walls | h.s

forty-two.

I didn't bother to go to the bedroom and stayed on the couch. I didn't even feel like moving. I had no idea what time it was but Harry has been gone for quite a while now and I was still in the same exact position I was in when he left.

I honestly didn't know what to do. I ran out of tears a long time ago but the aching in my heart hasn't got any less. I was mad and hurt.

I was mad at Andrew for kissing me when he clearly knows that I'm not interested. I thought we could go back to being friends but he's a complete jerk and I don't ever want to have to talk to him again, I don't even care if Ana and Cassidy will stop hanging out with me because of it, but I just don't want things to get worse. But what if they couldn't get worse? What if Harry was done with me? It was a silly thing to think, but it was also something that made sense to me.

I was also mad at Harry because he really thought that I'd do this to him, he really believes that I would want to kiss Andrew when all I want is him. He has never been in a relationship before so I understand that showing emotions and being with someone is something that's easier said than done but does that really give him the right to react that way? To call me a whore and talk to me like I'm dirt and not even listening to me?

But the person I was mad at the most was I. Whatever I do, something always goes wrong. As much as I try to be perfect and do everything I can right, I still always manage to mess it up. Whenever I find happiness it vanishes faster than I thought it could. I always ruin my own happiness and that only leads me to dislike myself even more with every mistake I make. I get so jealous when I see people who have a perfect life and who achieve everything they want and when I look at myself, I see everything that I would never want to be.

I hated crying, I hated it so much but I couldn't help doing it. In fact, I was crying so much that my throat has gone dry and I desperately wanted water but even for that I was too lazy, I didn't even want to get up. All I did was pity myself and ask myself, why the universe seems to hate me so much.

There were so many emotions bottled up inside of me and I was clueless as of what to do. The thing about Harry is that you'll never know how he reacts about things; he could either react calmly or burst out.

I sat on the couch, legs pulled to my chest and arms wrapped around them. When I looked at the clock which was in the living room and showed 11:42pm, I wasn't crying anymore. I just sat there, staring at nothing and letting my heart ache.

The door opened a few minutes later and I heard someone getting in and then the door shut again. It sounded as if someone was stumbling towards the stairs but it didn't just sound like someone- the clicking of heels was heard as well and my body turned around in a matter of seconds and what I saw made my blood boil.

Harry wasn't alone, there was a blond girl in his arms and his lips were attached to here, hungrily kissing her as he stumbled to the stairs.

I felt my heart break at the sight and the anger in me only got worse. "Are you fucking kidding me," I muttered under my breath but apparently it was loud enough for Harry to hear.

He turned his head and looked at me, the moon that shone through the window illuminating the room enough so I could see him. His eyes were glossy and as he slurred, "What the fuck?" I knew he was drunk.

But being drunk is definitely no an excuse to bring home a girl, stick your tongue down her throat and getting ready to have sex with her.

He might've been mad at me, which was ridiculous because he didn't even let me explain but that does not give him a reason to cheat on me.  Unlike Harry, I actually didn't kiss anyone and I didn't try to hurt him on purpose.