Bad Meets Good

Here I Come

Harry’s POV

Three knocks sound from my bedroom door and I peer up from my position on the bed as the door bursts followed by Niall walking in a little bit too nonchalantly. I didn’t even know he was still here in the house with me. I could have sworn I was the only person in house, being that it’s dead silent since everyone else went out to do god knows what. I wasn’t in the mood to do any dumb shit with them today and clearly so wasn’t Niall.

“I don’t remember telling you to come in” I say, glaring at him as he places himself in a seat across from me and takes his Nike’s off. He scoots the chair closer to my bed and cocks his feet up on it before a smug smile forms on his face.

“And I don’t remember asking” he says before chuckling to himself. I sigh and run my hand through my hair while closing my eyes momentarily. Leave it to Niall to be amused by his own actions. I don’t stand how he could be so peppy 24/7. It good but sometimes it’d annoying. Right now is a prime example.

“What are you writing?”

I glance down at the opened notebook filled with writing on my outstretched legs and close it.

“Nothing. Why?” I ask while opening the top drawer of my dresser and placing it in there with all the other miscellaneous objects. He shrugs his shoulder before responding.

“I don’t know. I’ve seen you with that thing and writing stuff in it ever since I’ve known you. I’m just curious to know what’s it in it and why you always seem to hide it from us”

Crossing my hands over my chest, I look at him and raise an eyebrow. I choose not to tell anyone what’s in that book and I do admit to hiding it from them. I’ve had it for years and it’s personal, holding some of the darkest days that I don’t dare to relive. I’ve jotted the things I couldn’t verbalize down as a way to cope with what I did to others and to myself. I found no other way of security in doing so. It’s a sense of relief to get everything bottled up out. It’s disturbing for me to look back at my previous entries and see tear stains and dried up blood. The emotions so overwhelming that I have no choice but to close it.

“It’s just… something I don’t feel comfortable sharing” I say and he nods, expectantly understandingly. I trust him enough to know he’s not going to read it behind my back.

“So no one has read it before?” he asks and I nod my head.

“Will you ever let someone read it?”

I contemplate about it before mumbling no. No one’s been in my room without my presence and majority of the time my door is locked.

“Enough of about me, what brings you into my room?” I ask, changing the subject. He shifts back in his seat and smiles. I look over at him in suspicion.

“I was with a couple of friends the other night and it turns out Zayn, is in the area. I didn’t recognize him at first; he’s matured since I’ve last seen him and he looks clean. Supposedly he’s moved here along with his family sometime this week”

“Where did you see him?”

“He was next to the diner, the one we went to last Sunday, with his baby sister”

“He has a baby sister now?”

“Yeah, she was around two I think, maybe even three”

I let all the information sink in. I knew he was out, but I didn’t think that he’d be in the area where we all happen to live. It’s been three and a half years and the anger towards him still resides in me.  I guess I’ll just find out how I’ll react when I come face to face with him, preferably, alone.