Lost in The City // H.S.

Chapter 16

Two hours. Two hours I have been staring at my ceiling. I should be asleep right now, it's dark and cold and I'm exhausted. But instead I have been staring at the ceiling for two hours. I shouldn't be replaying Harry and I's argument over and over again in my head but here I am anyway at three in the morning staring at my ceiling.

I shouldn't care about the fact that I told Harry to leave me alone. But despite all the crap he puts me through, the times that we have spent together when everything was good mean far more to me than I am willing to admit. Nothing makes sense anymore. Every logical part of my brain that has saved me from horrible decisions seems to shut off every time I'm near him.

Suddenly a knock on my front door has me sitting up quickly in my bed startled by the noise in my otherwise quiet apartment. It's three in the morning who would even be at my door right now. I climb out of bed and walk to the door listening quietly for any sound on the other side but there is nothing. I wait for another minute not hearing anything and I start to think I just imagined it. Then another light knock comes through followed by the sound of my name in an all too familiar voice. It is the last person I would expect or should want at my door right now, but it also sends a wave of comfort through me that I hate.

I take a deep breath before opening the door to find Harry resting against the door frame.

"Harry, what are you-" I start to say but stop when his hazy eyes look at me. "You're drunk," I state taking in his expression and knowing without him saying a word that he has definitely been drinking. Anger rushes through me at him for showing up here in the middle of the night drunk like this. Especially when a few hours ago I told him not to talk to me.

"I'm not drunk," he says and the words come out clearer than I expected them to. "I had a few but I'm not drunk," he says again but I don't really believe him. How could he do this. Why is he drunk, I don't believe he cared enough about my words to go get drunk because of our argument. But the better question is why would he even come here.

"You seem drunk," I snap holding onto the door not allowing him to come inside.

"Forgive me," he says quietly like he didn't even hear my words. My eyes lock onto his and I can see and feel the desperation in his stare. I know he's not talking about the fact that he is drunk. "Please forgive me," he says again a little more desperate than the first time. I can't take another fight tonight.

"Harry it is three in the morning," I sigh ignoring his previous words.

"I know. I just- I just need you to forgive me. Please." He begs. Every time the words leave his mouth my anger fades a little more and I am afraid if he says it one more time I'll give in.

"Why?" I question him. I just don't understand anymore. Why does he even care.

"I- I don't know what it is. I just- I need you..." he stops for a second the words lingering as he looks at me and those words leaving his mouth make my anger disappear and send a tingling sensation through me."to forgive me," he sighs stumbling on his words in frustration. "I am really trying not to be an ass but I can't help it sometimes. I don't like feeling like I need to see you all the time. I hate it," he says and I'm not sure how I feel about his words.

He wants to see me all the time? That is definitely not the impression he gave me by ignoring me every chance he got and running away all the time.

"Harry you need to go home," I sigh trying to follow my better judgement even though I want to wrap him in my arms right now. His head falls down as he stares at the ground.

"Please don't make me go," he pleads not looking up at me but I can hear the fear in his voice without meeting his eyes.

I sigh knowing that as soon as the words left his mouth I couldn't make him leave even if I wanted to. "Look at me," I say but he doesn't remove his eyes from the floor. "Look at me," I say again a little more demanding this time and he slowly raises his head and meets my eyes.