Katie called early the next morning, apologising profusely for letting me go home alone and leaving me to fend for myself for so long at the party.

I didn't tell her about Harry and the other girl I saw him talking to or my offer to him afterwards or the argument that followed. I'm embarrassed about it enough without her, and probably Liam, knowing as well.

She was nervous about how I would feel about her and Liam and swore it wouldn't become an issue at work, but I assured her I didn't mind. 

Maybe I'm emotionally drained or too tired, but right now, I just want them to be happy and if that gets in the way of work, then so be it.

She couldn't believe the words coming out of my mouth any more than I could, and my sentiment made her worry about me even more.

Why has Harry affected me so much? It ended before it even began and I have no reason to be as emotionally invested in someone who was never even mine to begin with.

I'm so disappointed in myself for feeling so low about something that was just a dream I had created, just wishful thinking and I let my imagination get the best of me when it was leaps and bounds from reality.

He doesn't want me, he never has, and although I thought I felt something for him, it was all just a prefabrication of my mind. Something I liked the idea of, not the truth.

I spent the rest of the day sleeping off my hangover, smoking way too many cigarettes and feeling downright sorry for myself as I replayed the night, and almost every interaction I have had with Harry to date, over and over in my mind.

One moment, I was wondering how could I have mixed up the signals so badly, confused his intention so much, not just been okay with being friends? The next, I was shaking my head at the near kiss in the rain, the way he calls me 'baby,' the fact he still hasn't actually said, "I just want to be friends."

Maybe he doesn't need to say it. Not now, anyway.

I cringe at my brazen invitation last night to sleep with me just once and his rollercoaster of a rejection.

I'm halfway through re-runs of my favourite show when the doorbell echos through my apartment.

My heart catapults into my chest, praying to anyone listening that it's Katie coming to check on me and apologise unnecessarily again and not the wolf in sheep's clothing with piercing green eyes and perfect pink lips.

"Hello," my voice is hoarse from crying all day and I'm positive I look worse than I sound, my feet in fluffy yellow slippers, my ugliest but comfiest plaid pyjamas on and my hair in a messy top knot with a fluorescent pink hair tie that Katie must have left behind last night.

"Can I come up?" Harry sombre voice ricochets off my hollow heart and I smackdown that bullshit glimmer of hope that my subconscious can't seem to fucking let go of.

I want to snap back with something hostile and quick-witted, but I'm so drained. I'm ready to say goodbye to him forever which I'm assuming he is here explain. I'm sure he's about to tell me how inappropriate my behaviour was, how I've ruined our friendship and maybe even suggest I get some sort of help for my fucked up personality.

"Yeah," I croak, buzzing him up and shuffling my way to the door, not giving a shit anymore about how I look or how he perceives me, the damage has been done.

I open the door to Harry in black sweats, his hair in a bun, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. 

Did he go back to the party after we spoke?

Silence fills the air as he takes in my dishevelled appearance but I'm too disheartened to let it affect me.

He tilts his head to the side and chews the inside corner of his lips, taking in a deep lingering breath as he tries to find whatever words he is searching for and I notice a hand reaching up to cover his heart.

"What do you want, Harry?" I speak before he does.

"Can I come in?" He asks.

I hesitate not sure if I want him in my private space ever again but my curiosity is getting the best of me.

As much as I want him to leave, I pathetically wish he would stay.

"Just for a minute," he adds and I shrug, backing away from the door and allowing him to pass through.

We stand awkwardly in the entrance as the door closes behind us but I make no attempt to invite him in further and he knows better than to just make himself at home this time.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as mine cross proactively over my chest, secretly hoping it may help to deflect any more pain that is aimed for my pitiful heart.

I'm about to ask why he is here again when he takes a step towards me, my body stiffening and my heartbeat halting for a split second before he takes a hand out of his pocket and brings it up to my face, his fingers cupping my jaw and his thumb brushing my cheekbone.

"You've been crying," he whispers, shame lacing his voice and his inflated ego nowhere to be found.

I can't look him in the eye, my loathing of emotion making me feel ashamed of myself and I just want him to leave so I can get back to my misery in peace.

He swallows audibly and my stomach flips when his other hand reaches around my waist and he pulls my body into his.

The smell of his cologne is intoxicating and in my fragile state, it makes my insides churn, terrified of never smelling anything more perfect again.

His hand on my face moves to the back of my head as he pulls me in for a tighter hug, his cheek resting against my hair and his breath steady in my ear.

"M'sorry," he breathes.

I pull away, not wanting him to feel sorry for me and my temper starts to rise again. I take a step away from him and the warm body I want nothing more than to discover every inch of.

"It's fine, Harry. I was drunk. It was a miscommunication," I shake my head. "You clearly don't see me in that way and I shouldn't have fucked up the friendship with a heat of the moment decision," I lie trying to save my dignity.

He closes his eyes like he is trying to keep hold of whatever words want to escape his tightly held fortresses.

"Lexi," he says softly, reaching a hand back out to me and bringing me closer, almost needy for contact.

"I have to go away, just for a couple of weeks," he confesses and my brow creases in confusion as to why he feels the need to tell me this.

"I need you not to do anything silly, okay?" he says so quietly I struggle to hear as he rests his forehead on mine and suddenly looks like he is in far worse shape than I am.

"What are you talking about?" I question. "Are you in some sort of trouble? Am I?" I start to worry, wrapping my fingers around his biceps and pushing him back to see the turmoil in his eyes.

He shakes his head and licks his chapped lips, pouting into the air before saying, "Lex, just be good, alright?"

He reaches out and cups my face again, his eyes pouring into mine as if he is trying to telepathically get a message across.

I nod, a little bewildered and completely under the spell of being so close to him for too long.

"Where are you going?" I question.

"New York," he gives me the bare minimum as always.

"For work?" I dig.

"Kinda."

Time passes slowly, my mind swirling with his proximity and the meaning behind his bizarre plea.

"By the way," he sniffles. "I thought you looked beautiful last night, but you should wear what you want."

I exhale a defeated laugh, "Katie dressed me."

"You don't need her to," he shakes his head. "And for the record, Lexi, I wanted to come over last night. Badly. So, so badly," his face is pained as his confession tumbles from his lips.

"Stay now?" I say before I can stop myself and am rewarded by his expression softening and a slight upward turn of his mouth before he bites down on his bottom lip.

"I can't, darling," he purrs as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "As adorable as you look right now," he smiles. "I need you to trust me, alright?"

I frown at his request but before I can ask any of the million questions I have, he steps back and mumbles about needing to leave.

"I'll see you in two weeks," he says before taking a glance back and walking out the door.

A/N:

Are they driving you crazy yet???

HIT THAT STAR!

Love Ruby

x