Illicit [Harry Styles]

Chapter 33

I sat in the newfound silence of Harry's car on his driveway completely by myself. I was gobsmacked, confused, a little bit upset, a fraction angry; but I just sat there with wide eyes not knowing what the hell had just happened.

He was angry with me, I knew that, but I thought I'd had the upper hand for a moment there. That was, until he suddenly flipped and stormed out, leaving me to 'drive my fuckíng self home'. Yeah, I'll definitely do that Harry, I'll take your car with my imaginary key and my imaginary driver's licence and I'll drive myself home, thanks.

A small part of me believed that if I sat here long enough, he'd feel guilty and come out to apologise, but then I remembered who it was I was talking about and wiped the idea from my mind. I think that was when it hit me; the reality of who it was I was dealing with. As I'd gotten to know him over the past few months, the fear and anxiety had eased, making me forget that Harry was actually a criminal.

He was a criminal that I'd met at his court trial, a trial he was given because he burnt a barn down with his friends after a night of drinking in a field. He'd basically insulted his way into my life, but somehow he managed to get inside my head, and now I was having to choose between him and possibly the sweetest person alive, and it seems obvious that I shouldn't choose him for so many reasons, but somehow there was this voice in my head telling me I wanted him — that I needed him.

The trouble with Harry is that his outside persona and his inside persona don't match. On the outside he's this tough, angry person that everyone's intimidated by. He has a lot of money, a lot of respect from other people, and a lot of hatred. But on the inside, whether he wants to admit or not, whether others can see it or whether it's just me, I know he's just misunderstood. I don't know why he's built this wall that keeps anyone from seeing the side of him that I've been able to see recently, but it was like I was determined to take a sledgehammer to it and show everyone who I know he can be. He has feelings, he just doesn't want to let them show. Maybe he thinks it's a sign of weakness?

Whilst I was deep in the midst of my thoughts, I hadn't even noticed my phone was vibrating in my hand.

"Hello?"

"Hey," it was Mckenzie — no surprise there, since she, Liam and my family are the only ones who ever call me. "Do you wanna come over? I just got home and there's no one here, so I thought I could play therapist and we could watch TV or whatever."

I rolled my eyes, despite the fact she couldn't see me. By 'I could play therapist', she means 'I could listen to all your problems because I love hearing about everyone else's shítty lives as it fuels my very being'.

"Sure," I agreed. It's not like I had anything better to do, and maybe letting some of what I was thinking out into the open could help.

"Sweet, where are you? At home?"

"Uh... no. I'm currently sat in Harry's car on his driveway."

"Oh really?" I could hear the amusement in her voice, and she was probably smirking to herself as we speak. Shame it wasn't what she was thinking at all. "Okay, well, have him bring you over here?"

"I don't think he'll be coming back out to take me anywhere any time soon. Long story, I'll tell you when I get there, but I'll be walking."

"You're in his car but he's— What? Okay, whatever, I'll see you in a bit."

"Yeah, see ya."

I hung up the phone and sighed, resting my head back against the headrest for a second before grabbing my bag and finally getting out of the car to begin my walk to Mckenzie's house.

————————

"Lay down on my sofa so it feels professional."

"I am not doing that," I tell Mckenzie with a completely straight, unamused face, "This isn't a counselling session, this is me talking to my best friend about my mess of a life."