Beautiful Disaster (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 39

- HI YOU GUYS! PLEASE TELL ME THERE ARE STILL A FEW OF MY READERS WHO ARE STILL HOOKED TO THIS STORY AND MOST IMPORTANTLY THEY DO UNDERSTAND MY SITUATION! ): 

PLEASE STAY WITH ME AS I TRY TO WRITE A NEW CHAPTER WHENEVER I GET TIME BECAUSE I KNOW THAT A FEW OF YOU OUT THERE LOVE MY STORY AND I REALLY WANT YOU GUYS TO STICK AROUND, REALLY. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE WAIT, EVERY DAMN TIME. I MAKE NO NEW PROMISES BUT I ASK FOR ALL YOUR PATIENCE AND LOVE AND SUPPORT.  

THANK YOU, ENJOY! x

Harry's P.O.V 

I smile as I walk out of the kitchen, leaving Rebecca behind. I don't like when I do that to her, not that she needs me around all the time, but I feel responsible when it comes to Rebecca. She's my...she's someone really special. The smile won't leave my face when I think of Rebecca, it tells me that she means the world to me, I love having her around. I gulp when the negative thoughts comes rushing to my mind, making me stop in my way. I can't be good enough for her, ever.  

She's Rebecca, someone who cares about people, someone who is proud of what and who she is. But I don't want her to stop being her proud self when she knows the real me, the side and part of me that sucks and would make her terribly sad. I shake my head, looking towards the table, obviously finding it empty. All my friends were probably outside the diner, I walk out only to see Zayn leaning next to my car with both his hands in his pocket, waiting for me.  

"You just can't get enough of her, can you, you sick bastard?", I hear his voice and I shake my head. This guy is always right. Yes, I can't get enough of Rebecca, my Rebecca but I also can't shake those words telling me that I wasn't good enough for her, which might even be true.  

I shrug, pushing my hand in my pocket, digging deep for the fucking key, "She's...she's something." 

"She's fucking special man, it's easy to say when you know what she really means to you.", there he goes again, being my shrink. 

I raise an eyebrow tossing the keys towards him, "You're driving.", I mostly did this to change the damn topic where I was being grilled about Rebecca and my relationship.  

I like her, I really, really like her but I know I'm not good enough. She deserves better, and soon enough she's going to realize that too and then she's going to pout and tell me that she was much more than what I could give her, much more than that. 

Walking towards the passenger seat, I gulp when I dig inside of my jeans. I still have the fucking note that she left at her place and that's when I realized I was screwed, I was in deep shit. Folding it nicely between my hands, I secure it inside my fist. Zayn honks making me jump, I quickly open the door making myself comfortable in the seat, and I'm so used to driving that this seat bites me. 

I sigh, hitting my head over the back of the seat, over and over again. Zayn turns the music up, which doesn't bother me. I could see him touching the radio but I didn't snap at him what I would normally do, but I was too busy with my own thoughts. 

Zayn turns the shit down again, and lets out a soft laugh, "Is this real life?" 

"I know, right? Fuck.", I instantly say. 

The laugh becomes louder, making me angry as I hit my head harder over the seat. Moments like this, I just wish I had a punching bag and I punched it till it shattered.  

Zayn makes an annoying noise with his tongue clicking, over and over again. He sighs after a while finally giving up, "What the fuck is wrong with you, man?" 

I open my fist and the paper bounces. Zayn furrows his brows and shrugs, "And this is?" 

A part of me desperately wanted to have some fun, "That's a letter."