Secrets

Going Crazy

Harry's P.O.V.

I've literally been knocking on the door to her flat for an hour. I know she is in there, the hushed moving around inside giving it away.

"Blaire, please. We need to talk." I say for the thousandth time.

Honestly, I'm scared. Scared of loosing her, scared of what she might do, scared of what I might do if she shuts me out.

"Come on, Blaire. Give me a chance to explain."

Still, nothing.

I keep knocking and knocking and knocking, and I plan to continue until the door is open.

30 minutes later, I'm in the same position as before. My knuckles are red, with my hand throbbing slightly. My foot is numb from kicking it against the door repeatedly.

"Please Blaire, I need to see you." I say barely above a whisper.

What am I supposed to do? Wait?

But wait for what? Nothing?

My body is exhausted from standing for what feels like hours, and my head is pounding from the noise I've been making.

Sighing, I turn and slide down the door. Might as well sit, I have no idea how long I will be out here.

It amazes me how quiet someone can be when they try hard enough. I have not heard the smallest amount of sound come from the walls surrounding her. What could she be up to?

The longer I sit here, the more I begin to worry. The more I begin to worry, the more exhausted I become.

My eyelids feel as though they are one hundred pounds, getting heavier by each passing second.

Before I know it, I am deep in sleep on the hard floorboard beneath me.

________________________

Blaire's P.O.V.

The knocking has stopped, leaving me wondering where Harry went.

I've been curled up on my bed, thinking, for the hours he has been pounding on the hollow object.

He has been pleading and pleading, each call for me becoming more strained.

Why does he care?

Does he even care?

I try to convince myself he does, but my heart is having a hard time listening.

If he cared for you, he would not have gotten drunk with other girls.

I don't know why it hurts, I don't like him in that way. Or at least, I'm trying not to.

It's been a year of trying to get over Zach, and after a week I suddenly am able to forget? All because of Harry?

I cannot let that happen. I cannot put my heart out there, only to be broken again.

I shake myself from my thoughts as stomach reminds me of the fact I haven't eaten all day. There is nothing in my pantry that sounds appetizing, going to get something is my only option.

I grab my coat along with my phone, and make my way to the door.

The door creaks open slowly, and I peek out to make sure there is no sign of him. The halls are clear, like I was hoping, but I can't help to feel disappointed.

I'm not sure if my mind is playing tricks on me, or if I just going crazy, but I swear I hear the faintest sound of breathing. No one is around in the hall, which does not help my explanation at all. Crazy.

As I step outside my cozy flat into the hallway, I hear it again. It almost sounds like snores. Again, as I look around, no one is to be seen. I hear it again, and again. The strange thing is the sound is not coming from above, but below. My ears are filled with the sound, yet my mind tells me I'm loosing it.

I look down to lock the door, but end up looking at a head full of brown curls instead. There he is, Harry, laid flat out on the floor in a deep sleep.

The soft snores continue, and I realize I'm not the crazy one here.