Lights, Cameras, & Harry Styles

18: Insomnia, Bonding, & Harry Styles

-Amber-

I couldn't sleep. The minute my head hit my pillow, I had expected my eyes to close and to be consumed by sleep but I was wrong. I kept twisting and turning and trying hard to escape my thoughts for at least a second. Every time I looked at the clock, time seemed to slow down. It was midnight now and I was beginning to worry that I'd get zero sleep this night. Assuming I was asleep, Danielle snuck out a few hours ago. I didn't have to think twice to know she was with Liam. That much was obvious. As I continue to stare at the dark ceiling, my thoughts flicker back to where they've been all night.

Harry.

We've been getting on so well lately. It's unusual, really. But then the way he busted in and rushed out of my room earlier... That was weird. I want to talk to him. I want to ask him what that was all about. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Not only that, but I think Harry and I have crossed the friend zone. It feels odd. You know, to get along with him. I'm so used to us pulling at each other's hair all the time that I forgot what it felt like to actually be friends. After Harry and I's past, the fear of history repeating itself made me cautious on whom I fancied. I had set my standards so high that I only ever had one boyfriend. Sure, I went out on various dates, especially when I got pulled into the Hollywood scene, but I just never had more than one real boyfriend.

His name was Dylan. I met him senior year when I moved to LA. He was in charge of showing me around the high school and I guess we really hit it off. Before you knew it, we were the best of friends. Of course, I was still a bit paranoid but I decided to take this one risk. We dated for four months. I can't say I was in love with him. I don't think I was. But I did love our relationship. He was a sweet guy, nice, and probably one of the best boyfriends out there. Sadly, a few months before meeting Austin, Dylan moved to New York. We broke up, promised to stay in touch, and took our separate ways. It's been a while since I've heard from Dylan, but I'll always remember him as my first and only boyfriend. I remember one day on the phone he told me to open up to new relationships, to go fall in love and stop shutting people out. I didn't take him seriously. Not until recently. The day I opened up to Harry about my father was the day I realized that even though we hate -or hated- each other, he'd always had some weird affect over me. What it is? I don't even know. I just know that I'm willing to find out. One way or another, I want to know why Harry affects me the way he does.

I glance back at the clock, a frown forming on my lips. It’s barely been five minutes. I’m becoming less tired but the second and I’m starting to worry that this night will definitely be sleepless. I prop myself up into a sitting position, my eyes scanning the empty darkness. I could go downstairs and see if there was something on the TV. I can also go out and just lay on the beach, staring at the stars. I also have the option of checking if Harry’s still awake...

No. I can’t believe I even thought such a thing. Harry’s probably long out as well as the rest of the lads. I don’t think Louis has left his room all day and Zayn only went out for a mere second. Then there was Niall who only went down for dinner. Liam, on the other hand, was out with Danielle and now they’re spending the night probably cuddling together. Harry was no excuse. The boy was obviously knackered, especially after getting up so early and being so hungover. I seriously cannot believe I considered even checking to see if he was awake. What is wrong with me? On a normal occasion the thought would be repelling. I must be off my rocker.

I settle on going to down and spending the night on the couch. A bit of TV wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it would help me fall asleep. It’s worth a try. I hop off my bed and quietly exit the room, making sure not to wake any of the boys. I doubt it though. They were heavy sleepers.

As I step into the hallway, a familiar sound brings me to halt. It was a voice. Someone was singing. I crinkle my forehead, turning in the direction of the source. It was coming from Harry’s room. Right across the hall, Harry Styles was quietly singing. Well, not too quietly since I could somewhat hear him. Curiously, I approach his door, leaning into it.