serendipity | wroetoshaw

Letter

Guys - please please please listen to this song while you're reading ^

I don't care if it's 5 pm or 5 am, fucking play it now!!!!!

Trust me.

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11th December, 2019

*Lillia's Pov*

He was coming round.

I felt sick, physically sick. I wasn't sure if this was going to be the start of something or the last conversation we ever have and that scared me. I hadn't seen him for a week and the last time we spoke, it didn't end well. Harry isn't good with communicating how he feels and that causes problems for us because I'm the complete opposite. Although I try really hard to understand Harry, the effort isn't necessarily reciprocated; I was just hoping that somehow he pulls through and by a miracle, we don't argue.

I couldn't be arsed to leave my bed; I didn't want to, but, I had to.

After mine and Harry's call ended, I finally dragged myself out of bed and sat in front of my mirror. I tried to make myself look presentable by scraping my hair back into a messy bun, but, I still felt grim. I walked over to my en-suite and washed my face in the basin, trying to freshen myself up. I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, disgusted at how I let myself go: the bags were prominent under my eyes; my hair was a mess, I hadn't showered in days and my skin had broken out. I looked a mess, but can you blame me? 

As I headed to the kitchen, there was a slight knock at the door. Staring at the door, I waited for a few seconds, not wanting to be eager. Harry knocked again, much louder than before. 'Fuck,' I muttered under my breath as I walked to open the door. 

'Hi,' I gulped. My heart drops as I open the door; seeing him again seems so surreal. 

'Hey,' he replied, walking into my apartment. I close the door behind him and head towards the sofa. I sit down and stare out of the floor-length window, looking out at the skyline. The sun was setting, creating a red hue throughout the sky. 'How've you been,' he asks, sitting down beside me. 

'Good, yeah,' I lie. He fixes me with his eyes; he knows I'm lying.

'I've missed you, you know,' he admitted. My heart sank as we held each other's gaze; I started to regret pushing him away... Or did I? Fuck, it was so confusing. 

'Me too,' I replied, smiling softly back at him. He looked rough, but, he still looked so good: he was wearing grey joggers with a blue jumper, his hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot. The attraction between Harry and I was inevitable and we both knew that; I couldn't imagine my life without him at this point.

'I, uh, wrote you this letter,' he says, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, 'I debated on whether I should drop it off or not, but, it explains things pretty well.'

'Oh god,' I giggle, taking the letter, 'do you want me to read it out loud, or?'

'Oh nelly, please don't,' he laughs.

I slowly open the letter and begin to read it:

"Lil,

I just want to start by saying, I'm sorry for not telling you about Katie. You've been so accommodating with trying to understand my fucked up brain and I took that for granted; I'm not good at expressing how I feel, never mind finding the words, but I do like you - like a lot. You've given me too many chances and I appreciate you for that, but, just hear me out.