Can't Get Enough

17.

17.

An exhausted Leila rolled over and put her tiny arm around my chest. I removed one arm from the back of my head and held hers. I don't know what it is about this girl, but she makes me want to always hold her. I kissed her soft hair.

"Damn, taco, your mom should make you pissed more often!"

I felt my brow furrow in confusion.

"Um, not from my point of view."

"Well from mine, it adds up to the best sex I've ever had." She gently caressed my face and kissed me softly.

A knock sounded at my door.

"Harry? It's me." My mom's pinched voice rang from the other side of the door.

"Shit" we both breathed.

"Can I come in?" She knocked again, impatiently.

"Uh..hold on!" Leila's eyes were wide with surprise as she hastily began putting on her underwear.

"Shit, what're we gonna do? That's what my ass gets for being impulsive! This always works in the movies, why can't I just-eep!" She squeaked as I pushed her off my bed and I was sorry the moment I did it. I whispered "I'm sorry" as she rolled under my bed, annoyed, just as my mom came in.

"Where's Leila?" She said, looking around nervously.

"...pooping," I said, gesturing towards my bathroom door and thanking god it was closed. A look of relief washed over her face.

"Oh, okay. I just wanted to apologize for bringing up...that day. I didn't know you were still upset--it's not your fault, and-"

"It's cool, mom." I said hurriedly.

"No, you seemed really upset, are you sure-"

"I'm sure. Positive. Thanks. Bye."

"Alright then..." She noticed Leila's dress on the floor, looked at me, and turned towards the door.

"Make sure you dispose of that condom properly." She said before closing her door on the way out.

Leila popped up from under the bed, her sex hair fanned out around her. I wanted to destroy her tenfold.

"So basically I could've still been next to you and you're mom would've had the same reaction." She said jokingly.

"More or less." I replied, more so hoping she wouldn't bring it up.

"What day was she talking about, by the way?" She said, snatching my black shirt from the floor and putting it on. Damn.

"Nothing. It's nothing." I said a little too quickly.

"She wasn't talking about..." Her voice trailed off.

"No she wasn't."

"Stop lying to me." Her expression grew hard.

"I'm not lying." I said, trying to be innocent. She crawled across the bed and sat on my lap, crossing her arms.

"Harry, I'm not going to ask you again."

"Forget about it, baby." I pushed myself forward, leaning in to kiss her, but she dodged it.

"Why are you avoiding this?" She looked more hurt and concerned than annoyed now.

"I just don't want you caught up in my business." Wrong choice of words. Leila's nose flared, and instantly I knew I was about to get an earful.

"Your business?! Your business? Lets talk about 'your business!'" I found her use of air quoting highly offensive.

"L, come on. I didn't mean it like that, I just want to keep you close-"

"Then tell me what's bothering you!" She cried.

"Maybe if you weren't such an over-dramatic bitch, I would!" I screamed back. Instantly I felt a sting on my cheek. She tore off my shirt and threw it in my face, getting off of me.

"And maybe, if you were actually a good boyfriend who cared about me, and the well-beings of our relationship, I wouldn't have to be over-dramatic!" She gathered her dress from the floor and started zipping it. "Then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to have shut you out, and gotten close to Zayn while you were over here moaning about your dead father!" She screamed then instantly her eyes grew huge apologetically. I felt my chest tighten, myself start shaking.

"Get out." I whispered, climbing out of bed and facing the nearest wall.

"Harry..."

"Now." I growled.

She stood there, frozen. I slammed my fist against the wall, tearing a hole through.

"I said now!" I repeated, turning back to look at her, my fist raised. She looked at my fist, petrified, my face, in horror, and quickly exited-shutting the door behind her. I saw my mom look on from the hallway and turn back to me, shaking her head in disgust.

That makes two of us.

I couldn't decide who I was more mad at. Leila, for being an insensitive and pushy asshole, or me.

For being a pushier and more insensitive, assholier boyfriend. I ran my hand through my hair, pacing around my room. Trying to calm myself wasn't working. I was getting hyped up again.

"Slow down Styles, you can control this." I spoke to myself.

My chest was rising and falling rapidly. I sat on my bed, mind spinning. It had crept away again, my sanity. Come back. Leila, come back.

I slowly calmed down and looked at my bedside table. A framed picture caught my eye. Leila, eyes sparkling with a bouquet of her favorite flowers in her hand and her previous favorite boy's hand in the other. The freshman in the photo were beaming happily, not a care in the world.

Where did they go?

My eyes drew to a bong next to the picture.

Oh.

I stared at it for a while, debating my choices. All of them drew back to Leila and how upset she would be.

I wouldn't see her around, anyway. My previous actions pretty much confirmed that.

But as the flame underneath flickered and I closed my eyes as I inhaled, I couldn't help but envision her smiling face, always believing in me, always telling me to push myself. Rain had started to fall, as well as my attitude.

--

I wasn't sure then, but I'm sure now.

Leila, I'm in love with you.

Save your superman.

--

IM SO SORRY IM TAKING SO LONG I BLAME AP US HISTORY!!!

More soon (: XO