Heartbeat

Razors; Coffee Shop

Song of the chapter-

Give me love by Ed Sheeran

&

A little death by The Neighbourhood


Alex-

The next day I was sat on my couch with Eleanor again, my eyes strained on the tv as I try and distract myself with the mystery movie me and El had chose to put in the DVD player. No matter how much I tell myself not to think about the note I found in Harrys bag, and to just wait until he gets home tomorrow to talk to him about it, I can't force myself to not analyze a whole story out in my mind of who it could be.

"You okay Alex? You seem upset or something." I hear Eleanor speak from beside me, her hand rested in the popcorn bowl nestled in the space between our legs.

I look at her, and I know I can't lie to her. She's my best friend, and she has a weird way of knowing when something is wrong with anybody. I glance down to my lap, knowing I've been found out and that I'll have no way of just brushing it off with her. So I hold up my finger to tell her to hold on and get off the couch, retrieving the paper with the number on it off the kitchen counter where I've set it and let it remain since yesterday.

"What's this?" Eleanor asks, chewing her popcorn while speaking when I hand it to her.

I sigh a sad sigh and dig out my phone, clicking on my notes.

I found it in Harrys bag yesterday

I hand the phone over and nestle a throw pillow underneath my chin, squeezing it to try and rid my chills.

"This says Jessica underneath it." Her eyes flick to me before she glances back to it.

"I mean....." She starts off.

"It's not something to freak over, which I see you haven't and that's good." She nods her head as she tries to comfort me.

But then I see a look in her eyes, as if she's remembered or thought of something.

"Alex.....the night we went out to the club...." She trails off with sympathy in her tone.

"I saw Harry dancing with a girl, but I really didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to cause a fight between you guys."

I glance down to my lap and can't help the heat that raises to my face in somewhat humiliation, and a bit of anger.

"Don't be mad at me, I just didn't want to make you upset." Eleanor murmurs softly.

I nod my head with little effort, feeling my throat clog up with wanted tears. I reach up my arm and rub Eleanor's shoulder to try and symbol that I'm not mad at her, I understand why she didn't tell me. I stand up and try to ignore Eleanor's words as I walk away, waving her off and giving her a fake, pathetic smile from over my shoulder before I walk into my bedroom. And that's when the damn tears start again. I shouldn't be crying, I should be angry.

I want to talk to him about it, to see if it's true and hope to god it's not. But it makes sense. It seems true. And there's no denying that. As I feel the familiar feeling of panic settling into my chest, I stumble into my bathroom and turn on the shower as my heart rate picks up, turning it to the highest heat it can go to before stripping out of my clothes with labored breaths. Maybe the shower will help, but I know it can't make me better.

I stick my face under the steaming water and let it wash away my tears, running my hands through my hair and tugging at the strands as I lean over to try and breath properly. My skin is hot and the steam is making me feel trapped, making me feel like that day when I was sweating bullets in Eleanor's car. I hastily turn the nobs the other way as I let out a strangled sob, the ice cold water splattering across my skin as I sink down onto the tiled floor.

I want this to stop. No, I need this to stop, because I'm going insane. This panic attacks are making me feel like I'm crazy, and maybe I am. The note was the last thing on my mind, and I just wanted him here to help me. But he's not here, he's not here to help me calm down. I refuse to close my eyes, afraid to see frightening images behind my eyelids if I did. I begin to cough because I'm crying so hard and I can't breath, forcing myself to stand up, pressing my forehead to the cool tiled wall. When it doesn't help, and when I feel like I may faint, I slap my hands against the wall in anger. And that's when I see it, on the shelf above my head, spare razor blades.

A distraction.



Harry-


She hasn't texted again, she hasn't called, and I was worried. I want to just leave already, really not being able to have fun when I can't get a hold of her. I try calling El but she doesn't answer either, making me toss my phone onto my sleeping bag.

"What time are we leaving tomorrow?" I murmur to Niall who's texting on his phone beside me.

"Liam said about nine." He mumbles back, occupied with talking to Brianna. I sigh and roll over, closing my eyes and hoping to fall asleep so I can stop worrying.


