Matching Rings [h.s]

81

POV: BAYLIN GRIGGS

"I think it's Liam." I blurt out, in the middle of breakfast.

Harry stops chewing his omelet, his jaw locks on the bite in his mouth while he seems stunned by my sudden outburst.

I've had that buried in the back of my throat since I woke up, my knee's been at a bounce nonstop since we sat down at Mamma Perks and I can't seem to find the ability to eat the pancakes in front of me.

"You think what's Liam?"

"The one doing all this." I clarify, unable to look him in the eye since he's the first person besides Niall and Alice that I've told this theory too. "The letters, Maya and Zayn, my mother, everything. I think Liam's doing it all."

My tone sounds so casual as if we aren't discussing the fact that I'm telling him that my best friend is the one out to get me.

Harry places his fork down and shakes his head, clearly trying to wrap his head around this. "I'm sorry, what? I may not like the guy but I'm not going to throw out that he's a murderer like it's-"

"I'm being serious, Harry."

By the sudden change of my tone, the way I embedded his name like I was begging him to trust me, I saw the change in his eyes that he knows I'm not kidding.

"Why would you ever think that Liam's doing all this?"

"Niall and I found a phone in his backpack." I swallow my fear, "Zayn's phone."

Harry goes still for a moment.

"Zayn's phone?"

"Mhm." I bring my hand to my mouth and bite at my index nail, meeting Harry's eyes. I could tell there was something on his mind, possibly those pictures of Liam and I.

This has all felt so out of place, Harry and I have been nothing but happy for the past twelve hours. But this theory is eating up at me and without Alice here to debunk it, I'm driving myself insane.

"We went through the phone." I tell him, hoping he'll know what I'm getting at. "There were messages with you."

"The pictures." He mumbles, sounding extremely insecure.

I knew we'd have to bring this up at some point, but nonetheless I'm completely embarrassed. This isn't exactly the topic of conversation you want with your newly tilted boyfriend over breakfast.

There's a long overbearing beat of silence, only the restaurant sounds fill the empty air while we sit staring at each other as neither of us want to discuss this.

"Can I just explain myself?" I break the awkwardness.

My words seem to entrap his attention and he continues eating his food. "You don't need to."

"Yes I do."

"No, you don't. We already talked about this... we weren't together, you were allowed to-"

I place my hand over him, forcing him to look at me so that I could explain myself— because I want to. He has a right to know that it meant nothing to me, I don't want to already ruin our relationship on a false accusation.

"Please. Let me." I plead, holding so much in my eyes.

Harry stares deep into my eyes of gold and honey, trying to decipher for himself if he wants to hear me out. Eventually he gestures for me to go on.

"I was high off my fucking mind, and we both know how I am with weed— I'm not saying that's an excuse, but it plays a part." I speak fast in hopes to not open a healed wound since it has been quite some time since then, "And it was right after our big fight, when we officially ended things. I guess I just needed-"