Bound To Share [Harry Styles] [A.U.] (completed✔️)

33: Love and Some Shit

HARRY'S P.O.V.

We've been walking along the hallway for minutes now in silence. I wouldn't say this is a shitty awkward silence as I'm having so much fun just having to walk a few inches behind Elle. I just don't know what she feels about this. Actually, I want to know how she feels right now, about what happened to her, about what she's going to do today besides staying in the hospital with her brother and what her plans are for tonight, tomorrow and even the next fucking day. Is she planning to stay until tonight in the hospital or is she going out with fucking Liam or with her blondie girlfriend? Damn, couldn't she just choose between the two? I mean, she has a damn girlfriend and having that fucking Liam as her best friend actually makes the equation even more confusing and difficult. I mean, that asshole likes her. If he's removed from the shitty equation, everything would be much easier. It will be one less asshole that demands her to be in a certain place at a specific time. Not that I'm threatened by that prick. He just kind of adds up to those things that divide her attention, that divide her time that she could have been spending with me.

I decide to walk to her level, but not exactly her level as I'm still a bit behind her, our shoulders almost touching. Shit, she's really the oblivious type. No wonder why Liam has been in the fucking friend zone for ages. This girl doesn't feel a shit. Hell, if I put an arm around her shoulders, would she finally budge? Would she finally feel a thing and tell me to fuck off? I struggle not to do as I've thought, my hand balling into fist at my side as I fight it down. No, I wouldn't do that, at least not now. I'm not even sure if she's comfortable with my presence or she's just putting up a show. After all, this girl can pull off the perfect, unafraid facade as far as our little encounters keep turning out in the past weeks. She's unafraid of me, or at least, that's what she has successfully shown me because I really don't know a shit at all about how she feels. She's just so hard to read. She's nothing like the girls in the pub, nothing like those that make themselves an open book and a willing fuck.

"Elle." I call her. She turns a little to look at me, her un-plucked brows slightly rising, giving me a much better view of the Tenerife Sea.

"Yeah?" She murmurs, stopping just in time by the exit of the building.

Damn, why have I not seen this before? I mean, why have I not realized so soon how cute of a girl she actually is? But seriously, what good would it do if I have known earlier? This kind of girl wouldn't want to do anything with me. After all the shit I've put her through, after all the fucked up words I told her, she wouldn't want to do a shit with a lowlife badass such as me. After several minutes of trying to muster every bit of fucking strength I could, I decide to ask her this. "I've put you through so many shit, Elle, and not because I saved you last night, it means you're not mad at me anymore. I need to fucking know how you really feel." That's the best way I could say it. There's no other way.

She looks down. I'm not sure if she's looking at my boots or what and it makes this the hell more frustrating.

"Look at me in the eye, Elle, for fuck's sake." I spit. I didn't plan on sounding so rude but it came out that way.

"I'm trying to think about it actually." She says and how the words have softly come out of her cherry lips is surely something to die for.

Sometimes when she speaks or just looks at me, I can't help but wonder how she sees me. Does she find me attractive at all or am I just another stupid man for her? If I really want to fuck her, I have to know the answer to this the soonest I can. "And?" I push her so ever gently, well, gentle at least to me.

She finally looks me up in the eye. It's hard to deny that I'm not breathing. "I'm thinking you're not really as bad as I thought you were."

That isn't enough. This is fucking crazy. "So, what are you planning to do now? I mean, with me?" If she's hearing the fit of desperation lacing through my every word, she's smart enough not to show it.