entry 365 ➸ harry styles

IX

{ recovery - james arthur }

a/n: this is quite slow paced opposed to previous chapters, but i do want to get across how both harry and myla are changing, and that process in itself is slow. i know it probably seems like these chapters have no structure - but sh*t i have so much planned for this, and there are so many twists and turns i want to take. its still very early days. dont be fooled by their happiness.

happy reading loves. thank you for 200 reads.

id given harry a small nod after he fell back into his chair, acting like he didnt kiss me and acting as though he didnt want to.

the undeniably beautiful waitress made her way over and i admired her. her skin was darker than any touching glance of the sun, it reminded me of late autumn nights. her body fell into curves and when she smiled it lit up the whole surrounding area.

she was simply ethereal.

"what would you like, sir?" she addressed harry, pulling out a notepad and pen. i couldnt help but feel the slightest bit intimidated by her beauty.

"ill have the pasta with sautéed peppers, zucchini, and smoked mozzarella, please" harry politely responded, closing his menu delicately.

destiny nodded whilst writing down his order, "and for you miss?" she challenged and i was fleetingly aware i was actually ordering a meal.

a meal was something i hadnt had in years, i very rarely ate full meals, or at least i avoided doing so, and that was shown through my ebony bones.

"she'll have the same as me" harry quickly jumped in, smiling at the waitress, "and can we have a bottle of your finest wine, please?"  he continued. he grabbed my menu and placed it on top of his, handing it over to destiny.

destiny had given me a concerned look before walking away, im not sure whether it was because of the way harry was being with me or because i didnt even have the energy to speak up.

harry was tapping his fingers mindlessly on the oak table hidden by the blue table cloth, all the while his eyes were locked with my own. he always stared at me, and i couldnt help it was due to the horrific scar that eluded my face.

it was so clear with the way his hungry eyes stared at me, he wanted to kiss my wounds, he just didnt have the heart to treat them.

"harry, you're staring" i quietly cowered and he blinked a few times.

i lowered my head, terrified of how he would respond to my confrontation.

he reached over and placed his fingers under my chin, lifting my head so that i was facing him yet again. his touch was soft and warm, it never usually was.

"because you're beautiful" harry blatantly lied. i was not beautiful, i was the furthest thing from beautiful and he knew it.

his compliments, in an exaggeratedly sad way made my life worth living. you see, these compliments filled up the emptiness inside me, or better yet they replaced the negativity and darkness that was in me and replaced it with light.

i laughed, reaching for his hand that was still located on my chin. i removed it from my chin and found myself holding his hand instead, intertwining my fingers with his.

"im not beautiful" i nervously protested, touching the scar on my face, cringing at the jaggedness it left. "you need to stop telling me these things, because one day i might believe you and start loving you" i cunningly proceeded, folding my arms over my stomach.

harry chuckled under his breath, "i think you've already started".

i frowned at him. my mom always told me that a man who loves you will fight for you, so why was he fighting for me when he made it clear he did not love me? i was wasting my time waiting on love, but it was time i enjoyed wasting.

"you're confusing" i bluntly whispered.

"well, i cant have you knowing too much about me" he fought back and i furrowed my eyebrows in confusion for possibly the hundredth time since id known him.

"why?"

"because you won't ever understand me" he sighed.

understand what? understand what it feels like to lose every single person youve ever cared for? understand the hardship of losing a parent? understand what the true meaning of lonely meant? believe me, harry styles, i knew more than you liked to think. more than you ever anticipated.

i didnt question him, we were in a good place. instead of booming at each other we were actually talking. i did not want to push him.

➸ ➸ ➸

the rest of dinner had gone fine, not perfect, but nothing could ever be perfect with me and harry.

id only managed to forcefully swallow a few bites of my food before i was full on the lovely food, i was grateful though. many people would never get to even smell the wonders of the food i was served; i just couldnt stomach it.

harry on the other hand had finished every bite, every last bite.

i admired the way he carelessly spooned the food into his vile mouth. vile because of the words he sometimes spat.

harry had insisted he was paying for everything, which he did. i felt incredibly guilty for that, too. he even tipped the waitress.

we left the stuffy place and i was greeted with a sharp breeze which pierced my fragile skin, sending shivers down ever bone in my aching body. the wind ran its icy fingers through my hair and i inhaled through my chapped lips.

"can i take you somewhere? in my car?" harry quizzed.

temptation was a devious urgency, there was no way i could say no to his pleading eyes.

"if you must" i replied.

to my surprise he grabbed my hand, weaving me through the people in the streets until we reached his car. chivalry was not dead in his books, he opened the passenger side and waited for me to make myself comfortable before closing it. im almost certain he would've made an attempt to put my seat belt on for me if he knew i wasnt going to argue against it.

he clambered into the drivers seat, adjusting his wing mirror so he could faintly see my eyes.

i wasnt sure where we were headed, but i didnt care as long as i was with him.

entry 09;

dear diary,

happiness doesnt exist, or at least it didnt until i met him.

the harry styles i met in the beginning was intolerable, crude and insensitive. the harry styles im learning to love is everything but that.

im with a lively boy with hope.

but my life is a novel that seems to always end in tragedy.