Idiosyncrasy (Harry Styles AU)

Twenty-two

Chapter 22

Bethany

“True or false; kidney function is closely related to blood pressure.”

“True.”

Harry smiles. “Good. Now define dialysis.”

As I rattle off the definition, Harry watches me closely. I desperately want to know what he’s thinking, so I stop and lean forward on my elbows.

“What are you thinking?”

I’ve been told that when you ask a guy that question, he’ll make something up to please you. But when Harry speaks, I know he’s telling the truth.

“I was wondering what your real hair color is,” he mumbles, reaching out to tuck a strand of my vibrant blue hair behind my ear.

I push his hand away jokingly. “Now look who’s distracted, Mr. Styles,” I giggle.

He rolls his eyes, retracting his hand. “No, seriously. What’s your natural hair color?”

I smile, playing with the pen in my hand. “Shit brown. I get tired of it a lot so I dye it unnatural colors,”

He smirks. “I’d like to see it on you.”

I blush a bit. “Let’s get back to studying, Harry.” I shove him playfully, laughing.

“What if I don’t want to?” he pouts, crossing his arms and leaning back into his seat.

‘Then we’ll take a break.” I stand, grabbing my coat. “Let’s take a walk.”

Something crosses his face; worry, maybe? But it soon disappears as quickly as it came, and he nods slightly.

“Let me get something first,” he says, standing and vanishing into his bedroom.

I wait by the door until he reappears again.

Smiling, he puts on his coat and shoes, and then we go out the door together.

“You think it’s okay to leave the cat family here alone?” Harry asks, locking his front door.

I shrug. “We won’t be gone long.”

When we get outside, the cold air hits us like a slap in the face. I wrap my coat around myself tighter as we walk through the parking lot. Thank God it’s not windy, or else I would have immediately suggested that we go back inside.

“Oh my God,” Harry breathes, mouth gaping open at something in front of him.

He takes off running, stopping in front of his car.

I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand.

His car has been vandalized. The windshield is cracked, the sides have been scraped, and the tires are slashed.

“Harry,” I gasp, grabbing his arm. “Who did this?”

He shakes his head, groaning and kicking a tire in frustration.

“I don’t know,” he mutters. But by looking in his eyes, I can tell he’s lying.

I hold Harry’s hand tightly as we wait for the officer to return in his office.

Harry hadn’t wanted to come here, saying that we didn’t need to take it to the police. But I insisted; and here we are.

“Harry,” I whisper, squeezing his hand a bit.

He looks up at me, eyes still angry.

“Are you okay?”

He sighs through his nose, looking away then shrugging. “I don’t know,” he mutters.

I give him a sad smile, and then look up as the office door opens and a tall, middle aged officer approaches us.

“The damage to the car was not too extensive, as you know,” he starts, sitting down in the chair opposite us. “But we can’t track the culprits without any evidence. They left no finger prints, or anything else. Whoever did this is an expert and knew what they were doing.”

Harry sighs, nodding like he knew all of this already. “Thank you, officer. I’ll tell you if I find out anything else.” He shakes his hand, and then sighs again.

“Likewise. Have an otherwise nice afternoon,” the officer says with a smile.

We exit the room, still hand in hand.

“I told you that wouldn’t solve anything,” Harry mutters, walking with me back out to my car.

All the way home, Harry is silent. And as I steal a glance at him, I find that he’s trembling and his jaw is tense.

“Harry, it’s going to be okay. You can fix your car; your insurance can cover it—.”

“No! It’s not going to be okay,” he snaps. “I’m not worried about the fucking car, I’m worried about . . .” He trails off, mumbling something to himself.

“What are you worried about, Harry?” I ask tentatively.

“Nothing.”

“Harry, you can’t keep doing that. We’re friends now and friends tell each other what’s on their minds,” I say, pulling into the parking lot of Harry’s apartment.

He runs a hand through his disheveled curls. “I can’t tell you,” he mutters. “I can’t tell anybody.

I sigh, and then climb out of the car.

“Stop being difficult,” I tell him through gritted teeth.

He slams the car door, ignoring me and storming up to the door of the building.

I run to catch up with him. “Harry!”

“Bethany!” he shouts, whirling around. His eyes are wild and flaming. I hate it when his anger is directed toward me. It makes me feel small and insignificant.

I back down, looking away from his black eyes.

He groans. “Beth, I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he says, voice much softer.

I don’t look up.

He steps toward me, placing his index finger under my chin and pulling it up to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats in a whisper.

I blink, not replying.

“I just can’t tell you.”

I nod in understanding, and he lets my chin go, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“I’ll see you later, Harry,” I say with a slight smile.

He nods and then pulls me into his arms. I slowly wrap my own arms around his torso, hugging him back. He smells of cigarettes and peppermint, a perfect combination.

Minutes pass before we pull away, and the entire way home I crave to feel his embrace again.

_____

So I didn't think that I was gonna update this week, but our trip to Arkansas got canceled, so here I am. Sorry if it sucks :P

DON'T FORGET TO COMMENT!

(Arms by Christina Perri at the side because I thought it went with the chapter ;)

WHAT THE FUCK I HAD TO PUT THIS UP AGAIN BECAUSE WATTPAD IS A FUCKING PRICK AND ITS MAKING ME PISSED TO THE MAX OK WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?!?!?!?! I LOST ALL THE READS ON THESE THREE CHAPTERS IM GOING TO CRY