Trapped (A Harry Styles FanFiction)

Nine

*Anna's POV*

The wooden park bench beneath me was bone-chilling cold, the fall air merciless and working it's magic to make sure that everything was as chilly as possible. I brought my soft wool jacket closer to myself, desperately trying with all my might to warm up my body some more. My weary, tired eyes looked around the dark and deserted park, scoping out every square inch of the haunting area. The dim streetlights gave off just enough light to barely illuminate the paved walking path. Over the past few hectic years I have found myself coming here more and more often, patiently sitting down on the same old park bench and waiting for hours into the night. Waiting for her.

She's coming back. She has to come back.

"You probably can't hear me," I whispered into the lonely solitude of the night, "but if you can, mom, I miss you." I closed my eyes gently, fiercely holding back the tears that begged to be let free. They usually worked their way out and came every single god damn night due to the sensitive topic. The conversation from two years before this night is burned into the back of my mind, replaying and breaking me down every chance it gets.

Dad, what's wrong? Why the hell are you crying?

It's your mother. She-

What? What happened?

That's it... we don't know.

I let out a shallow, shaky breath as I opened up my eyes again, staring ahead to the empty area in front of me. I shook my head slightly, questioning why I even came to the spot if I knew what the heart-breaking result was going to be. I always cried. I always realized more and more that my mother wasn't coming back. I always realized that I was waiting all this time for nothing, for no one. Maybe you should just let go already. The words rang like a bad alarm blaring through my mind. The voice inside of my head had told me the same thing over and over again for the longest time, but my stubborn heart wouldn't let go no matter what I said or did. How could I walk away and forget about the woman that had always loved me? How could I let go of that? The answer: I couldn't.

"You know, it's pretty dangerous for a little girl like you to be out here all alone at night." A familiar deep voice chuckled from behind me. I swiftly wiped my blurry eyes with the sleeve of my coat, hastily getting rid of any stray tears that were able to break free from before. The last thing I wanted was for Harry, of all people, to see me so vulnerable.

"Hey, Harry." I breathed, sitting up a little taller. My hearts pace quickened from nervousness an fear as he walked around the bench and gently sat besides me. He sat about a foot away, in nothing but a pair of skinny jeans and a thin, black long-sleeve shirt. He had to be freezing.

"So, what are you doing here all alone at this hour?" His raspy voice asked as his right hand went into his jean pocket. "Did you finally get drunk?" A smirk tugged on his pink lips. His green eyes were glinting with humor as he pulled out a lone, white cigarette.

"No I'm not drunk." I huffed lowly, sending my hot breath into the cold air to mix and collide, causing a white cloud of smoke to appear from my mouth. "I was just thinking." I watched as harry lit the smoke that was now held firmly between his plump lips, the light from the lighter flickering a few times before igniting the paper.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up all night with thoughts of me." Harry chuckled. I snorted loudly at his comment, finding a mixture of humor and disgust at his cocky words. Harry took a long drag of his cigarette, still smiling into the darkness in-front of him.

"Yeah, because I spend all my nights thinking about assholes." I scoffed. I meant for it to be an insult, but Harry just laughed lowly, oddly finding joy in my rude comments and remarks. I wrapped my coat even tighter around my body, making it hug my being tight in a last ditch effort to get warm before going back to my empty home.