Terrible Things (Harry Styles Love Story)

Chapter Thirty

December...

Harry's POV.

What. The. Actual. Fuck. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? The night I gave up on her, she gave up on herself. What the fuck. I never fucking gave up on her though. So, I did the only thing I could think of doing. And I called her.

The phone rang. The first ring... the second... the third... the fourth... Shit. Voicemail. I called again. The first ring... the second... the third... the fourth... voicemail. I got up and took my keys as I redialed her phone number. Voicemail. I startedy car and pulled out of my spot. And I dialed her number again. Nothing. I drove fast to her house. I don't know why I was so nervous... or was it scared? I don't know. I called her again, and the moment when I got her voicemail, I got to her house. I parked right in her driveway and rang the doorbell. No response. I called her again. but I only got her voicemail. I rang her doorbell some more.

I paced back and forth and tried to remember something that Diana had told me about a key. I tried to remember, but I couldn't. She tried to tell me but I was tuning out. Shit. The key was hidden somewhere. I looked everywhere that a key would be. The mailbox, under their doormat. But nothing.

And then I began to think of her and how badly I fucked shit up. I basically called her a whore. Like what the fuck. She's not even close to a whore. Far from it, actually. She's the best person I've ever met. She loves handwritten letters, reading, movies, and everything in between. She loves the way I pout when I'm upset. I let her in. I final,y fucking let someone in, and it's her. And I'm screwing everything up. I'm screwing her up. She's just a... kind of, beautiful child in a way. It's like, there's a part inside of her that she refuses to let go of. It's weird though, she loves the dark, but her smile is so bright sometimes that she can just make everyone else arouond her smile. She loves the dark... Oh my god.

I jumped up and went back onto the sidewalk. I looked at the front of the house and looked at every single window. Then I quickly smiled as I went to the only window that was half covered. I reached under the wall part the pertruded out from the outside of the house. I felt under it and waited until I felt it. I felt the cold metal and felt the tape that kept it up. I removed the key and quickly ran to the door and unlocked it.

Quickly, I ran up the stairs and attempted to open the door. But it was locked. I jiggled the door knob some more. "Diana, please, open the door. Diana!" I yelled.

Within a few seconds, the door opened, and Diana, with messed up hair, in pajamas opened the door. "What are you doing here?" she asked, letting me into her room.

"What am I doing here? Diana, we need to talk."

She scoffed and crossed her arms. "Yeah, no duh. But I don't know if that's such a good idea."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why not?" I asked.

She sighed. "Because the last time I tried to 'talk', you basically called me a whore."

I closed her door and led her to sit on her bed. "Listen, that's why I came here. I came to tell you that I was sorry. I didn't mean it the way that it came out... I promise. I just, I didn't know what I was saying. I wasn't thinking. Also, I completely overreacted with the whole Zayn thing. You guys are over. I get it. But it just hurts thinking that you've been with other guys. And um, I apologize."

She smiled at me. "Apology accepted."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you," I said, hugging her.

She smiled at me - that bright smile. The one that made everyone around her so happy. The smile that I've grown fond of.

"I love you," I said.

And she spoke the words back to me. "I love you, Harry."