Between the Pages

twelve

Playlist - i fall apart i find it hard to breathe by lucriowolf5

(A)

I follow behind Harry in my car as he leads me to his house. I can't believe I agreed to stay with him. My judgment had really been misguided - to say the least. Zayn, Harry, my mother, everything was messier than it was supposed to be. Moving here meant a clean slate, that things would be different. Except everything was exactly the same. I still found myself involved with the wrong people, doing the wrong things. I'd ran away from my problems without realizing that they ran faster. Note to self, distance solves absolutely nothing.

My thoughts bring me back to the phone call I'd received the night of the bonfire. It was frightening how quickly my past had caught up to me. The memory of his words from that night nearly makes me nauseous with fear. I try focusing on the winding highway, how Harry's taillights are lighting up the black asphalt, the blurry mess of green the trees create as I drive forward; anything but the sound of his voice. Harry begins decelerating as he turns onto a dirt road and I follow suit. Farther down the road are a few houses - or rather a few mansions - spread out, trees and shrubbery filling in the spaces. Every aspect of the neighborhood screams "expensive" and I'm suddenly thankful that the street is seemingly empty, as I'm certain my beaten down '03 Chevy Malibu would look out of place. We reach the end of the road when Harry finally pulls to a stop. The house we park in front of is one of the largest - if not the largest - houses on the block. The exterior of the house is a mix of tan, white, and beige bricks in most places and plain white paint everywhere else. The driveway goes uphill until it forms into a ledge framed, with a rock wall as its barrier. A perfectly manicured lawn surrounds the house along with bright magenta flowers, and small shrubs. The house itself emits light from its many windows, seeming to glow with the night sky as its background. It's stunning.

When I tear my eyes away from the gorgeous house I find Harry waiting by my car door. I quickly unbuckle my seat belt, and exit my Malibu. Although my car is the only thing I feel safe touching around here. I run my hands through my hair nervously before turning to face Harry.

"Your house is nice, like really nice. Like I'm afraid I'm going to break something or everything nice," My hands tangle themselves in my hair again, punctuating my nervous babbling. Harry shrugs in response, his eyes leaving mine and landing on his home. I shift anxiously from foot to foot, regretting this decision with every passing second. What if his parents are home? Are they going to be okay with me here? Dear god the ground practically f-cking sparkles I can't do-

Harry interrupts my panicked thoughts. "It's really not that great. Come on we should go inside, it's getting cold," Now that he mentions it, I notice the chilling wind and the goosebumps its raised on my arms. Harry reaches out towards me, only to pull back. He does this about five times as we walk up his driveway, before grabbing onto my wrist in an attempt to lead me in the right direction. Which I now realize was the opposite direction of which I was headed. Harry drags me to what I assume is a side entrance, as it looks like a small replica of the doors I was walking towards. When the door opens, I don't get the chance to admire the interior of the house. I'm too preoccupied with not tripping as Harry yanks me up the staircase, at what could arguably be a light sprint. When we reach the top he lets go of his hold on me. I attempt to catch my breath without sounding like a panting dog. "Sorry about erm - that. I just didn't want to run into my parents,"

I nod in understanding despite my lack of actually understanding why he didn't want to see his parents. If it was because I was here, I'd feel bad for making him lie to his family. Harry didn't seem like the type to do that often. However, for some reason I had the feeling I wasn't the cause for his impromptu cardio workout. I pushed down my curiosity figuring that if Harry wanted to talk about it, he would. Harry motions for me to follow him before walking down the long hallway. The inside of his house - or at least the upstairs - was equally as stunning as the outside. My fingers traced the textured wallpaper as we continued through the hallway. A few pictures of whom I assumed to be Harry's parents were on the walls, but none of the curly haird boy himself. I frown at the idea that someone wouldn't want to put up pictures of little Harry. There was no doubt in my mind that he'd been an absolutely adorable child, all dimples and big green eyes.