Fake (Harry Styles)

Chapter 12

  I know I promised myself that I wasn’t going to call him and that he had to call me first, but I am desperate. I don’t like saying it but I am. Desperately in need of a friend, anyone to talk to that would possibly have something helpful to say. I wasn’t going to call him, my finger just pressed call like it was nothing, like I’m breaking a rule I made up. Fingers are stupid, always doing things unplanned or uncoordinated.

“What do you want to talk about?” Harry sounds concerned and it’s adorable.

“My mom is in the hospital and I said I wasn’t going to call you and you would have to call me first but I did anyway and I’m sorry about that. She went into some kind of shock and I can’t call her because she isn’t stable enough to hold conversation or something. And I am in England for some reason that I’m not aloud to know about and it’s to keep me safe so if I go back it isn’t a great decision. I’m sorry I’m ranting on you and you’re going through a hard time so I’m sorry if this is worsening anything that might be going on I just am able to think better if I tell someone my problems. And feel free to tell me anything that you are going through and I promise to listen.” I take exhale after all that and can’t help but smile at the great feeling it is to tell someone my problems.

“I do have some stuff to tell you. But I probably need to tell you in person. Would you come to the park at behind our café?” I nod before realizing he can’t see me.

“Yeah when?”

“Tomorrow around four?” I can tell he’s biting his lip by the way his breathing sounds.

“Sure I’ll be there. Goodnight Harry.”

“Night darling.” And he hangs up. He calls me darling and hangs up to leave me dumbstruck. I furiously blush and blush. Nobody has ever called me darling before, outside of family. I have to pee really bad and throw my phone on the bed, running toward the bathroom. I always ruin the moment.

_________

  The anxiety built up all day. Four-o-clock came all to fast and before I knew it, it was time to start walking to the park. What couldn’t he talk to me about over the phone? I continue to go through every situation I could think of but I can’t think of anything bad really. I didn’t realize I had reached the park until I tripped over the curb and fell. Luckily, I caught myself with my hands, but I did scratch them a bit. No blood was shed but it still tore skin. I wipe off the dirt on my jeans. I clench my teeth as the sensitive skin is rubbed raw.

  Harry is at a little bench area surrounded by bushes. He’s wearing sweats and boots. His hair is a mess and he didn’t try to dress up at all. The bags under his eyes are prominent. He doesn’t notice me standing here until I cough.

Harry’s POV

  I didn’t want to ruin the tree we had a picnic under. It held a sweet memory that I didn’t want to ruin with this possible bad one. This past week has been awful. I haven’t gotten any sleep at all. The cause of my nightmares is based on this whole week. The sleep demons are worse and I can’t think of anything but it.