“That as well,” he agreed. I met his gaze for a millisecond. As well? There was something else that could be tied to this that’s considered a big deal? “I’m not kidding when I say I love you. And I meant everything I said. But I know you’re in a fragile place right now. I know you’re probably kind of mixed up and I know I’m not helping with that. And I would love nothing more than to kiss you, but I have to kind of look out for myself on this one. I don’t want to be your rebound. I don’t want to be that guy for you. It’s going to get my hopes up and then it’s going be that much harder on me when you do back to Niall. I just…I need to look out for myself…you know?”
“What makes you so certain Niall is going to take me back?” I asked, addressing the only thing I could wrap my mind around at the moment.
“Because, Bee, I know,” he sighed heavily. He ran his hands through his hair and sat down on the foot of the bed. “Everyone knows. Even he knows it. He would never in a million years let you go if he thought it was permanent. He loves the living shit out of you and you love the living shit out of him.”
“Just the other night you asked if you could kiss me,” I pointed out, still avoiding the more pressing topics at hand.
“Yeah, that was before the whole Niall fiasco and me pouring my soul out to you,” Harry said. “Things are different now. True, I’m mostly doing this for me, but I’m also doing this for you.”
“Why would you confess all of those things to me if you don’t want me to react?” I asked. I could feel myself about to cry.
“Oh, I do want you to react,” Harry countered. “I want you to know so you can think it over…process everything. Soak everything in. If you do that, if you really take the time to think things over and do some reevaluating, and you still want to kiss me, call me. I’ll take the next flight out to see you. But if you’re done reevaluating and you conclude you’re meant to be with Niall—as I know you will—then I don’t want you to have any regrets or guilt going back into it.”
Crying. Just silently crying, staring down at him, with my world shaken.
How am I supposed to respond to that? I had no idea what to think or what to do. Part of me felt rejected but part of me also felt relieved, like Harry was letting me off the hook. Part of me was annoyed with him but the other part of me was eternally grateful. Half of my brain was still itching to kiss him while the other half wanted to throttle him.
It’s very confusing to be me sometimes. And sometimes you’re left without any words. And sometime you’re left with the only words your body will permit.
“I just wanted to kiss you,” I sniffled and then plopped down next to him, my head hanging and my fingers interlocked in my lap. I know, I’m very eloquent.
“I know,” he smirked. He pulled my head onto his shoulder and wrapped his arm around me. “Don’t feel bad. You’re not the first.”
“And I won’t be the last.”
“Yeah, well, I hope you’re right.”
This was obviously stupid of him to say because I could probably knock on the door of the room next to us and whoever answered probably had a high chance of wanting to kiss Harry. He wasn’t exactly lacking in people that wanted to kiss him.
YOU ARE READING
Scribbles (A Niall Horan fan fiction)
Ficção AdolescenteLet me break this down for you, Diary, because I think you'll take my side on this one. In which Bailey discusses her new school, the new continent she now lives on, the group of boys she has resorted to calling the Foxy Five, and her ongoing strugg...