in case he’s asleep.

“Harry?”, I ask quiet and carefully.

He looks up slowly, recognizes me and places his head on his arm again, not looking at me anymore.

“Do you need something?”, he asks, question muffled by his sweater.

“I just”, I say, “I don’t know. I was just wondering whether you were okay. I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”

He sits up now, back against the rough wall of the building. “I wouldn’t know why you’d care.”

It’s stupid that it hurts, stupid that I’m actually offended when he says that. He’s right. There’s no reason for me to actually care about him so much I’d start worrying after him living in my flat for a few days.

I’ve always been like this though. I’ve always gotten attached to fast, always cared deeply for people when they didn’t even give a damn about me.

I don’t answer. I just stand there awkwardly, tripping from one foot to the other.

“That’s what I thought”, Harry says, shrugging, “So please stop harassing me and leave.”

“Just”, I start, “If you ever need help.”

Harry shakes his head now, grabbing his things and getting up in one smooth motion, almost as if he had to do that a thousand times already. It looks practiced, like he often had to leave in a rush because of circumstances I’d rather not think of.

“I’m not your fucking charity project”, he ejaculates and then he leaves.

Turns around, blanket tugged under his arm and walks away with no more words.

I stand there a little overwhelmed afterwards, the smile having left my lips a long time ago and stare at him walking down the street, disappearing into some small alley after some time.

I turn around and start walking into the direction of university with a look onto the clock, realizing I’ll be late once again.

Fuck him. Fuck me and my attachment issues, fuck this whole situation I got myself into.

I walk slowly, staring at the ground and watching the grey concrete beneath me, wondering what it must feel like to sit on it the whole day, to have nothing but yourself all the time.

I sometimes hate how my mum always taught me to care for everyone since I was young. Caring for my sisters when they were sad, for my mum when she was sick, for friends when they didn’t do well in school. It was easy back then because everyone accepted this help.

Harry doesn’t. And I understand his point of view, I’d be weirded out by some stranger wanting to help me as well.

It doesn’t even have to be me, helping. It’s not even like I’d enjoy his company that much, except from maybe that Sunday morning, it’s just that I can’t get the hurt in his voice and the sadness in his eyes out of my mind.

It’s like I need him to be safe, like my own happiness depends on that and it’s been annoying me a lot those past weeks.

~~~

do you understand both of their opinions/ feelings?