'Back To Life' - Harry Styles fanfic

Chapter 3

I sat in the drivers seat of my car. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, my fingertips nervously digging into the leather material. I sighed loudly and un-gripped the steering wheel, smacking my palms against the dashboard. This was it. I would have to face a piece of my past. There was no going back. If I wanted her, I would have to face this and face him. I sighed again and I swear my eyes misted up. I shook out my curls, raking my hand through them and dismissed any feeling of upset. I didn't do upset. Not anymore. I was tougher than that. Tougher than this.

I slid out of the seat and out of the vehicle. The door slammed shut and I pulled the collar of my black trench coat, up around my face. My eyes scanned the familiar black door and somehow my feet took me right up to the doorstep. I took a glance around the dark, desolate street. The road was lit up slightly by the moonlight and my fingertips felt cool as they came into contact with the metal door-knocker.

Everything seemed to go into slow-motion as the door opened. There he was. The only best friend I had ever had. The only best friend I had ever lost. I slammed my palm roughly against the black shiny wood as he attempted to close the door in my face. My strength still out-matched his and his bright blue eyes met mine in a disappointed glare.

"You...you'd better come in..."

I nodded as he stood to the side, giving one last cautious glance to my surroundings, before ducking my head into the house. The sound of the door closing behind me sounded so final, and past memories instantly entered my head. I felt my lips tug themselves into a smirk. The sound of laughter filled my ears. Laughter and mischief. I sighed to myself as my mind built walls around the past, shutting it out with nothing but darkness. My eyes were squeezed shut. It was the only defense mechanism I knew, and it worked. 

I snapped my eyes open and followed him through the dark hallway, our shadows casting themselves against the walls as we walked the long distance to what we used to call 'The Den'.

I watched him sink down on his usual red beanbag. A smirk spread across my lips as he sunk a little too low, falling backwards. I didn't dare laugh. Back then it would have been a laughing moment, but not now. Not after everything. My mind trailed away with me, and again I squeezed my eyes tightly shut in an attempt to block everything out.

Stop thinking about it Harry. Stop it. No good will become of thinking of the past. It's not the same. It will never be the same.

His eyes held so much hurt and I felt my stomach flip. I drew my coat across myself trying to disguise the fact I needed to hold my stomach to deal with the feelings that were now flooding back like an unwanted Christmas present.

Christmas...damnit! Fuck! Stop it Harry!

"So...how'd you find me?"

His familiar Irish accent felt like a strange comfort, but I didn't let on.

"You live in the same place Niall. It wasn't exactly difficult..."

"Right...yeah...so...what do you need? Sorry but I'm all out of blood..."

His words made my stomach sink and I took a step forward, stepping back when he held his hand out to maintain our distance.

"Niall..."

"Don't...just tell me what you need and...and then we can forget this visit ever happened..."

I sighed and glanced behind me. There it was. The brown leather recliner I had more or less claimed as my own.

Keeping my eyes on his, I carefully lowered myself into the seat. Memories threatened to envelop me but I sat forward, resting my arms on my knees, my hands clasped together.