The Waiting Game || Harry Styles

Chapter 8

I couldn't even open my eyes before Will was shouting at me. Scolding me regarding last night all over again. I try to explain that it was because my class's start up again on Wednesday I just wanted to have one last big night out. This just made him kick off more reminding me that I was just out for my birthday. He did have a point, and he was really sweet about me going out just me and Dee on my birthday. I just didn't think it counted because he called me telling me to come home at 11pm. Surprisingly when I bought up the concert he agreed pretty easily. I don't think he was happy about the arrangement but, he recognised it will be fun getting some sort of VIP treatment.

Delilah normally sleeps until noon whenever she's had a drink. However, I am surprised Will's shouting didn't wake her up. As soon as he had calmed down we decided to go on a run together around the park, Will pushing me above my limits with each lap we did. We decided it best for me to skip breakfast so it can balance out the extra calories I had yesterday. So, when it came to lunch I was starving. Whenever Will was round he always made my food for me, and for the days he wasn't here he had set out a meal plan for me. Dee always commented on how weird it was, but I honestly liked it. It took some getting use to but it just made life so easy and saved loads of time when needing lunch at work or uni.

Just as we are plating up the salads Will made Delilah comes out her room. She had on one of Niall's old hoodies and pink cotton shorts. My heart always broke when she wore one of his hoodies, but I never said anything.

"Morning campers" her head tilts up and looks at us the hood almost covering her eyes.

"Its almost 2pm" Will speaks, eyes rolling.

Dee shoots him a look and he gives her one in return. I hated it when they had this tension between them, it was even worse when they argued and I'm stuck in the middle. Although I do usually agree with Delilah, Will would freak if I argued against him. So I tend to just keep quiet.

The pair of them are bickering like a pair of 5 year olds, over god know what this time. I think I hear something about a cup in the sink. I sit with my own thoughts grabbing the small charm on my necklace and pulling it up and down the chain. Waiting for them to finish whatever the hell they are urging over. "Why do you even still have that thing?"

I shoot my eyes to will who is pointing at my necklace.

"I don't know, I just like it" I shrug looking down at the rusted charm. I can feel Delilahs eyes on me, as a small smile creeps up on my face.

"What even is it?" the snappy tone wiping off any trace of a smile from my face.

"A humming bird."

My mind pulls me back to the morning of my 18th birthday. Just me and H in the kitchen, the look on his face as I opened the gift. His messy curls being hid under his hoodie but a few hanging over his forehead. I then get the memories of finding him in my bedroom midway through my party, him holding the necklace in the palms of his hands. Asking if he could put the necklace on me himself.

That night was the most intimate me and harry had ever been, the closest I had ever felt to my best friend. And yet the next morning I was the furthest away from him I had ever been.

I'd never mentioned Harry or the boys to Will, because then I would have to stop wearing the necklace, and my green uni hoodie. Whenever I wear it around him I always roll up the cuffs to hide the embroidery. I also took all of the boy's clothes with me when I left home. Im not completely sure why, I think I was sacred my mum would throw them out. I still wear them occasionally especially when I paint, it sounds strange but wearing them helps me paint.

Helps me think.

I haven't taken the necklace off since my 18th birthday, not wanting to tarnish some of my last touches with Harry. He was the last person to touch the claps of the chain, and I'm not ready to let that go yet. Parts of the gold metal has tarnished, turning a dull grey from where I touch the small bird regularly.