I walk beside Harry in silence, every step echoing the chaos in my head. I kissed him — full-on kissed him — in front of Liam. My heart's still racing. I try not to look directly at Harry, just sneak glances out of the corner of my eye. His face is unreadable, jaw tight, eyes fixed forward.
The silence is suffocating.
We slip into a diner, the kind with worn leather booths and a menu that hasn't changed in years. A bored teenage hostess gestures us to a booth, and we sit facing each other but miles apart. I fidget with the edge of a napkin. He taps his fingers on the table.
"So..." he starts, then stops, letting the word hang there.
"I'm sorry," I blurt. "About back there."
His brows lift, but he doesn't look at me. "For what part?"
"That kiss." My voice wavers. "I didn't mean to make things weird."
Harry finally meets my eyes. "Did you do it to piss off Liam?" His tone is casual, but there's an edge beneath it. A quiet hurt.
I blink. "What?"
"In the lift. You kissed me like you were trying to prove something. Was that... about him?"
God. My stomach drops. "No. Harry, no." I lean forward, my voice softening. "I didn't kiss you to make Liam jealous." He doesn't respond, but his gaze drops, jaw twitching like he doesn't believe me — or maybe wishes he could. I take a breath. "I kissed you because I wanted to."
That makes him pause.
"Because I like you," I add, the words feeling terrifying and honest and way too vulnerable. "Not as a weapon. Not as a distraction. Just... you." His eyes flicker up, searching mine. "You were the one who stayed with me last night," I whisper. "I called you because even when I'm drunk and don't remember, I know that you make me feel safe. This morning you held me when I was having my nightmare. You pulled me out of it. You were just... there, and in the elevator, you looked like you needed someone to pull you back. I knew that look — because I had it this morning."
He breathes in through his nose, slow and steady, and nods. "Okay."
"Okay?" I ask, tentative.
A tiny smile touches his lips. "Yeah. I believe you." Relief floods me. I hadn't realized how afraid I was that I'd ruined something.
"I'm not trying to complicate things," I murmur. "I just don't want to play games. Not with you."
His smile grows a little. "Good. Because I'm shit at games anyway."
I laugh, just a little. The tension finally begins to ease between us. Then he says, quieter, "I liked that kiss, by the way."
My cheeks heat. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Well... good," I say, smiling like a complete idiot. "Me too."
Our waitress drops off two glasses of water, and for the first time since the elevator, we both relax.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Casey. I murmur a quiet apology to Harry as I slide out of the booth and answer, stepping outside into the cool morning air.
"Do you ever return phone calls?" Casey demands before I even say hello. Her voice slices through the quiet like a siren. I flinch, holding the phone a little away from my ear suddenly remembering a drunken phone call I'd place to her the night before.
"I'm sorry," I say softly, trying to soothe rather than match her energy. "Yesterday was... messy. I meant to call you back."
A pause. Then, with no subtlety whatsoever: "Messy like you kissed a hot British boy and passed out in his bed?"
YOU ARE READING
Capture
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] You can't run forever, eventually you'll be captured. A dark past he's spent years running from threatens to swallow him whole after a simple knock on her door.
