Was it All an Accident? (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction, Book Three)

Part Twenty: So You Don't Hate Her?

(Whytnie’s POV)

“You know we’re going to have to eventually talk about this,” I tell Harry, who’s finishing unpacking his stuff while I sit cross-legged on his bed. He glances at me, shrugs, and then goes back to hanging up his clothes. I don’t know why they always have to be so neat and unwrinkly. If you ask me, it takes up too much time. I really don’t care about wrinkles. Well, except the ones on my face. Those you got to watch out for.

            “Talk about what?” Of course he’s going to play innocent like he doesn’t have one single clue as to what I’m talking about. It’s all over! Every directioner’s fanpage is talking about this! I see new updates about this every other minute! They’re saying it’s confirmed, but Harry never talked to me about this. Was he planning on leaving just out of the blue? If so, then why was he unpacking? Hmm, very curious.

            “You do know that when you tell me that you can tell when I’m lying? Well, I have that same exact power!” I imply. He rolls his eyes, stops what he’s doing and comes to sit in front of me on the bed.

            “Fine. You’ve got my undivided attention.”

            “Is it true?”

            “Is what true?”

            “You know, what people are saying about you?”

            “I thought you and I had a deep understanding about believing the rumors?” Might as well have slapped me literally, it felt like that anyway. He was so logical it irritated me. And where was all this anger management coming from anyway?

            “We do,” I reply through gritted teeth.

            “But…?”

            “But this one could be true.”

            “Explain.”

            He nodded his head in my direction, motioning for me to go on with what I was going to say. I rolled my eyes. “About you rejoining the band.” Shock, confusion, interest, and then worry showed through his features.

            “It could be true.”

            “So it is?”

            “I said it could be true.”

            “So it isn’t?” He made an over exasperated sound. “You’re kind of giving off mixed signals here.”

            “It isn’t true.” I opened my mouth to add some more, but he silenced me and continued on. “Even if it were, it would be a conversation we’d have together before I even considered asking them to let me back in.”

            “Will you?”

            “Will I what? Marry you? Yes. Love you for the rest of our lives? Yes.”

            “No!” I playfully hit him. “Will you rejoin the band?”

            “Is this a way to get me out of the house? Do you need more alone time, is that what you’re wanting?” He winked at me and I shook my head. He was so weird. “Because you know what? When we’re married, there goes all traces of privacy you have now. No secrets.”

            “I thought we weren’t supposed to keep secrets now.”

            “You’re right, we’re not supposed to.”