Words (Harry Styles AU)

03

I've been here for a week. No one has even called to see how I'm doing.

I stared at the two simple sentences that seemed to hold so much emotion. This was one of the first melancholy entries I had come across in the journal. All of the other notes had consisted of random to-do lists, sketches, and more coffee recipes, which made finding this one a surprise. Why hasn't anyone called to check up on this person? I remembered the first entry, where it had claimed that this city was the person's escape. I guessed that he or she was in New York for university, but it seemed like there was another reason for their arrival.

Other than intrigue, I also felt a wave of compassion for this person. It was obvious they were unhappy and lonely. I also felt a tinge of anger towards whomever they were hoping would call them but didn't.

Riley's trial was today. They asked me to make an appearance but there's no way in hell I'm ever going back to that town. She wasn't convicted of murder, but she was put under probation and lost her license for drunk driving.

She probably hates me now. Right before I left, I yelled at her and broke up with her. I remember everything I said...

"You killed her!" I screamed at Riley, who shrunk into the hospital bed. She remained completely silent. We technically didn't know if it was a girl or a boy, but I had always wanted to have a daughter.

The word 'killed' was written in bold and underlined multiple times, a jagged hole running under it, like the page had ripped open from a pen being stabbed into it from pure anguish.

I remember I was hit with a strong wave of anger mixed with grief, and I couldn't stop the words that flowed out of my mouth, or the tears that rapidly fell down my face.

"You fūcking knew, and you killed her," I was sobbing. "You're not the same girl I fell in love with. I don't love this ignorant, drug-addict Riley who's never sober and cheats on her boyfriend whenever she's bored. We're over!"

I remember running out of the white hospital room, feeling slightly guilty that I had shouted at her while she clearly was in physical pain from her broken leg, but the guilt was overshadowed by hatred, betrayal, anger, and sorrow. I packed my things and never looked back.

That was the worst day of my life.

My mouth dropped open in shock. Whom did this Riley person kill? The journal owner knows a murderer? What did I just read?

I slammed the journal closed, suddenly realizing the multitude of how wrong it was for me to read this person's darkest secrets.

All of my sudden, my small apartment was way too small and I desperately needed fresh air. It was already ten o'clock on a Friday night, but I grabbed my bag and spontaneously headed out the door anyways.

I welcomed the chilly wind that bit my cheeks and turned them a light pink as I walked down the busy streets. I looked around and admired the tall buildings and bright lights, trying to distract myself from the disheartening journal entry. It was obviously an event that haunted the journal owner, and I felt an enormous amount of guilt for reading such a personal memory.

I didn't where I was going until I reached the coffee shop, the fluorescent "OPEN" sign hurting my eyes. The familiar bell rang throughout the quiet space, signalling my arrival. There was muted background music playing, and the lights were dim since all of the candles on the tables were lit. I walked over to the counter and ordered a hot chocolate, keeping my voice down as to not disturb the tranquil atmosphere.

There was only one other customer in the store, and they occupied the table in the corner where I sat on the first day. I got my hot chocolate and walked towards the vacant table next to them. My eyes widened when I recognized the unruly brown hair that spilled out of his gray beanie: it was the same man that had caught me staring at him.