Annabel Smith
My hands were clammy and my legs were shaking. How could one person possibly make me so nervous?
Harry and I sat side by side on the rooftop of his flat, over-looking the city of London. It truly was a beautiful sight.
The sun was just setting and there was a calm, cool breeze, making the air just right. Colours of pink and orange and purple shot throughout the sky; a few puffy clouds lingering above the horizon.
We were both silent for a while. Just enjoying the beauty. Letting the tension settle down.
It wasn't that it was awkward, because honestly, it wasn't. Yeah, Harry and I may have not spoken for four months and yeah, we both might have rediculous feelings for each other, but nothing was awkward. Which is an extremely good thing in my eyes.
I was just nervous.
Nervous as to what was going to happen, between Harry and I. Nervous that things would go back to how they were, or just being friends. I could handle that, just being friends with Harry.
But let's face it. That's not what I wanted.
I wanted Harry. I wanted to be able to call him mine. I was only hoping he felt the same.
Suddenly, Harry let out a huge sigh, still looking out into the sky.
"I'm sorry," he breathed out sincerely.
I looked at him questionably. "For what?"
"Just.. everything. For giving up just like that. For not contacting you. And especially for letting my stupid emotions get to me and reveal everything to the world. I'm just sorry. Really." he looked over at me, directly in my eyes.
In that moment, I allowed myself to get lost in them, everything pouring in all at once. I let myself lose time in his sea-like orbs of blue and green. That familiar flutter in my stomach and tingling sensation crept through my body. My heart began to race, and I could've swore he could hear it.
"I should be the sorry one." I finally muttered back, feeling completely guilty for ever even rejecting him, although a part of me knew it had to be done.
Have you ever heard the saying, "If you love them, let them go. If they come back, it was meant to be?"
Well, here he was standing in front of me. Harry Styles. The boy I was sure I loved. He obviously didn't lose those feelings. So that had to mean something.
"No, don't say that. I deserved to hear every word you said. This is all my fault." he shook his head.
"Stop, this isn't just your fault. It's both of ours. I was just mad and everything that I held in spilled out! You didn't deserve that..." I trailed off, thinking about the last time we spoke.
"But I did." he said quietly, causing me to look up and meet his eyes again. "I was such a jerk, Annabel. I never even noticed what was right in front of me. I never realized the signals. I was blinded by someone that wasn't even important. I hurt you. And there's no taking that back. I just wish there was a way you could forgive me."
I was at a loss for words. I had absolutely no clue how I was suppose to respond to that. I was just asking myself one question:
Did I forgive Harry?
I tried so hard to be that hard-headed person. Normally, I was. I was the type of person to always think I was right, even when I was wrong. Everything had to be precise and planned for me. I was picky. That was just me.
