Night Shift [h.s]

nine

☁️ HARRY ☁️

To say I was nervous to meet Lana would be an understatement of the century. I hadn't slept, I hadn't eaten, I hadn't really moved off of my sofa since I arrived home at about eight o'clock this morning. It was like I was just frozen in place whilst my mind was totally reeling, spinning around at a hundred miles an hour whilst I try to get a grip on myself.

I didn't really know what was going on. I had had suspicions of things but then I would shoot them down because they never quite feel right, or perhaps the thought just scared me.

At first I had thought she had a man at home, that she had someone else to go home to and perhaps she needed the enjoyment of the sex, but the moment it was over, it all became too much for her and the guilt was starting to eat her alive. Maybe that's why she always hurried off in a rush, she just could cope with the guilt.

Then I had felt bad for thinking such a thing of her. She wasn't that low, at least I hoped she wasn't. I often thought about how she mentioned she had to get home to her sister and all I could come up with was that she was either living at home still and having to take care of her sister, or her sister was living with her.

Either way, I was blaming the sister though my mind wasn't fully convinced, I was just looking for any old excuse to make me feel better about myself.

I wasn't even sure what Lana was going to tell me today. I didn't know what was going to come out of her mouth and for that reason I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat and I couldn't be comfortable when the unknown was so prominent.

I couldn't stop thinking about it and it was driving me insane.

What could she possibly have to tell me? I couldn't figure out if she was going to spill her life story, if she was going to tell me why she runs, if she was going to admit that something else was going on. I just couldn't understand.

Niall had said he had heard her say something that wasn't meant for his ears, but once he had heard it, he couldn't let it go. I didn't pressure him too much to tell me because I knew it was wrong. I knew it was wrong to ask him for answers when they should only ever come from her mouth on her terms. I knew it was wrong that he had even forced her to say something in the first place. I had called him out for it the moment she had ran away in fear. She was so scared, like a baby deer, one tiny movement and she was hurrying away into the bushes.

I was overly cautious over saying the right thing today. I knew she was scared, terrified even, if I was to say the wrong thing or if I was to give a reaction that she wasn't expecting then it was likely she'd just run again. She seemed to be so scared of reality and all it brings with it. It made me wonder what had made her be that way, if there was something that had made her scared or if maybe that was just apart of her personality.