change. (harry styles)

Chapter Fifty-Five.

ella is on the side kay

Chapter 55.

Ella's POV

Almost a month later, I was finally moved into Harry's house, despite how he's been since we were in New York.

I was clinging on to him by a thread, hoping that one day he'd come back to me, but he's just so distant. He hardly ever looks at me, never touches me, and hasn't told me he loved me since the night we made love.

Every single night, I have cried myself to sleep after Harry has drifted off, because he stays on his side of the bed, and it's almost as if I'm some kind of poison if he touches me.

I'm slowly crumbling, but I had to stay strong.

I didn't know what was wrong, so all I had to go on was the thoughts swarming in my head, and the only one that stuck with me was that he was tired of me.

That he had gotten what he wanted in the first place, so he didn't love me anymore.

Did he ever even love me?

I sighed as I woke up, and Harry was still in the bed. Usually, when I woke up for school, he would already be awake doing who knows what, and then would drive us to school when I'm ready and drive us home in silence.

But today was Saturday, so I guess he was sleeping in.

I pushed the blanket off of me and stood up, walking to the closet and opening it, pulling out a sweater and then getting jeans from my set of drawers. Once I had pulled Harry's shirt off of me, I slipped into my clothes and only brushed my hair before putting my Vans on and grabbing my phone, making my way to the living room.

I sat down on the couch and waited patiently for Harry to wake up, but it wasn't good for me to sit in silence anymore with Harry acting like this. Because all I did was add more scenarios in my head of Harry not loving me and what I could have done.

Maybe I just wasn't good enough for him.

After an hour of Harry not getting up, I made my way to the kitchen and had to climb on top of the countertop just to get to the coffee cups, but as I pulled two down, two glasses came down with it and crashed into the floor, causing a loud noise, and a piece of glass to go into the skin of my leg as I fell off the countertop.

I winced in pain as I limped a little bit away from the pile of glass to look at my leg that was now bleeding and the red was running down my shin, staining my jeans and part of my vans.

I jumped as Harry appeared in the kitchen and stopped as he saw me, furrowing his eyebrows at the sight before crouching down to my level, taking a look at my leg.

Tears formed in my eyes just at the sight of him this close to me and not wanting to touch me lovingly, and he gently picked me up before I could protest and sat me onto the countertop.

I watched as he took a broom from the closet and swept up all the glass, even though I was going to, and pushing it all into a dustpan before taking it outside and coming back, putting them back up.

He left the room again and then came back with a red box, which I assumed was his first aid kit that his mum had bought him, and he sat it beside me before opening it.

He grabbed tweezers and pulled the glass out carefully, my hands gripping the countertop in pain.

He then grabbed my waist, my body melting into him at just the smallest of touches before he crouched down and unzipped my jeans, gently and slowly pulling them down my legs before setting me on the counter again.