Alex-


I didn't speak to Eleanor the rest of that night, not because I was mad at her in any means, but because I didn't feel like doing anything at all. After my shower, I laid down in bed and blocked everything out by putting earphones in and listening to the unfamiliar music off El's iPod, listening to a few tracks over and over again until I knew all the words, and until I couldn't listen without the lyrics taking over my thoughts.

I wear the baggiest sweat pants I own, but the insides of my thighs still sting when the fabric rubs over the cuts. So I tried not to move much, because I didn't want to remember what I did to myself. I ended up falling alseep with the earphones in and waking up with them discarded, Eleanor must have taken them off before she crawled into my bed to sleep.

And as she packed up her stuff this morning to head to her house to see Louis once he returns, she gave me a hug. But I knew it was more than a hug, because she held me for a while and told me good luck. I ended up just walking out of the apartment building with her because I am going to the coffee shop down the street anyways, getting another hug from her before separating ways.

I walked to the coffee shop with my own thoughts, trying to ignore the ache of my thighs against the fabric of my tights as I did so. I miss Harry so much, but there's a part of me that doesn't really want to see him right now when he gets home, so I think that's why I'm sitting all alone in the coffee shop right now. I ordered a cranberry muffin, straying from my original order, a banana muffin. I got a coffee in hopes that it would pick up my mood with its caffeine, but it ended up just warming me up and making me want to crawl into my big, comfy bed.

I don't know how long I've been here, but it's starting to rain. I move my seat closer to the big window and sip at my hot coffee, knowing that Harry is back at the apartments by now, because I bet I've been here for a while. I didn't bring my phone, and I guess that's a good thing, because I bet he's calling. Is it sad that I'm craving to hug, touch, and kiss him right now? I keep telling myself that I have no right to sit here and be angry at him when it was just a simple phone number in his bag. But then I remember of how Eleanor said she saw him dancing with a girl at the club, and what if that's the same girl as the one who gave him the number? The one that's in my cardigan pocket, feeling like its burning a hole in the cotton even though paper is not capable of doing that.

And if it wasn't, would he just go and dance with another girl when he couldn't find me? It doesn't sound like something Harry would do, my Harry, but maybe I'm wrong. I could be.

I pick at my muffin some more as I stare out the window, watching as the rain changes the sidewalks and the asphalt on the streets to a darker color.

"Alex?"

I jump in my seat, brushing away the bruise-like pain it caused on the skin of my thighs, and turn around to find Harry standing behind me, his hair damp from the rain.

"What's going on? Why are you here?" He asks me curiously, his eyes trailing over my face which must have a trace of sadness and shock on it.

Before I can process or stop what I'm doing my arms are latched around his neck as I stand on my tiptoes, squeezing him tightly and hoping it will take away everything that's happened these past few days. Because well, it usually does. But maybe that's just what I force myself to believe.

"I missed you." He murmurs into my hair, and the part of me that's been missing him like crazy overtakes my anger at him, and I hug him tightly and tuck my face into his shoulder.

"El told me you were here." He tells me as he pulls away a little to look at me, long, nimble fingers brushing my hair from my face.

This Harry....the one that's being so gentle and caring to me right now would never hurt me purposely. But I still need to know.

"Hey, what's wrong?" His finger is beneath my chin, lifting it up to make me look at him because my gaze had fallen to the floor.

His hands are on either sides. of my face now, large palms stroking my cheeks as he patiently waits for me to do something. I let out a nervous sigh as I take out the crumbled note from my cardigan pocket, unfolding it, knowing his eyes are on it as I reveal the discovered number to him. I know he'd seen it, so I let my hands fall down to my sides, the paper dangling in the weak grasp of my fingers.

"No, God no, Alex." I hear Harry murmur, his hands which still hold my face tilting it up to make me look at him.


How does after have so many fan accounts on instagram like damn, I'm jelly.

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Hope you enjoyed:) and please, please, please know that I do not support cutting in any way, not matter where it is, thighs, wrists, ect....it's not good for you. I've been through it myself (thighs) and I know some of you must have too, and it really doesn't help, even though you think it might. It just ends up being another thing you'll regret in life. I've learned and have been good for a month now!(: