Lovesick Fool (A Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 11 - Deceiving.

I think it's been an hour since Harry left the room and I keep tossing and tossing, trying to fall asleep; I can't take Liam off my mind. I loved him, I loved him with all my heart, I let him in, and I tried to help him with... I don't even know if what he told me was real or he just made that up too...

My God, everything is so fucked up right now, what did I do to deserve it?! I had enough problems with depression at home and my parents were so scared that I'd fall back into it when I came to college... Did he just lie to me about everything in his life just to get to me? Was he that cruel? The pain in my heart is throbbing with each breath I take so I can't stay in this bed anymore.

Before I know it, I'm turning the lamp on and got out of the bed.

This whole time I was trying to fall asleep I kept hearing Harry move around the house and I think he wasn't asleep yet, but still I wanted to take a better look at his room; because I couldn't sleep and I was slightly curious. The first thing I noticed were his book shelves full of books of all kind. I took my time and analyzed each book, his collection impressing me. Jane Austen, Emily Bronte, Salinger, Thomas Hardy and many other known writers' books lay there peacefully. I heard the door crack open slowly and I jumped scared as Harry entered the room.

"What do you want?" I replied harsher than I planned.

"I... Wanted a book, I can't sleep." he scratched the back of his neck.

"What aren't you sleeping and you wander around my room?" he asked me mockingly.

"I can't sleep... You have so many books, so many great ones." I smiled to him as my palm soothed across the hard cover of Pride and Prejudice.

"Thanks..." he shifted uncomfortably. I just smiled to myself and placed the book back on the shelf; I went to sit on the bed.

"Why do you care that much about him anyway?" he suddenly asked me.

I didn't know if I should tell him about my past or not but something about the way he looked at me made me do it.

"I took medicine for 3 years, Harry. 3 years before I came to college. My parents were down, they were completely freaked out and I felt so sorry about them... Because their child was fucked up and that fucked their lives up too. I... Liam brightened me up, he told me about his past, he opened up to me, I really thought that he loved me; he made me believe, for the first time in my life, that I am worth it, Harry. I just... I don't know why I'm telling you this but I really loved Liam. I found my escape in him, my pills turned into him, he was my medicine. And now? Well, now I'm in your room, my face probably looking like a clown's and crying my eyes out while my chest throbs with every breath I take. I'm sorry... Maybe I should leave." I was crying violently by now and I got up and went for the door.

"You're not going anywhere." His voice was low as grabbed me by the hand and pulled me towards the bed.

I threw my head on the pillow and let everything out; tears were rushing down my face at a fast pace.

"Calm down, now. It's OK, it's going to be OK." he patted my back firmly and sat a strand of my hair behind my ear as he kissed me on the cheek.

"That's what every doctor told me. And it didn't get better, Harry, I know it. Stop telling me that." I sobbed.

"OK, it won't get better by itself. But YOU can make it better." he spoke close to my neck and I felt his breath warm.

"Why don't you mock me? Why don't you kick me out of here right now?" I asked as I raised myself so now I was facing him; he was looking down at me.

He let out a deep sigh and shook his head, making his loose curls move around in a lovely way; he looked quite nice if you looked deep in his eyes.