golden | A HARRY STYLES NOVEL

"Just Stop Your Crying"

Chapter 7.

    I got home in only 10ish minutes, listening to Slow Burn by David Bowie. It never left my mind. And by it I mean him. God, I really let myself fall for him. Like every other teenage girl on the planet. Nice move on my behalf, really.

    I did know him though, I thought I did. I knew the real him, I knew that he'd been through too much to be as gracious as he is. I knew his eyes by memory, but especially when the sun cradled them. I knew that the stars reminded him that he was free, and it made him feel alive. I want to be that for him.

    This is not what it was before. The last so-called love was childish. I wasn't anywhere near declaring it so, but it felt different. Safe.

    I adored the safety I felt standing there. There was all of this uncertainty huddling around us in a bubble but I felt safe.

    I wanted him to know me. I hated being nervous but it was a habit of mine. I promised myself to not hold back when I remembered what Anna said. It was cruel of me to waste such a lovely existence.

    I had only been home for a couple minutes before my doorbell was rung.

    I rushed down the stairs to get it, really hoping that it wasn't some terrifying stranger just trying to kidnap me with a van on the curb waiting to stuff me in it. Instead I opened the door to find the boy I had just nearly kissed, standing on my tiny porch with a wildflower and a leaf in hand, wearing pajamas. There was something off about him, but he still managed to pick a flower off the grass outside. Classic.

    He reached out a hand to give me the little plants, and I let him inside. We stood a couple moments in the apartment complex foyer without words before going up the stairs to my house. I couldn't see him very well, but I heard a small sniffle and my heart sank just a bit.

The Archer by Taylor Swift
    After I closed and locked the door, I turned around and he was crying, right in front of me, right in my living room.
I rushed to hold him, to calm him down and maybe see what was going on. "Harry, Harry..." I kept repeating his name, which probably wasn't helping all that much. I didn't want him to start hyperventilating. I brought him to the couch, where he laid down beside me.

    "Hey can you tell me what's bothering you, H?" I ran my fingers through his hair, brushing his damp curls out of his face. "I- had some sort of anxiety attack. After you- left. Not- your fault." His breathing slowed as I continued to rub his hands and stroke his hair back. I was the only person he could come to.

    "I'm sorry, Harry. Hey why don't you tell me about your favorite films again?" I painfully knew what to do, I had too much experience. And it was really scary.

    "You already k- know I love The Notebook," He said. I squeezed his hand, smiling though my eyes were blurring and I was trying with everything in my to stop it.

    "But I also really enjoy La La Land like you- mentioned. Earlier." He was calming down, I noticed that he was pretty calm nearly the whole time, but I had no idea what he endured by himself before he came. It made me nervous. But I had to stay calm for him right now.

    "I'm going to get you some water and then we should watch it. Sound good?" I asked. He lifted his head off my shoulder and I put ice in a cup for him. I took multiple deep breaths myself.

    I got back as soon as possible, he was crying again, trying to hold it in this time. He buried his face in his hands. I set the water down on the table and pulled him as close to me as possible. He wrapped his arms completely around me, I felt his hand gently holding the back of my head.