Personal Assistant ➵ H.S.

27

"Come on. I'm taking you home."

You looked up from your seat to find Harry staring back down at you with an unreadable expression and his lips in a tight, thin line; he was pissed. Deciding the best course of action would be to just follow him, you stood up and began to make your way out of the bar, muttering a few thank yous and goodbyes to your few friends, Emmy, Niall, Louis and Frilly, that still remained, their faces a mask of worry and sympathy.

The car ride back to your apartment was deathly silent, the atmosphere extremely tense, a complete opposite to your journey there earlier in the night. Harry sat away from you, his hand holding his chin as he glared out of the window, the other hand clenched tightly in a fist in his lap.

You fiddled anxiously with the makeshift bandages that adorned your sore palms, unsure of how to feel. Now that you'd had some fresh air and more water your thoughts had a lot more clarity, even though things were still quite hazy around the edges.

In total honestly, the only emotion besides nervousness that surrounded you because of Harry's silence, was pure anger. Firstly, and most prominently, towards Damon. How dare he turn up unannounced, drunk, and ruin the perfect night Harry had organised for you? His little 'see you later' made so much more sense now and it only angered you further. You knew this was it now, nothing could ever convince you to give him any more of your time, and although this finality had maybe come a bit later than it should have, it still felt good to realise.

Secondly, you couldn't help but feel a slight inkling of anger towards Harry. The way he had spoken to you had only riled you up further, when all you'd tried to do was help!

Your phone buzzed in your bag, breaking you out of your thoughts, and you carefully managed to get it out. Looking at the sender of the message you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

Cecu, I'm so sorry, olease forgive me, I srear I didn't men to hirt yoi

Do not contact me ever again.

After taking a beat longer than usual to type out the message, to ensure you made no drunken typos like the sender had displayed, you swiftly blocked and deleted Damon's number and put your phone away, glad that was over with.

You glanced over at Harry then, and was surprised to see him already looking at you, only his head turned in your direction as he surveyed your actions. His glance moved down to your hands and the look in his eyes flashed with guilt for a moment, making your eyebrows furrow. But then, before you could think of something to say, he was looking back out of the window.

With a sigh you lent your head back against the leather seat of the car, not looking forward to the inevitable strained conversation that you were sure you'd be having back at home.

But all too soon Harry was murmuring a quiet, "We're here," making your sleepy eyes open quickly.

You exited the car, thanking the driver as you did so, not waiting for Harry at the bottom of the steps, but instead walking up them and unlocking the door. You assumed he was following, but the sound of his footsteps on the wooden flooring of the corridor confirmed it.

Slipping the key into the door of your apartment you pushed it open, ready to burst at how intense the tension was between you both. It was like seeing grey storm clouds approaching, but knowing there's nothing you can do to stop the oncoming thunder.

As soon as Harry shut the door you turned on him, "Right, have out with it then."

"What?"

"Don't play stupid, you know what."