Chapter 6.

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*PHOEBE'S POV*

  Being anxious is a whole new feeling that is not a good one.

  I definitely feel like throwing up at this exact moment, now knowing the real reason he brought me in the car.

  He drove a little while longer while we sat in silence, besides my shuffled playlist playing on the stereo. We finally parked at the beach, staying in the car as I know what's to come.

  I want to talk about it but I don't know how without breaking down, last night was harder than I let on. Those night terrors haven't happened in so long, but they made more appearances than any other time last night.

  Harry's acting more nervous than usual, I know he has a hard time around other people, but it's just me. Maybe he's nervous about what he did last night, maybe he's nervous to confess things he never has.

  I'm definitely getting too ahead of myself with that one.

  "Can we talk about last night?" I decided to bring up the topic myself, knowing he's nervous because of the way he played with his lip and turned his rings every minute. I needed to initiate a topic for once in my life, now is the time to do it.

  "Yeah- uh... I was hoping to talk about that." He turned his rings around once more, fidgeting in his seat. A weird silence took over us before I decided to step in, controlling the situation because he's the one who did it to me.

  "Why'd you suddenly get like that last night? All touchy with me? You've never been that way with me." I acted disappointed in the fact that he did it, but looking back, I would've gone further if we were more than best friends.

  "I was drunk, P. I didn't know what I was doing... I-" He kept stuttering, but that was enough for me to let loose. So he only did it cause he was drunk? No feelings attached? How does someone place their hand on another's thigh, inching higher until you take control to stop yourself from doing something you've always wanted. To kiss another's neck enough to make that person pull you off because they're afraid they might go too far with a man that's supposed to be your best friend.

  If I knew I'd end up feeling like this, I wouldn't have put myself through it in the first place. I wouldn't have started to love Harry in the way he doesn't love me.

  "All because you were drunk? And it sure looked and sounded like you knew what you were doing, H." I start to get irritated at the fact that I basically did this to myself, I love him and he loves me, but not in the way I need him to be.

  "That's not w-what I meant, Ph-"

  "No, Harry. It's exactly what you meant, or else you wouldn't have said it!" I talked a bit louder, earning more of a frustrated look to appear on Harry's face. I'm not trying to be rude or hurt him, that's the last thing I want to do. But I need to know why.

  "We all say shit we don't mean sometimes, Phoebe!" He yelled louder than I thought intended, making his demeanor change into a softer one. "Shit.. I didn't mean to yell like that... I'm sorry. Fuck." He whispered to himself, loud enough for me to hear, and loud enough for me to always sympathize with him.

  Fuck, why can't I just stick up for myself for once? Why does he always change my mind?

  "No, it's okay... it's okay." I inched my finger to his chin, flicking it up for him to look up at me. "This is usually the part where I make up an excuse to quit talking about this topic, but I think we need to talk about it."

  "I agree... I just... I.." He started mumbling with every word, which I gave a soft smile in return. I missed smiling.

"What, H? It's just me, you can talk to me." I whispered, giving him the soft reassurance that I know he needs. I don't think I've seen him this shaken up in so long.

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