~Cassidy~

That same night I was in the kitchen, making myself a coffee, when the doorbell rang. Momentarily confused, I went to go answer it.

“What are you doing here?” I blurted as soon as I opened it.

Harry stood there, still in his previous attire, whereas I’d changed into a baggy t-shirt and shorts, about ready to drink my coffee and have a lazy night, counting down the minutes until Matt came back.

“You said we’d talk tonight,” he shrugged, and my brow furrowed, glaring at him like he was stupid, “You didn’t actually think I meant that, did you?”

His hand snuck up to bury itself in his hair, and he pulled on it harshly, looking pained, “Look, I need some answers.”

I crossed my arms, “You said everything was coming back to you,” I retorted, momentarily getting caught up in the features of his face.

His frost-green eyes were hard, and his dimple was nowhere to be seen. I let my gaze wander along the edge of his chiseled jawline, wondering how a man so insufferable could be so pleasing to the eye.

“Not about that,” he bit back at me, and I shook my head, rolling my eyes. Yet again, he took a step forward, trying to force his way into my house, but I didn’t move this time. His firm chest bumped against me, but I gripped the doorknob to steady myself and not stumbled back.

He glared down at me, “Move.”

“No,” I said, smirking.

He sighed, closing his eyes, and tried again, “Move, or I’ll make you.”

There was a beat of silence, and I briefly wondered if he was bluffing. The look in his eyes told me he wasn’t, but I was too stubborn and too proud to follow his order.

“Try me,” I spit, returning his burning gaze.

In a flash, his freakishly large hands came up to wrap around my waist, and he lifted me, slinging me over his shoulder.

“What the fuck!” I screamed as he closed the front door with his foot. I pounded on his back, but he just kept going, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare.

A moment later, he set me down, and I realised that he had brought me back to my kitchen. The light on the coffee-machine was flashing, indicating that my mug was full, and I immediately unplugged the machine, pulling my mug off of the pedestal and setting it down on the counter before turning to him.

“Fuck you, Styles!” I yelled at him, stalking over to him.

He backed up slightly, allowing me to get all up in his face, which I did without hesitation. As I yelled profanities at him, the corners of his mouth slowly tugged up into a lazy smirk. Not knowing what the joke was drove me insane.

“What?” I shouted at him, taking a step back, crossing my arms over my chest, “What is so goddamn funny?”

“You’re cute,” he said simply, and for a nanosecond, I faltered. I hoped that he didn’t notice, but he had, and he just grinned widely at me, pleased that he’d caught me off guard for a moment.

I sighed, raking my hands through my hair, “Just get out.”

“No,” he said firmly, “I need to talk to you about this.”

“About what, Styles?” I barked out a laugh, closing my eyes and wishing that when I opened them, he’d disappear, “What is there to talk about? We almost kissed, but we didn’t. Thank God we didn’t. End of story.”

“No,” he said loudly, frowning at me, “Beginning of story.”

“What?” I whispered brokenly, so entirely tired with this back and forth arguing. My fiery aura vanished in an instant, only to be replaced with exhaustion and annoyance, wishing that he would just leave already. All of this fighting took up too much of my energy, and frankly, I was starting to crave drunk out of his mind Harry more and more each minute.

“Please just listen to me,” Harry pleaded, stepping forward.

I was too tired to move back, so we were five and a half feet apart. I looked down at the floor, sighing, before staring back up at him, “Five minutes.”

“Thank you,” he grinned at me, and I rolled my eyes, “You’re wasting time.”

He chuckled and then turned serious; staring into my eyes with such burning intensity I felt as though I should look away, “I’m sorry for everything. For coming to you house while I was drunk, for causing you inconvenience, for whatever else I did that pained you.”

“Watching Love Actually,” I muttered, and he threw his head back, laughing loudly.

I almost smiled, but then remembered that this wasn’t drunk out of his mind Harry; this was the same Harry that loved to get me wound up over the smallest things, loved to annoy me and push my buttons. And the situation we were in didn’t really call for jokes either.

“But I’m not sorry for almost kissing you,” he told me softly, causing me to snap out of my thoughts and look at him like he was crazy. He smiled lightly, gazing at the floor, “It’s insane, huh? How oblivious you can be?”

“Me?” I asked, starting to regain some of my old fire.

I think he could sense that I was getting angry again, because he held up his hands, stepping forward and trying to soothe me, “Just let me finish, alright?”

I nodded curtly and the left corner of his mouth came up in a small, tender smile, “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, making my eyes go wide. I briefly wondered if he was drunk again.

He laughed, and I realised that I had said this aloud. “No,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck, “I’m completely sober. I’m just being honest.”

“You need to stop,” I tried to say firmly, but my voice cracked.

