Prove It (H.S)

Chapter Twenty Two

Harry's POV~

As I walk to my Music Theory class, hot coffee cup in hand, I hear a familiar voice call my name from behind me. I turn around only to see Aubrey. Well isn't this just a lovely way to start off the morning?

"Oh, hey Aubrey," I say, taking a sip from the coffee. She smiles brightly at me and her full lips are stained red. "So, I heard you were in Portland? With Claire?" Her eyes are searching mine in an odd way and I can slowly see her inching her way closer to me.

"Yeah, I was." She looks down and bites her lip, then back at me. "She didn't come back with you?" She's only about a foot away from me now so I take a step back. "No, she was pretty messed up after her grandmother passed away," I tell her, getting annoyed by her presence.

"Oh right, I was so sorry to her about that," she says, plastering a concerned and empathetic look on her overly made-up face. Something tells me it isn't sincere. I give her a fake smile and nod. I pretend to look at my phone to check the time.

"Well, I'm going to be late for class, so," I begin to walk away when she grabs my shoulder, causing me to turn around. "Wait," she says, her face only inches from mine. I'm beginning to wonder if she knows we're in public. "In case you're ever bored, call me."

She slips a piece of paper in my front pocket and walks away, a huge grin on her face. If I had to pick the most awkward moment in my twenty one years of life, that would be it.

I quickly scurry off to Music Theory and hope that I'm not late. I take a few last sips from my coffee before throwing it away and think about none other than Claire Hoffman.

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Claire's POV~

To my surprise, it feels good to be back on campus. I have a sense of security and normalcy that I didn't expect to experience. I am nervous about how much I've missed in all of my classes though, but even more nervous to see Harry.

As I push the doors open from my dormitory, I run into someone's chest, making me drop my folder. "Oh, sorry," the familiar Irish accent says. I look up to see Niall. He smiles at me and picks my book up, handing it to me. I smile at him shyly. "Thank you."

He nods and his face quickly falls into a frown. "I'm sorry about your grandma," he says, brushing his blonde hair up with his fingers. "Thanks," I say, clutching my folder to my chest. We begin walking.

"So, uh, does Harry know you're back?" He asks, and I almost trip over the sidewalk. After collecting myself, I say,"No, actually he doesn't. I was hoping to, umm, surprise him." Niall looks at me as if I've grown two heads and I can feel my face turning hot. "Surprise him?" He raises an eyebrow at me. I sigh in defeat.

"I don't really know what's going on with us right now and I was honestly just waiting for us to bump into each other," I say, running my fingers through my silky blonde hair.

He nods, doing the same action. "Well, I hope all goes well. See ya," he waves me off, turning into the Rosenfeld Library. I stop in the middle of the path, staring at that bench. That's the bench. The bench I was sitting at when I first saw Harry. That feels like so long ago, even though it wasn't.

I snap out of my flashback and continue to walk, my knuckles turning white from clutching onto my folder. My head feels heavy at the thought of how Harry will feel when he sees me. I wonder what he'll say? Will he be angry? Hurt? Whatever it may be, I'm ready to face it, I hope.

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Harry's POV~

Class is over and I walk out of the building, pulling my hair into a bun that a certain someone loves so much. I start to walk to the dining hall to meet Louis and the boys when I see that certain someone's face I missed so much, but wasn't expecting to see.

Claire is standing in the middle of the sidewalk, arms crossed in front of her, holding a green folder, top lip between teeth, and blonde hair blowing with the wind. She looks perfect, yet I don't feel the urge to run to her. I want to see if she'll run to me this time.

She looks at the ground and begins to walk slowly to me. When she finally reaches me, she looks up, her eyes full of guilt. They begin to tear as she says,"I'm sorry." I don't say anything, because I can tell she isn't finished. "Do you still love me?" She asks, letting out short, abrupt breaths, signaling that she's about to cry. I open my arms, wrapping them around her slim body.

"There are not enough hours in the day to explain my love for you, Claire," I say quietly into her ear. Her fingers sink into my back a she presses her head against my chest. When she finally looks up, her mascara has run a little and her eyes are glossy. "Thank you for wanting me," she whispers and I kiss her.

Her lips part, giving my tongue room to slip into her mouth. I press my hands to her cheeks and she pulls away slightly, waiting for me to say something. "I'll always want you Claire, remember?" She smiles so brightly at my response, it's like I'm blind to anything else in the world. It's all her.

We begin to walk, hand in hand, like it should be. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?" I gather the courage to ask. She closes her eyes and slowly opens them again. "I don't know. I was worried if I did, you wouldn't care." She sucks on her bottom lip, causing it to deepen in color. I smile at her and squeeze her hand.

"I'm so glad you're back," I say. She leans her head on my arm as we walk, and all is good in the world. She's back, not just back to LA. She's back, as in she seems like the Claire I knew before we went to Portland. She's back to the girl I fell in love with.

Claire is back.