Butterfly [A Harry Styles Fanfiction] *COMPLETED WITH SEQUEl* {Book 1}

Chapter 7: I Won't Read Into It

A/N: for some reason when I updated chapter 6 it did not send out a notification. Please make sure you go back and read that one first! Thanks xxxxxx :)

Cami POV:
"Niall, it's not-" I placed my hands on his shoulder and he violently brushed it off and shook his head in disappointment. Before I got a chance to stop him, he walked off causing me to lose his head in the crowd.

I searched the faces around me and stood on my tippy toes, but I had no luck identifying him. Honestly I didn't understand why he was so upset about it. I guess he could have a crush on me or something, but I never did anything wrong, we are only friends after all. Harry was still, as he stood dumbfounded from our kiss, which I was already regretting.

"Cami, I'm so sorry. I didn't see him there if that's what you're thinking," Harry said, grasping my arm and turning me towards him.

His eyes were still dark but I knew he was telling the truth, that wasn't why I was upset.

"You can't just kiss me Harry!" I yelled, taking my frustrations out on him.

Niall was probably drunk and being melodramatic but if this affected our friendship in any way, I would be beyond pissed.

Harry gave me a small nod, processing all the reasons why the kiss we shared a few minutes ago was wrong.
Why was it so wrong? My subconscience questioned it and I internally fought to silence her.

I focused my attention on anyone who looked like Niall, still trying to find him. The much taller people around me posed a small issue along with the amount of them filling the club.

"I'll help you find him," Harry said, distracting my search party.

I looked over at him hesitantly. Why would he want to help me anyway? It's not like he cared how Niall was feeling. I ignored my suspicions of his offer, knowing that two sets of eyes were better than one and with his help I had a better chance of straightening this misunderstanding out.

"Thank you," I told Harry, as he led me through the crowds of people surrounding us.

We spent practically an hour searching every inch of Bandit for Niall. We asked Colt and the other bar staff if they had seen him, only to be met with a no. The bouncer also didn't see anyone matching his description leaving the club. Though Harry offered to continue looking for him, I opted to give up. I would see Niall eventually, he couldn't avoid me forever and by then maybe he would have already gotten over it.
It was just past midnight when I glanced at my phone and I couldn't help but feel this was a waste of a night. I got all dressed up, drank zero alcohol and instead of meeting a hot frat boy, I pissed off one who was one of my closest friends.

"I think it's time I call it a night," I said to Harry, who was sitting beside me on the couch in the VIP lounge.

A flash of disappointment? crossed his features, but he quickly flushed it away.

"Caleb and Charli already left. If you give me a couple minutes, I can leave someone in charge and drive you home," he offered, kindly.

It was so like him to be responsible enough to assign someone authority rank, while he and Caleb were both absent. It was also very like Caleb to ditch work early to bring Charli back to his place. They were both so different yet the same from what I gathered. Caleb was laid back and easygoing, whereas Harry was responsible and conscious of his actions. Yet, somehow when they were together they seemed to be so close, almost like brothers. Their relationship reminded me a lot of Charli and I. In some ways Harry and I were the parallels to each other and Caleb and Chari were too.

"It's fine, I can take a cab," I assured him, as I stood to my feet.

Harry stood with me, gently grasping my wrist, stopping me from leaving just yet. As his skin touched mine, I felt the same flame ignite deep within me from when we kissed. The moment his lips were on mine seemed like days ago, not mere hours. Somewhere deep in my subconscious I wanted to feel it again. I wasn't sure if it was because I liked it, or just the sheer curiosity of why it felt so intense and powerful. His gaze met mine and his eyes looked sympathetic and almost guilty as he responded.