Aureate | Harry Styles

17

now ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: seeds by yoke lore ───────────────⚪────────────────◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►►⠀⠀ ⠀ 1:15/ 3:52⠀

"i remember the first words that you ever said, planted soft like seeds deep in my chest, i wanna know who you are..."

•••

There he stands. Beautiful as ever with a desperate, sad look on his face. I stealthily pinch my side, because seeing him standing in front of me after two weeks of no contact feels like a dream.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly. I am not only confused, but the emotions from the past couple of weeks start to rush back in at the sight of him. Frustration, anger, hurt, and a strange twinge of happiness all flood me at once. I am overwhelmed and it is all I can do to not shut the door in his face.

Harry's hair is disheveled and dripping from the rain and he is twisting his H ring in fast circles. It looks like he walked here from the flush in his cheeks and the water that slowly trickles in drops down his legs. I've never seen him look at anyone the way he is looking at me now.

"Can I come in? Please?" He implores, an air of desperation in his voice, "I know I don't deserve to, just please Em, I need to talk to you."

"Uh, I guess," I say, stepping to the side against my better judgment to let him in. I close the door behind him and turn around to face him.

His cologne fills the air along with the smell of rain, and his wet shoes squeak against the floor. I take a deep breath and look at him truly for the first time. My eyes meet his tired ones, and I see bags of deep purple under his usually bright eyes. He looks exhausted, but beautiful, as he always does, the stubble over his lip and down his chin is endearing and familiar. Harry bites his lip slightly as we take each other in for the first time in weeks. The nerves that are so clearly displayed on his face and through his body language catch me a bit off guard, and I wonder what the purpose of his visit is.

"I want to say some things and I want you to just listen, okay?" He starts pacing across the floor, water still dripping from his hair, "I know I don't deserve even a second of your time after disappearing the way I did, but if I don't ever get to say this I think I might actually go insane. So please just listen." He is practically begging and the desperation in his voice makes my heart throb.

I nod, and prepare myself for the worst, fully expecting him to tell me how I had failed him. Over the years, I've unconsciously conditioned myself to think that if anyone wants to talk to me, it's always negative.

"I don't want to make one of those cliche speeches where I pretend like this isn't complicated and like I've not done anything wrong," He starts, his green eyes boring into mine. There's an intense passion behind them I haven't seen yet. I feel intimidated as he continues, "I've spent the last two weeks with you on my mind almost every second of every day. I'm fucking terrified by how much I feel for you, because god Emerson, every single thing about you makes my heart pound."

He glances up at me as he says this, and I reach my hand back to steady myself against the door, my own heart starting to beat wildly against my ribs, "I shouldn't have disappeared and I am so so damn sorry I did, I let myself be overwhelmed by my fear of getting hurt again, breaking your heart, or hearing you say you don't feel the same about me." Tears start to fill my eyes and he stops pacing and looks at me, stepping closer and wiping the tear off my cheek, "I realized today that life is too damn short to keep my feelings to myself especially when it comes to you. I am crazy about you honeybee, no one in the world makes me happier than you do. I don't expect you to feel the same but I—"