Yellow || hs au

|36|

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Harsh and unforgiving raindrops slap against the windows of my apartment. The sky has been dark all day and it's felt like four o'clock since eight this morning. Everything feels off today.

  I decided against going to Pyramid tonight. I just don't think I'm ready. And I feel extremely guilty for the way I'm feeling, I'm upset and I'm hurt and I don't know if I even have the right to feel this way. Harry lied to me. And I think that's what's eating me up the most. He lied to me to shoot up. And that hurts.

  It's almost seven now and I've spent the whole day trying to keep my mind off of him. He's called and texted so I turned my phone completely off. I'm confused.

  I'm not mad at Harry for relapsing, I'm hurt that he could lie to me so easily and effortlessly. I understand that he's an addict, to quite possibly one of the worst drugs. However he promised me he had it under control and I believed him. Zayn believed him too. But he didn't have it under control.

  Is it wrong that I feel so hurt and almost betrayed? I don't know. I've never dealt with addiction in my life, I was never exposed to drugs or anything of the sort when I was younger, I don't know how to feel. Especially when it's someone I care about.

  I care about Harry more than I thought I ever would if I'm being completely honest. When I first started drawing him in the café he was simply inspiration, but then I wanted to know him and everything that came with him. I care about him a lot, more than I think he'll ever understand. And maybe that's why this hurts so bad.

  My eyes are trained on our painting with our handprints, my heart aching in my chest as I sigh. My hair is still damp from my shower and only Harry's shirt covers my body.

  I wanted to go tonight, deep down I know I wanted to. I got ready and did my makeup and picked out my clothes, but when it came to leaving my apartment, I couldn't do it. It sounds pathetic and I know that, but my stomach drops every time I think about seeing Harry.

  Last night was scary. I'd seen him high once before but it wasn't like last night. Harry didn't seem guilty that he's relapsed like he did the first time, he wasn't in tears. All he wanted was to see me and to explain himself. And that doesn't sit right with me.

My door handle jiggles causing me to jump, a knock then echoing over the rain causing me to sigh and push myself up from my place on the couch. My feet quietly move me across the floor until I unlock the door and pull it open.

Harry stands there with his hair wet and messily brushed out of his face and his clothes stick to his body uncomfortably. He kind of looks like a wet dog. But his face is filled with so much emotion I almost don't recognize him.

"Are you ignoring me?" He asks quietly, his voice is soft but still firm as my eyes flicker down the hall before back up to him and I simply shake my head no. "Then why is your phone off?" He continues quietly, his eyes examining me deeply like it's been years since we've seen each other.

"I've been thinking." I reply, leaving the door open for him as I walk back into my apartment, hearing the door close quickly, along with his heavy footsteps following me.

"About?" He questions, following me down the hallway to my bedroom. Even if I don't exactly feel like talking or listening right now, I won't make him wear soaking clothes. So I dig out some of his sweats and a hoodie. "About what, sweetheart, talk to me." He pleads.

I turn to hand him his clothes which he takes but immediately sets them on my bed, standing tall in front of me with his eyes boring into my own.

"You lied to me, Harry." I finally break, my hands beginning to shake at my sides as I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. Harry stares at me and swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "You told me you had it under control." I continue, my voice suddenly stern and laced with anger and hurt.