Songbird- Harry Styles

fifteen

Chapter 15

**Emory's POV**

I get up and walk away, spitting the sand out of my mouth. I nearly trip and fall over a branch in the parking lot and it annoys me even more. My phone is dead and I have no idea what time it must be, but I know we missed our meeting and my father is about to chew my head off.

Harry follows closely behind me, picking up the blanket I left on the sand. I quickly unlock the car doors and sit down, starting the car. The clock reads 12:32 so unfortunately, the meeting was three hours ago. I start to back up and evade the situation when Harry pulls on my door handle before I can escape. I roll my eyes and open the door for him to get in. I can't just leave him here - that would be a dick move...

I'm not annoyed with him. I can't be. After what he did for me yesterday there's no way I can be upset. I'm annoyed with myself and he just happens to be the nearest person to me right now. Also because how the fuck did I fall asleep in the middle of a beach? I let him too close last night. I was too vulnerable. There are just some things that only some people need to know. I know it's a little different considering that he literally walked in on the situation and I felt like I should give him a bit of context, but he has enough going on without having to worry about me. I hate being a burden to people I care about. This is slightly upsetting because I was starting to maybe consider us... friends? But now I feel like I have to push him away. I can't damage him too.

I was too lost in my head to realize that I was speeding. Harry didn't say anything, sensing the tension, but his face was getting slightly paler every second that I was pushing over 100. I guess I read him wrong, maybe he isn't the daredevil I anticipated. Either way, I slow down a little, not wanting to add a speeding ticket to this already off-kilter morning.

I go up the highway, back to where he lives. The car ride remains pretty silent. I usually hate that, but right now I prefer it. I am beginning to realize that I probably overreacted to seeing him this morning, but waking up on a beach, cuddled into a warm body with a heavy-ass arm draped over you was startling. I know neither of us intended to end up that way so I can't fault him- I was just surprised.

I can see that he keeps looking over at me, probably expecting me to say something, but I don't really have anything to say. I have cooled off. I'm not upset. It's just been a long night and I don't have it in me to strike up a conversation. I want to just be at home.

As I approach his driveway, he breaks the silence. I was just hoping he'd get out and we'd reconvene at a later date.

"Emory," he says, seriously, opening the car door.

"Harry," I say, mimicking his tone as I turn my head to look at him. He is halfway out of the car already, starting to step out. He puts one arm up on the top of the car, one on the door as he starts to shut it. He inhales before he speaks.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asks, sincerely.

His eyes were softening, his lips slightly parted, and the day-old scruff starting to show up on his top lip and jawline. I felt see-through.

Something in me wanted to tell him, no, I'm not okay, and run inside and tell him everything.

The sane part of me answered.

"I will be," I said back with a small smile.

He sighed and hung his head, only half-believing me, letting himself show more emotion than I'm sure he's comfortable with.

He shut the door, turned his back, and walked into the house that he seemingly left unlocked. I back out and get on my way home.

I turn on the radio, not particularly in the mood to search through my song library and just let the random music play in the background for the remainder of the drive. I can feel a breakdown coming on, but I want to be home first. I try with everything in me to keep the tears from falling in the car. I think there is definitely something aesthetic about crying in your car at night, but no unassuming bystander wants to be witness to snot bubbles on the 405 in broad daylight.