Fire (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 18

The past few days have killed me. My dad came home yesterday and he has barely said a word to me. Well, I’ve barely said a word to him. He stayed at the conference a few days late because apparently he got ‘caught up in work’ leaving me abandoned and on my own. I’ve been going to school, the days just flowed by, I rarely paid attention in classes. My mind was completely pre-occupied with Harry, and more importantly, what I’d done to him. I only got home a few minutes ago. Dad greeted me as usual. I drifted straight up to my room after that though, as I had the days before. Beau and Aubrey had been nice at school. They were the only ones I really talked to anymore, other than Paige. I rarely conversed with the popular kids, not wanting to embarrass myself or intrude. Beau and Aubrey seemed so genuine, like I could tell them anything and they wouldn’t judge me. But most importantly they listened; they didn’t get sidetracked and make silly jokes about it. They listened and responded with genuinely good advice.

I slipped off my restricting uniform and got into my usual pyjamas, tank top and shorts. I switched on the small side lamp next to my bed and pulled down the blind, blocking out all sunlight, not wanting to confront anymore of the day. I slipped into my bed and just lay there, my head propped up on the wooden headboard behind me. This was my daily routine. I hadn’t seen Harry in four days, I prayed that maybe he would forgive me, that maybe he’d come back and just…I don’t know…

I needed someone, I hated just being alone. I had a lot of fucked up feelings going on inside of me, and I just needed to tell someone. When someone asks you “what’s wrong” they don’t expect you to actually tell them. They expect you to say “nothing” and then carry on with their day. I just wanted someone who cared, someone who I could tell everything to, I could tell them how much I miss Harry, how much I crave his smell, his touch, his humour…how much I crave his love. I got up out of my bed and paced my room, searching for an alternative to just wallowing in self-pity. I knew that there were only three girls that could sort this, that could re-arrange my emotions into an order that didn’t involve me crying myself to sleep.

I shimmied out of my grey shorts, pulling on a pair of black jeans and wrapping myself in my black leather jacket, preparing myself for the chill of the late-September air. I marched downstairs and burst into the living room, where my dad sat crossed-legged watching TV. I walked over to him, gave him a hug and sat beside him, placing my palm on his knee. There was a look of surprise and happiness on his face, maybe because he was seeing the real me again.

“I’m sorry Dad. I know I’ve been a bit off recently but-“ He cut me off, switching off the TV with the remote and turning to face me fully.

“No, I’m sorry. You’ve been going through a lot and I left for a week without saying a word.” He finished his sentence with another hug and a comforting pat on the back. A look of bewilderment crossed his face as he surveyed my body, taking in my spontaneous attire. I answered his question before it was asked.

“I’m going to Paige’s, I won’t be too long.” I said, a smile appearing on my face. He gave me a reassuring nod and tilted his head towards the door. He said good-bye with a gentle wave before turning on the TV again and taking a sip out of the mug situated on the table beside him.

An involuntary smile appeared on my face as I opened the door in front of me. I was glad that I had patched at least one relationship.

I stepped outside into the brisk September air and revelled in the feeling of accomplishment, pulling myself out of bed. I began my walk down the street, the few hundred houses and multiple pubs I would pass.

The smell of the autumn leaves and the wet grass infiltrated my nostrils. I loved this time of year, the sound of the birds singing in the trees and the wind weaving in between the leaves. I couldn’t help but smile at the world around me. The sky was turning an orangey colour and the streetlights were beginning to flicker a pinky colour as they warmed up. My hands were clenched inside my pockets, shielded from the brisk wind of the cooling climate.