When I first started writing about Lia and Harry, it was supposed to be nothing but a one-shot, inspired by one single picture of him. A rude bartender who works across the street from this very socially anxious girl.
And then I got attached to the...
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Lia had no idea what time it was when the banging on her door started. She also had no idea how long it had been since she'd arrived home from the bar. Since she'd cried her soul out. Since she'd run out of tears.
She knew it was Harry, though. Of course she knew. He had called her non-stop for a while — from the moment she'd left the bar until she'd finally texted and asked him to please stop.
And then he had texted her, too. Multiple times. I'm sorry. Let me explain. I messed up. I was an asshole. Please let's talk. Which only made it all hurt even more. Every word she read stabbing her a little deeper inside her chest.
Because she wanted him to be there for her. She wanted to cry wrapped inside his arms and forget about the pain while laughing at something silly he said. She wanted that. She wanted to answer his phone call and ask him to spend the night with her.
She wanted him.
And yet she shouldn't want him, and she couldn't want him.
...
Right?
...
See? It would be easier if he didn't keep trying. If he didn't act like he cared. If he didn't act like he regretted his actions. If he didn't put the decision in her hands.
Was she overreacting?
Would it be okay to forgive him?
Should she never talk to him again and move on?
Should she listen to what he had to say?
She couldn't make up her mind. So she texted him back — I need some time to think — and turned her phone off. Hoping a nap would make things better. Hoping some sleep would fix everything up. Give her the answers she needed to decide how to act next.
With that in mind, she forced herself to change her clothes, then curled into a ball under her quilt and hugged a pillow. The pillow that smelled like him, and that brought a new wave of tears as she stared at the darkness outside her window and waited to fall asleep.
Except she never did.
She didn't nap, she didn't rest. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't turn her body off.
And then there he was, trying again. Banging on her door. Loudly. Desperately. A sound that worried her it would wake up all of her neighbors, and that didn't stop until she gave in and dragged herself to let him in.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." He slammed his body into hers, curving his back and grasping at her neck. "Shit. I'm so sorry babe. Please. I'm so so sorry."
Lia stared over his shoulder. Watched the hallway through the open door. The yellow lights, tinting the white ceiling and walls. Thankfully her neighbors hadn't shown up. She wondered if they ever would... If someone in that building would worry for her to the point of checking what was going on or if she needed any help. Even in the middle of the night.
