Hope || HS ✔️

Chapter 72

I helped Harry into the house and into his bed. He was half asleep the whole time.

I walked down stairs and sat on the couch. I turned on the TV and slowly laid down on the couch.

I was so tired. And so confused. I feel like Harry does about me. I wouldn't give him any answers when he asked me questions, and now, I'm in his position.

With that, I fell asleep on New Years Eve, thinking of all of the fucking problems I have caused.

I woke up to footsteps. Loud, hard footsteps.

Slowly, I rubbed my eyes and sat up. The TV had been turned off and the lights were also turned off.

I look around and noticed it was Harry. He was in the kitchen, with the sink on. I could see his figure, but not what he looked like. It was pitch black.

Then, I walked into the kitchen and over to him. I stood beside him now, on his left. He hadn't noticed me.

"Harry," I said, and put my hand on his shoulder.

His body tensed up and he sat down the cup be was holding. He brought his hand over and put it over mine that was laying on his shoulder.

"What happened last night?" I asked.

He still was holding my hand in the awkward position. He took his off his shoulder and turned his body, to where he was facing me. He still held my hand, rubbing circles on the top.

"It was nothing," he rasped out.

"Where did you go?"

"I had to get some air."

"We were worried about you. I was worried about you." I whispered.

"I know," he whispered.

Then, he wrapped his arms around my waist and brought me to him. My hands wrapped around his neck.

"Please, Harry. Where did you go?"

He chuckled dryly. "You don't get it, do you?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Nothing," he said, shooing me away.

He turned around and started to walk off.

"Harry, what the hell is going on?"

"Everything is fucking wrong, Anne! Everything!" He screamed, pulling his hair.

"Harry, please." I whimpered.

"No, Anne. Just shut the fuck up and leave. It was such a mistake for you to come here. You shouldn't have came here."

I was so shocked. My mouth dropped wide open. Was he really asking me to leave?

"You're never going to understand," he said, still turned around.

"Harry, you tell me what the hell is wrong with you, or I'm leaving for good. I'm never coming back." I said, meaning it.

"Goodbye, Annie." He said.

And with that, I rushed upstairs, packed my bags, and walked out. I walked away from the lies. I walked away from the drama.

I walked away from Harry.