Pick Up These Broken Pieces (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Off to London (Chapter 13)

hay gurl hay! so i think that this is a very insignificant update, but thats okay, because its better than nothing for three weeks. hopefully. vote/comment/fan! i fan back always!

ELLIOT POV

For the first time in a day, I got up from my bed. I paced around the emptiness, sounds of silence and emptiness echoing through my head at a million miles a minutes.

I took in deep breaths, trying to spit them out without thinking of him. I pulled my hair up into a messy loop, a few blonde strands falling out in front of my face.

It wasn't normal for me to act this way. Sure, I would take the subway from Coney Island to Rockefeller, stand in the middle of Times Square when I felt down; but this was different.

I did those things back there because I needed time to think, process things going and out of my mind, get some things out of my system. Here, I simply didn't think. I couldn't think, I just stayed there motionless, it was creeping myself out of my head.

There wasn't any thinking that I needed to do in order to calm myself down, pick a side or make a judgment. There were only two options, take one and suffer from the other.

Either it was listen to Mark to prevent whatever he had up his sleeve or admit myself to Harry. Not both, no compromise, just a choice.

I was still confused though, I still didn't know how I felt about him. Did I like him? Did I not? What if I went with Harry, only to regret it afterwards? How was I supposed to "follow my heart" if I didn't even know what it wanted?

It was probably harder for me to understand myself than for me to understand another person. Even Harry.

I sunk into the bed, burying myself in the covers once again. I wasn't tired, I wasn't hiding, there was just no other place to be. I heard a knock on the door. "Mac & cheese?"

I laugh and look into his deep green eyes. "For breakfast?"

Harry chuckles to himself. "Just made it, come on who can resist?" he places the breakfast-in-bed serving tray on both sides of my legs. I smelt the warm aroma of the homemade macaroni and cheese. "Just this once."

He takes his hand and wipes a few stray strands of flying hair out of my face, cradling it on my face. "You didn't even get out of this bed yesterday." he says.

I laugh to myself. "Yeah, I didn't."

We both paused, lost in our own minds for a few moments. 

Two days ago, we were in the piano room singing together, admitting things to each other that I honestly wouldn't imagine telling anyone else. But for some twisted reason, I felt safe telling him.

"Elle?"

"Mhm?"

"What's wrong?"

He could read me so well. "What? No! Nothing's wrong, I'm just- um, really, really tired." I say, letting a yawn pass.

Harry laughs. "Not even an extremely tired human being would sleep for 36 hours straight, nice try, Carter."

"Okay, first, I so did not stay here for 36 hours. And second, are you saying I'm not human?"

"Are you quoting Harry Styles from the Adventurous Adventures of One Direction?" he asks in his husky British accent. 

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am."

"Well then why don't you ask what your four nipples what they think, maybe that will give you a clue!" he whispers in my ear, making me laugh. "Now eat your Mac & Cheese."