“No, I don’t,” he shook his head, his hands reaching out to me. His right hand reached for my left hand and interlocked our fingers, his other one stroking my cheek. I stared up at him, willing my body to move away, yet my brain wouldn’t work.

He leaned down, his breath puffing out onto my face, our noses several inches apart. I watched him with wide eyes and swiftly, the left corner of his mouth was tugged up into a teasing smirk, showing me the faintest shadow of his dimple.

What are you doing? Slap him, yell at him, do something! This isn’t how things are supposed to be, you hate him, remember?

I did, didn’t I?

I didn’t know anymore.

“No!” I said briskly, taking a step back and wrenching myself away from him. I balled my hands into fists, frustrated with both of us.

“You can’t do that, Styles!” I accused him, “You can’t—fuck—you’re such an asshole.”

He looked disappointed for a moment before seeming to recollect himself, and step towards me again, his hand appearing again on my arm. I wanted to shrug him off, but I couldn’t find it in myself to do so. His other hand came up to stroke my face again, and I fought the urge to close my eyes. We stood there in silence, him gazing at me, me glaring at him.

“I pulled away,” Harry cleared his throat, his thumb still brushing my cheekbone idly, “Because we couldn’t—I couldn’t. I’m not allowed.”

“What do you mean?” my voice came out hoarsely, and his eyes widened slightly.

“He didn’t tell you?” He pulled his hands away from me, and I immediately felt cold as I watched them return to his sides. Wait, why do I want him touching me? Fuck, this isn’t going well.

“No,” I said, “Who?”

“Matt,” Harry looked pained, and he squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. My mind reeled, wondering what the hell Matt could possibly be keeping from me. We were so close; we told each other everything. Had it just slipped his mind or something?

“What?” I urged, wishing he’d just tell me already. Harry shot me a small glance, laced with so many emotions that I couldn’t recognize them all. Fear, pain, sadness, and I itched to know what was going on.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head and looking away. I grew angry, yet at the same time I just wanted him here, with me.

I shook my head, trying to force words out of my mouth, but they just wouldn’t come. I couldn’t believe this at all. Things were so surreal, and this wasn’t how I ever imagined training my pupil would go. I was tired of this, so, so tired.

“I think you should go,” I finally spoke, and then mentally kicked myself. Why had those words come out of my mouth? They weren’t true; I didn’t want him to go.

Yes you do.

No I fucking don’t! I don’t want him to go, I want him to stay here and explain things to me. I was so confused, not knowing what to believe, wondering if this was actually reality or if I was simply stuck in an endless dream that I couldn’t wake up from. I needed answers, but I wasn’t getting them.

“What?” he asked, stepping back, hurt laced through his features.

I kicked myself again; of all the words that could’ve come out, it had to be those ones? I tried to open my mouth again, my goal being to tell him to stay, not to pay attention to what I’d said before, but instead, I simply said, “You need to go.”

No he doesn’t! He needs to stay here, with me! What am I doing?

“What are you doing?” he asked me—completely incredulous—seeming to read my mind. I blinked furiously, willing myself not to maintain eye contact for too long.

“Honestly?” I barked out a laugh, “I have no idea. But I do know that I don’t want you here. Just leave me alone right now.”

“Kane,” he looked at me sternly, his tone warning. I just clenched my teeth together, a muscle in my jaw twitching, and shook my head, trying to show him that I was done with this.

Because I was.

I was.

I looked away, feeling my eyes prick with tears, but I kept them in, forcing myself to be strong. Pushing past him, I walked out into the hall and began climbing the stairs, hoping that he’d leave with being difficult. But of course, when had that ever stopped him?

“Cassidy!” he called out and I turned, halfway up the flight, glaring at him over the railing.

He could clearly see that my eyes were red, but I didn’t care; I needed him to leave, I needed him to stay; fuck, I didn’t know what I needed. Things were too twisted right now; I was too caught up in my own flurry of emotions, trying to debate whether I had actual feelings for him or not, and I couldn’t deal with things outside of my head right now.

“Leave,” I whispered, taking him in one last time.

His eyes were soft, pleading, his mouth puckered lightly in a small frown. He looked so confused, the exact replica of what I was feeling on the inside. I couldn’t stand this.

I was done with trying to figure this man out. Things had only spiralled downhill after he came into my life, and I didn’t want to stick around to find out how much worse they could get.

I turned back around and finished climbing the steps, running into my room and closing the door before collapsing on the bed. The tears didn’t come, which I was grateful for. I simply buried my face in my pillow, screaming until my throat was dry, until I couldn’t force any more air out of my lungs.

And then I heard the front door downstairs slam shut.

Notes

Awww... :(

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