Accident Prone |h.s|

Chapter 20: Bridget

Harry's POV

Listen, I know I fucked up.

I didn't mean to make her upset. And obviously, I know I haven't been alone this whole time. But she just kept asking and asking me what was wrong and it just came out.

I don't really feel that way....right?

I mean, it's been a little different since that night we spent together.

I've been trying to piece that evening together but I don't really remember all the details. One thing I definitely remember, is how incredible it felt. I can't seem to forget how warm she was or she felt under my body or how she fit so perfectly in my hand.

So instead of dealing with that, I keep trying to make it better by pretending it didn't happen. That's the only way I know how to keep her in my life without any risk of her leaving.

Would it be awesome to see how that relationship could evolve? Yes, absolutely.

Is it worth risking years of friendship with someone I'm so close to? Absolutely not.

That question has been circling in my head for a month now. I can't seem to get the image of the both of us together out of my head. The more I've spent time with her and the more we become ourselves around each other, I see how much I could never let that her go. There's nothing permanent holding us together. Anything could rip our friendship apart and I don't think I could recover from that.

Even if I was a complete asshole to her an hour ago.

Wait. An hour? Where the hell is she?

There has to be a long wait at the takeout place. Or she got distracted and went to Target. Those are the usual culprits.

How can she be so upset about my reaction to tour being cancelled? This was going to be the biggest event of my solo career so obviously I'm not very happy about it. I could be touring and seeing fans and hanging out with my band mates right now. Why is she being so weird about this? She knows how I feel about touring.

I go over to the piano to try and take out some of my frustration on the keys.

As I sit down, I place my glass of tequila and soda down on the bench next to me. There's just something about this day that needed tequila. My fingers spread over the keys with no melodic plan or structure. Just purely whatever flows out of me.

I don't know how to feel right now. My gut aches for my tour and everything that it brings.

Adventure.
Fulfillment.
Love.

Every night that I step on that stage, my heart rushes into my throat while my body and instincts take over. It's a rush I could never really describe.

Why can't she get that?

It isn't about her. It's not that living together hasn't been great because it has, but it's about a year of my life essentially stripped away.

The slow melody begins to take over my mind as I begin to realize I've never played anything like this. I quickly grab my phone to record the song as my hands play over the keys again and again.

As I grab it, I notice three missed calls from a random LA number and quickly ignore them. Stupid scam callers. I'm trying to write a song here.

It's almost like a lullaby. Soft and calming.

I don't know why, but it makes me think of B. The night she was in her room nearly shaking from her terrible nightmare. It was so awful to see her like that; broken with no way out of her own mind. I did the only thing I could think of which was give her some comfort.