More than Friends | HARRY STYLES FIC

Chapter Twelve

*HARRY'S P.O.V.*

"Come on, Harry. The plane is about to take off without us on it," Liam raises his voice, snapping two fingers in front of me to break my distant gaze. 

I look up at him, removing my eyes from the window for the first time since we arrived at LAX. I stand up from my seat and begin to walk towards the boarding area without a word. The truth is, I've struggled to find anything to say these past two days. Every sentence on the tip of my tongue has been about her, Laura, every thought too. I guess this is how it feels to have your heart torn in two, a pain I believed I understood before, but never really did until now. Every part of me aches non-stop. Sometimes it's migraines, sometimes it's chest pains. All I know is that I feel entirely empty now, completely lost and unready to head back to our London studio to write. 

"You alright, mate?" Niall asks, sitting across from me as the plane prepares for take off. Behind him I see Liam and Louis' heads peer up, listening in on the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I respond, pulling out my iPod and putting my head phones in, an attempt to signal I'm not up for talking.

"You don't sound or look fine," Niall presses, ignoring my gesture.

I feel the urge to bark at him to leave me alone, but when I prepare to do so I see his eyes filled with concern. "Just not having a good past few days," I vaguely answer, hoping it to be enough.

And it is, as Niall gives me a quick pat on the shoulder before walking off to see the other lads. I pop a Gravol sleep aid in my mouth and swallow it in a loud swoosh. I don't have anxiety about planes or anything, but sometimes they make my stomach turn, and I haven't gotten much sleep these past few nights. I've spent countless wakeful hours, eyes glued to my phone waiting for a call or a text, and listening for a doorbell, but not one peep from her at all. It stings even more that every time I close my eyes, I can hear her laughter and see her pale teal eyes looking up at me the way they did on the train that day. I even see them now as I doze off.

*LAURA'S P.O.V.*

I called in sick again today. It sounds pathetic, but I fully intended on going when I woke up this morning. I even swapped out my baggy t-shirt for a white blouse and black trousers. I gathered all of my documents, textbooks and papers in my briefcase. I was entirely prepared to go, but I didn't. I couldn't. All of the time that I spent getting ready was wasted when I walked into the bathroom, living room and kitchen, and saw that things were exactly how I left them. Jared hadn't come home last night. 

I guess I shouldn't have expected otherwise, but I was hoping when I woke up and he wasn't in bed, that he had slept on the couch and would be in the kitchen drinking coffee. Oddly, I'm more angry than sad. I've paced the halls non-stop for the past hour waiting for him to walk through that door after work. As hypocritical as it is, I can't go another day not knowing if what Harry said is true. 

That's partially what's feeding my upset too; the fact that I told Harry to walk away, the one person that's been nothing but honest, kind and compassionate towards me. Plus, I keep having visions of Jared's sneaky behaviour, the late nights and quiet phone calls that have been going on for much longer than I've known Harry.

I sit down at the table with the lights completely dimmed, aside from the glow coming in from the hallway. I stare at my hands, watching them tremor as tears silently spill down my cheek. I reach for a serviette to wipe them from my face when a creek catches my attention.

"Laura?" Jared's voice calls out in its usual flat, too-cool-for-emotions tone. 

I try to tell him I'm in the kitchen, but I can't calm my nerves enough to manage a word that isn't fowl. Instead, I listen as his footsteps grow nearer. The light flicks on, and through my peripherals I see him standing there, but I keep my eyes straight ahead.