Terrible Things (Harry Styles Love Story)

Chapter Thirty - Five

January...

"So that was all you?" Harry asked hesitantly.

I nodded slowly as I picked up a picture of me with some guy that I couldn't recognize. He was so lost in my memory that I didn't even know I once knew him. Well, I must've known him if I was sucking his face off. "Yeah... this was me," I said, dropping the picture back onto the bed. I ran my hands through my hair frustratedly. "I - I just need to find out who I was and why I felt the need to do all of this." I gestured to the layout of pictures in front of me.

He picked up one picture - one that I silently prayed that he wouldn't pick up. "What's this?" he asked, taking in the picture from every angle. But he soon came to the realization. "Is this?" he trailed off.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah... it is," I said, taking the picture out of his hand. Just seeing me with him - kissing him.

"Tell me about it - that night, I mean," he said, pointing to the picture of Zayn and me.

I hesitated. "I don't think that-"

But he cut me off. "Tell me."

Taking a deep breath, I debated whether or not I should tell him. If I refused, he'd get upset. If I agreed, he'd get upset. I couldn't win in any situation. So, I did.

"That night... hm. Well, what do you wanna know about it?" I asked, attempting to stall as much as possible.

Harry bit down on his lip, taking in the metal ring. He let it pop out, the metal shining against the light in my room. "Everything."

I was afraid that he was going to say that. "Okay. So, that night. Well, uh, it's kind of hard to remember. It was summer. I was kind of messed up for the most part." But it was a lie. If there was anything I remembered from the summer, it was that night. And it stuck in my memory like a cloud would stick to the sky on a rainy day. It just wouldn't leave.

"Tell me whatever you can remember, because I know that you remember a lot. It's impossible to forget something like a summer fling," he said dryly.

Of course he knew that I was lying. "Okay. Well, that morning... It kind of started like a normal morning in the summer. I woke up around three in the afternoon due to being completely wasted the previous night. Um, and it was the day after Zayn and I, we'd um-"

"Fucked?" Harry cut my off, avoiding eye contact.

I cleared my throat. "Uh, yeah. That. Um, well, and Zayn had met me in the kitchen by the time I woke up. My mom didn't think of him like she once thought of you. His tattoos and piercings didn't bother her for God knows what reason. But anyways, She and Zayn were talking when I came in. We ate what my mom cooked and Zayn and I went back upstairs to what was my room that time."

Harry finally looked back at me.

"He helped me get ready for the last party that we ever went to together. Of course, we didn't know that things were going to go so wrong - well, maybe he did, but I didn't. So I wore this," I said, gesturing to the picture.

"That night," I continued, "he'd asked me why my style became more reserved over the summer, but I just told him that there was no reason."

"Was there? A reason, I mean," Harry asked curiously.

His question caught me off guard. I kind of just expected him to listen. "Uh, I don't really know," I said honestly.

Harry nodded, signaling for me to continue in with my story.

"Well, we went to um, a party - I can't remember whose it was... it might've been one of his friend's parties. But it was big - supposed to be the biggest party of the year. So, most of the time we did what we always did at parties. We saw people we knew, drank, smoked a little - nothing too serious. It became an everyday thing. Then, we'd sort of dismiss the people we knew, and we'd use that spot to well, make out."