Pretend (Harry Styles) - Book 3

Chapter 48: Fresh Air

25 Weeks Along

-Ava's POV-

"Come on, we'll just take a short drive. It would be nice to get out of the flat wouldn't it? Get a bit of fresh air into your lungs?"

"I said no."

"Ava, please love. Don't make me drag your fit arse out of that bed."

"There something about no you don't understand?" I snap, wanting to be left alone.

"It's been two weeks. You haven't left the flat in two weeks."

"Poppy... enough."

"No. Don't you think for a bloody second I'm going to let up about this. I'd be no sort of best mate if I did. We'll go to the park, walk around for a bit."

"No. Please just leave me be."

"Have done quite enough of that." Poppy sighs, folding her arms across her chest. "Now put some proper clothes on before I put some on you myself. I'll drag your arse out kicking and screaming if I must."

I groan as Poppy impatiently taps her foot on the wooden floor. I've been fighting her for days about leaving the apartment.

The first week of being back here she held her tongue. Being Poppy I knew she had all sorts of things to say. But she knew I didn't, couldn't, hear them. So she just sat with me as I cried, tried to distract me with my favorite black and white movies, and made me all my favorite meals.

She's been here with me every minute since I showed up on her doorstep. The same one I called my own years ago.

She didn't think twice about taking a leave at work. She made the call within an hour of me walking through her door.

She's been here... Comforting me, crying with me, and showing every bit of anger I wish I could but can't.

She's been my rock. The same as she's always been since I first bumped into her at Heathrow. One bag in my hand and $150 in my pocket.

Funny, this time I showed up with half a dozen bags and more money then I know what to do with... But I feel as if I have absolutely nothing.

She's been with me constantly these past two weeks, yet I've never felt more alone.

"You're zoning out again." Poppy's voice snaps me out of my pity party. "Clothes. Now."

I exhale a deep breath before pulling myself off the bed. I tug on the black skinnies and t-shirt Poppy tosses at me. I roll my eyes at the triumphant smirk on her face, forcing myself not to just crawl back into bed.

There'd really be no point. I've no doubt she would drag me out of here if I did. It is Poppy after all.

"How bout we put a bit of color on your face?" She suggests.

"Don't push your luck."

"Alright, but comb out your hair at least. It looks a fright." She orders, holding out a brush to me.

I begrudgingly take it and pull it through my long brown hair several times.

"Still jealous of your hair right now." Poppy huffs.

I almost laugh, wondering how anyone could be jealous of anything about me at all. Not now at least.

My hair is now untangled but I know it's a wavy mess as it falls around my shoulders. My face is pale and my eyes red. At this point I don't remember them being anything other then red.

I follow her into the foyer where she helps me step into some black boots. Normally I would insist on doing such a thing myself, just to prove I could still reach my feet, but right now I don't care.