Limitless

Chapter 27

The rest of the week was pure hell.  Harry just glared at me. Glowered. Scowled. Looked daggers.  I had pissed him off.  Gotten his attention.  This is what I did before. He was a butthead to me and I was a butthead right back.  After all of the sleeping together and kissing and everything that we had done last week though, it was hard to pretend like he annoyed me.  The only thing that was annoying me at this point was the fact that he had no idea who I was other than Lou, the red-haired girl who called Harry Styles a wuss two minutes after meeting him.

When Emma and I showed up to the lacrosse practice Friday afternoon, we took our usual spot on the bleachers and sprawled out. It was the first practice that I had attended all week because of work, which was probably a good thing.  It was surprisingly warm and it definitely didn’t help that we were sitting in the sun, so I took my blue polo off.  I had decided to wear a black tank underneath all of my clothes just in case I wanted to take my shirt off and still hide my sides. Before I could lay back, someone called my name from the top of the bleachers. 

I turned around.  Harry was sitting at the top of the bleachers by himself.

"Come here." 

I frowned. “Please?” 

Harry cocked an eyebrow at me and sat back. 

I shrugged and turned back around to face the field. 

"Lou!" 

"What Harry?" 

"Come here!" 

"Please?" 

Harry scratched his head and looked around. “Please?” He finally said quietly.  I stood and walked up the bleachers to him.

"Yes?"

He studied my face. “Can you turn around for a moment?”

Slowly and cautiously, I turned around but kept my eyes on Harry.  He locked his eyes on mine until he could see the swallows on my back.  When he spotted them, he reached up and ran his thumb over my skin. “When did you get these?” 

Shit. I hadn’t necessarily forgotten about the swallows, but I didn’t think about them.  I also just didn’t expect for Harry to be sitting at the top of the bleachers.  I guess he wasn’t allowed to play because of his head. “Uh… just a little while ago.” 

Harry furrowed his brow as he studied the tattoos. “Where did you get them done?” 

"This place called Under Your Skin."

Harry nodded. “That’s where I usually go.  Did John do them?” 

I nodded.  It was killing me that Harry didn’t remember, but at least he was being cordial. 

Harry pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal his swallows.  I tried to act surprised. “Did John do those for you?” 

Harry smiled proudly. “I love them.  He did a great job on yours too.  I have to go talk to him soon.” 

I sat down next to Harry and leaned against the bleacher behind us. “Planning on getting a new tattoo?” 

Harry shook his head. “I hit my head last weekend playing lacrosse. I forgot a lot of things that happened in the last couple of weeks… or that’s what the lads keep telling me anyway. I have a huge fucking butterfly on my stomach-” He said, lifting his shirt to reveal his tattoo. “-and I just wanted to see if talking to John maybe jolted my memory or something, you know?” 

I grinned at the tattoo. “That wouldn’t be a bad idea, I guess.”

Harry poked one of the wings on the butterfly and then rolled his shirt back down. “It just sucks, you know? I keep having people tell me I lost my memory but I feel like I haven’t.  Now every day, I’m struggling to remember what I don’t know I’ve forgotten.”