Bully Harry Styles

14

My eyes shoot open with a shivering body and an arching back. I'm freezing and the Couch is so damn uncomfortable. Is Harry home yet? It's still dark outside and the clock reads three at night. Should I just go up to his room and sleep in his bed? As much as I don't want to, my feet carry me up the stairs and to his room. I turn the handle and take a foot inside. His room is messy with clothes all over the floor and his table has got a few papers sprawled across it. A black t-shirt on the floor catches my eye and before I know it my shirt is already lying on the floor and I'm pulling the black fabric over my head. After unbottening my jeans and steeping out of them  I fall into Harry's bed, wrapping myself up into his blankets. Everything here smells so much like him and I fall asleep feeling like I'm sleeping next to him instead of his pillow.

-

I stretch my legs and arms in every direction and let out a deep yawn. My Vision turn from blurry to clear before I can realize that I'm still in Harry's bed and still wearing his shirt. My eyes wander around the room and fall on a figure sitting on the floor. Out of shock I flinch back a little and realize that it's Harry with bend legs and his elbows resting on his knees. His eyes are bloodshot and his eyes messier than ever. I swallow the lump in my throat, afraid of what his reaction to me sleeping in his bed might be.

"I'm so sorry, Zoe", his voice cracks at the end.

"When did you come home?", I ask him and he looks up to me. Right now he looks like a lost puppy and I want to do everything to feel him better. But it's Harry, the next Minute he is going to go back to hating me again.

"Around six in the morning. Look I-"

"Where you sitting here since six o'clock?", I ask him since the clock read nine.

"Well I was tired as shit and I actually wanted to go to bed and when I came into my room you were lying in my bed, wrapped up in my blanket and you were wearing my shirt. You looked so peaceful and I didn't want to wake you so I just decided on the floor, I guess.". The bags under his eyes proof that he wasn't able to sleep on the floor.

"I should go", I say.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand up, totally forgetting that I don't wear anything except from his shirt. My legs are exposed up until my mid-tigh and I quickly pull my Jeans up my legs, Harry watching my every movement.

"Yesterday when I came home drunk...", he stops, realizing what he just said. Drunk? So he get's into fight and get's drunk. He clears his throat before continuing.

"When I came home and saw that you're still here and that you were sleeping in my bed I thought that  maybe you cared about me and you wanted to stay until I got home, Even though that's probably not the case and all you did was fall alseep because you were tired I still felt like someone cared about me and it really felt fucking good."

Where is he going with this?

"No one really cares about me at all. I mean, yes my mum does but even she is tired putting up with my shit amd hell, even I am tired of myself. I have friends, I really do but they would never be here for me like I really need and I don't have a clue what I'm trying to say here but maybe since I have a feeling that you need someone to be there for you as well, we could be here for each other."

What?

He runs a Hand through his hair and let's out a deep breath.

"I know you still don't like me and probably can't even stand me, I thought it would be nice to let the guards down and maybe...", he trails of at the end.

Maybe what?

"Maybe what, Harry?", I ask him.

He swallows hard and looks at me. He is fiddling with his Hands before pushing them into the pockets of his Jeans. He is obvisiouly nervous.

"Maybe be friends?", he asks and I feel like crying and laughing at the same time.

The person who bullied me for several years and called me a bitch with a pathetic ass not even 24 hours ago is asking me to be friends with him.

"Harry, I really don't kn-"

"You don't have to. I understand if you hate me and don't want to talk to me".

"I don't hate you, never did", I say and hope he knows that I'm being honest.

Hate is such a strong word and the only person I feel hate for is my father.

He looks at me and for the first time ever I feel like I see the real him. Forest green eyes, brown, curly hair and the biggest and goofiest smile I have ever seen. Yes, he is actually smiling and I try to plant his smile in my mind as good as possible because who knows if I'll ever get to see it again?

"Could you maybe leave the room?", I ask him.

"What? Why? Have I done someth-", I cut him off before he can even finish.

"No, you didn't, I just want to change back into my shirt", I tell him.

He let's out a breath and I realize that it will take a whole damn lot of time to built a releationship with that boy.

"No, no, keep it", he tells me and smiles slightly.

"What? No, I mean it's your shirt I can't-"

"Please just keep it, I've got plenty of black shirts", he says and the goofy grin appears on his face again.

I smile and thank him. We just  stand there in awkward silence.

"I think I should go", I say amd grab my shirt from the floor.

"Alright, I'll drive you", he grabs his keys from the table and waits for me to put my shoes on.

"Were you drunk when you drove home last night?", I ask him. I hope he wasn't.

"Yes, but I've done it already a few times nothing has happened before."

"Doesn't mean nothing could happen in the future.", I tell him and hope he listens to me. I still don't like him that much to worry about him like a friend but he really shouldn't drive drunk.