SIN{Punk Romeo & Juliet Harry Styles}

Ch.23

Anna's Pov

''Then show me'' The words escaped my mouth and I almost regret it immediately as I brought back to my memory the last time I asked him the same thing. He walked away, leaving me unable to respond or add something more. He threw one of his insults and left me alone wondering what I've done wrong but this time things could be different. This time Harry was staring back at me with his big, green eyes,tired, even afraid. ''Show me.''

''Why?''His voice was as low as mine. Whispers into a silent room full of unsaid words; words I wanted to say but I couldn't, thoughts and secrets that he would like to share with me but something was holding him back.''Why you want me to show you who or what I am?''

''I want to know you.''

''You already do.'' His response cold, like he didn't care but now I knew. I have seen the real Harry and I wasn't ready to give up just because he had an attitude and a messed up mind. ''This is all I am. I am clearly not as great as your damn Romeo or polite or gentle or loved. I love tattoos cause it's the only thing my father can't forbid me, my motorbike and Zayn. He is a good lad, I would be lost without him.''

''You are more than wild night and tattoos.'' I smiled softly.

''How do you know that?''

''Because I am more than books and buggy shirts. We are not just our looks Harold.''

Harry breathed out heavily shrugging his shoulders. ''I like poetry.''

''Poetry...''

''Eliot, Hemingway.''

My eyebrows raised from the surprise. He loved the classics yet he was acting like a completely dickhead? Why? How it was possible to like poems talking about pure love and pain and real, dazzling feelings when he was walking around with an angry look and a cigarette?

''Bukowski is my favorite.'' I was ready to reply when his lips parted stopping me ''He left everything behind to live a life he knew would never be the life most of people dream. He slept in cheap motels, dirty, fucked up. He was starving for days, cause simply he didn't have the money to buy food and when he had he preferred whiskey and cigarettes. He was a fucking hero. He didn't spend his life trapped into other people dogma or believes. He lived as he wanted and died a happy, messed up man but free. He was free.''

''He had a family though''I murmured making him lift his head so he would be able to look directly into my eyes. ''I've read lot of his poems. ''I added as I show he was ready to ask me how I knew it ''I like him too.''

''You do? Bukowski?''

''Yeah'' I bit my lips ''I guess he did what most of us would like to do but we can't.''

''Why we can't?''

''We're afraid.''

''Of what?''

I laughed lowly enjoying more than I was supposed his company. ''I've never been completely free so I am afraid I am not the right person to answer you. All that I know is that people are meant to need each other, meant to stay close and he walked away living alone, spending his days carefree but...I'm not sure if he was really as free and wild spirit as he wanted to believe.''

Harry's eyebrows furrowed , his fingers run though his messy, brown hair pushing them away from his forehead ''Of course he was.What's your point here?''

''He was sleeping with all these girls...''

''It was just a psychical need Annabel, you should know. That didn't make him less strong.''