Luna and the Moon [H.S]

6: explanation?

I woke up early this morning, removing the remainder of the black eyeliner and mascara that I failed to take off last night. The bags under my eyes looked even worse with the smudged make up. My bath was relaxing and managed to stop my wandering mind rethinking about the events of last night and the memories that resurfaced after so long.

I never fail to think about that night with Bella, I was such a bitch to her and she saw me run away from a terrible situation she was in — the potential life ending situation she was in. That situation is the reason I lost all my friends, I made the situation worse and made my friends runaway from me. I always brought up my "theory" that Mitchell did it and they thought I was guilt tricking myself after I hit her at the party before he died, or that I was going crazy. After that they told me to stop hanging out with them and I never had friends after that.

I should never had agreed to go to that party with Harry last night, I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea, I should have known it would make me think all about that terrible night. I just need to remember to apologise to Harry for ditching him so soon, I hadn't even been at that party for an hour.

Harry hadn't called or text today and it was now lunch time, I couldn't help but pick away at my already chipped nail polish and stare at my phone's black screen. Maybe he's ignoring me, angry that I ditched and didn't even say goodbye when I did so. Maybe he's hurt, his wild drunken self couldn't handle the booze and got hurt. Maybe he's still asleep, that option I believe more.

I'm not sure why I'm so hung up on being around Harry, I mean I met him a couple days ago and suddenly I've become clingy as if I am his girlfriend of two years. I barely know the guy, other than what he's told me of course. We met in a coffee shop round the corner from my work, I sat on his table without invitation because his demeanour reminded me of myself, we spoke and I obviously annoyed him and vice versa. The next day he wants to hang out and I ignored him due to my parents funeral, then we're on a call together late at night and his voice helps me fall asleep. Then he invites me to a party as his... Well friend I guess, and I ditch after being there for less than an hour.

I've known him all of three days, met him twice, yet I act like this. Like I've known him years and we're the best of friends. It's odd, but I like the guy. Not only because he is insanely attractive but because he understands me, he said himself he's not got many friends the friends he has are more like people you go to parties with and ditch half way through the night. Which I guess I know now considering he did exactly that last night. Him and I are almost too similar, but I like it.

The pasta shells I was boiling began to bubble and exactly at the same time a knocking on my front door startled me. I decided to finish up the pasta before getting the door, whoever was on the other side growing rather impatient as two more times they knocked harder than before.

I yanked the door open ready to cuss out whoever was desperately wanting my attention and there stood — to my complete and utter shock — a very flustered looking Harry. His cheeks were rosy, the tip of his nose was bright red and his shoulders shook slightly from the cold outside. The weather drastically changed since yesterday morning, it's wasn't just drizzly rain and gusts of wind anymore, it was hailstones and continuous bursts of wind through the air. I didn't mind, this kind of weather was my favourite especially because it's so close to Christmas now, but it was a little too cold to go walking the streets which I'm pretty sure is where Harry has been.

I ushered him inside to warm up, ignoring the nagging question in my head which was what is he doing here? He smiled thankfully at me as I gave him a mug of hot chocolate and wrapped a thick fluffy blanket around his shoulders. He's stupid to be out in this weather with a hoodie and ripped jeans on, what an idiotic move. "What are you doing here?" I asked, handing him a bowl of cheesy pasta, I had my own bowl there was hardly any in our bowls because it was originally for one person.