Speak |h.s. a.u.|

Chapter Thirty-Nine

             The rest of the vacation passed, only one night left. They would all be leaving in the morning and flying back home. Annabelle didn't want to go home, she wanted to stay in America where people had normal accents and she knew where everything was located.

Annabelle had stayed angry at Harry the whole time, not letting him touch her or kiss her since the rainy day they had a few days ago. It was making Harry go insane, he couldn't stand it. He was alone in a hotel room with her every day, he was seeing her in a bikini every day. Knowing she was sleeping alone in that big bed made him want to pull his hair out. He knew he could have slept in the bed with her before she randomly became angry, for no reason that he knew of, and he regretted every second he hadn't been holding her or kissing her when he could have been doing those things. It was beginning to make him frustrated. He was getting short-tempered and was ready to snap at any little thing that set him off.

It was ten p.m. and they both sat on the couch watching television, a lot of space in between them. The atmosphere wasn't awkward, it was just weird. It was something neither of them had felt around each other, where both of them weren't in a good mood, because of each other.

Annabelle got up and walked to her bedroom, packing up her extra things so she wouldn't have to bother doing it in the morning. Harry entered shortly after her, putting a few things in his suitcase. He saw his t-shirt that Annabelle had worn a few times laying on the end of the bed.

"Do you want this?" He mumbled, holding his t-shirt towards her. She rolled her eyes and ignored his question, which was exactly what it took to set Harry off the edge. He threw the t-shirt at the wall and turned to face her. "What did I do, Annabelle? What did I fucking do?" His voice was loud and it scared her. Her eyes slightly widened at his shouting, not used to him acting like this.

"I've done nothing but be nice to you this whole trip, and you don't even have the decency to tell me what the fuck I've done to piss you off so badly!" Annabelle's mouth dropped open in anger as his voice held a sarcastic and annoyed tone. She scoffed, picking up his t-shirt and putting it in his suitcase. She tried not to cry, it was so easy to make her want to cry. She was feeling uncomfortable and uneasy, the exact opposite of how Harry had ever wanted her to feel.

He grabbed her arm (gently, not wanting to hurt her no matter how angry he was) and made her face him. Her eyes were big and full of tears, but he wasn't going to let that make him break down and lose this argument, or whatever it was. She avoided eye contact with him and it drove him even crazier. The fact that she wouldn't even look at him made him so, so, he couldn't even explain how he was feeling. He just knew he needed to get out of this room before he did something worse than yelling at his girlfriend and making her cry. Harry was the sweetest boy on the earth until he lost his temper; something Annabelle had yet to learn.

Harry stormed out of the room, slamming her bedroom door and the door leading to the hallway. He went straight down to the beach, not knowing where else to go. He just wanted to clear his mind and free himself of the anger he was feeling. He didn't like being angry, he knew he was too destructive to anything in his path when he was mad. He knew he needed to work on his temper, he just didn't care enough to try to fix it yet.

Harry stood on the cold sand, the warm water cascading over his bare feet as the tide washed onto shore. He took a deep breath, staring into the vast darkness to calm himself down. His hands ran through his curls, lightly tugging at them every so often. He felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket and he hoped it was Annabelle, asking where he went to. On the other hand, he hoped it wasn't her, he just needed to get her off of his mind so he could think clearly for two seconds. She had constantly been on his mind since the day they met, his mind going crazy at every thought of her. He was never able to think clearly through all of these thoughts of being with her, pleasing her, making her happy.

The text was from Sandy, making Harry roll his eyes. He didn't like Sandy at all, he just wanted her to leave him alone. That's why he set her up with Danny, they were both annoying maniacs that had bigger brains in their pants than in their heads. He ignored the text, sticking his phone back in his pocket.

"Harry?" Gemma's voice called out as she got closer to him. "What are you doing out here alone?" She asked and stood beside him. He shrugged, his hands still on his head. "Shouldn't you be upstairs cuddling with your girlfriend or some mushy shit like that?" Gemma laughed.

It took Harry a moment to answer his sister, but when he did it was a short reply. "She's angry at me."

"What did you do?" Gemma sounded slightly concerned. She was a good person to talk to when you needed someone, she was strongly opinionated and open with her feelings.

"I don't know," Harry groaned. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"She won't tell you?"

"She doesn't talk, Gemma."

"Right." She mumbled. They were silent again, and Harry's gut began to fill with regret. He just shouted at his fragile girlfriend for no reason, causing her to cry. Who knows how she was feeling, or what she was doing up there in that room all alone.

Harry sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "I'm leaving now." He stated before turning around and going back to the room Annabelle was in. He was so sorry and so upset, so filled with regret. His temper was gone and the sweetness of this boy was too much to handle.

As he entered the room, he noticed all of the lights were left on and her bedroom door was still closed. His chest ached at this, knowing she had probably stayed in the room to hide and fall asleep while crying. He knocked on the door, getting no answer. He slowly opened it, entering the dark room. He took his shirt off, leaving his sweatpants on and climbing under the quilts with his girlfriend. Her sniffles could still be heard and his heart broke more and more with each whimper she accidentally let escape from her lips. He pulled her close to his body, whispering his sorries a thousand times, kissing her forehead as she turned around to snuggle her face into his warm and firm chest. They fell asleep that way, Annabelle crying and Harry regretting ever being mean to this precious girl he now held in his arms.