Limerence • h.s.

36.

I've never been one for goodbyes. The unknown of the future is disturbing and makes me feel useless. Standing in the parking lot of the hotel, hugging my sister, is no different. My arms squeeze around her, the both of us silent as we spend our last few minutes in a tight embrace. The idea of not seeing her for at least the next 4 months makes me miserable.

The fact that she'll be carrying my niece or nephew that whole time, and I'll miss most of her pregnancy? I don't even want to think about it.

"Okay, let's not get too emotional."

I roll my eyes at her, pulling back and following closely as she slips into the vehicle. "Text me as soon as you're home, okay?"

She nods, squeezing my hand before settling in. I shoot her a quick smile before shutting the door and waving her off. Don't cry, Cecily. It's fine.

I inhale a breath as the car rounds the corner of the hotel, out of my sight, before walking back inside. It's late afternoon and I haven't seen Harry since this morning when he graciously got a full-course breakfast delivered for me and Kate.

Scanning the room key and pressing my floor, I tap my fingers on my thighs, waiting patiently for the elevator. The hum buzzing through the walls is actually quite relaxing when you're not piling onto an elevator with 4 rambunctious close friends. I slip inside, smiling briefly at the man who walks in behind me.

"What floor?"

"Thirteen, please." He smiles back, settling into the corner.

I press the one button before standing with my arms across my chest. The music is silent, really accentuating how fucking quiet it is in here. It could be the fact that I don't particularly trust men, but the hairs on the back of my neck raise as goosebumps flutter down my arms.

I freeze up, holding my breath as I look at the floor numbers going up and up. Please, for the love of God, why are we going so slow?

"You enjoying Portland?"

I turn my head, looking at him for a longer moment than I should. He's older, definitely in his 50s at least. "Um, yeah." I turn back, discreetly staring right back at the rising number.

"It is really quite nice, you been out of the city at all?"

I inhale a breath. "Nope," I say, watching 11 turn into 12.

"You should. Maybe I could show you around?"

The elevator halts on 13. "I'm unfortunately heading out of town," I say, stepping forward as the doors open slowly. I slip out.

"Nice to meet you!" I yell out, attempting to not appear uncomfortable. I'm cursed with anxiety that makes me friendly to avoid confrontation. I fumble the two keycards in my hand, trying to decipher which is which quickly.

I hear his steps behind me, and I breathe heavily as I read the numbers on the cards. I sneak a peek behind me, eyeing him walking as casually as can be not far behind me. He smiles, and I turn back around. With my feet picking up slightly, I waste no time slipping my key into Harry's door and shoving my way in, shutting it behind me quickly.

I take a deep breath before shamelessly turning to look through the peephole. I close my left eye, leaning into the door. I was hoping I wouldn't see him, but there he is. His back is to me, his hands in his pockets as he waits patiently for someone.

My brows furrow, my head spinning quickly. Why in the world is this guy knocking on Niall's door? How does Niall know this creep? Is it his dad?

"What are you doing?"