Seven Days [Harry Styles]

Eight

Chapter Eight, Sunday - We Fell

He doesn't come back the next morning.

Winter seems close to an end as the coldness that had formerly been there starts to disappear over and a warmth slowly creeping it's way in. I'm back in my basic polo shirt without the undershirt and soon enough, I know I might just have to switch out my jeans for a pair of shorts meant for the uniform in the summer.

I acknowledge that what I did was wrong, running away from my problems was a mistake. I made a mistake by being cowardly and escaping it...I didn't even say anything. I just left.

Overnight, I'd thought about it. That exhilarating feeling that flowed through body as our faces came closer, the consistent rapid uncontrollable beating of my heart. It made me feel stupid, honestly. I felt stupid because after hours of thinking, there was no other reason, I tried so hard to think of one but I couldn't.

I'd let him in way too fast, I let myself fall for him and trust him way too fast.

Don't trust anyone, only believe yourself.

That whole mindset, gone, down the drain. It'd been instilled in me for how long, I just couldn't remember. I could only vaguely recall someone telling me that, somewhere, someplace, and for some reason.

Why wasn't I happy that he didn't come back?

Wouldn't that mean I could build my walls back up, and ensure I wouldn't make that same mistake?

And continuing living like nothing ever happened.

Like it was just a dream.

That those six days meant nothing.

But I yearned for it, I wanted to be with him so bad. I regret running away, not taking that chance, and it stung badly. Every moment thinking...recalling that moment, would it have turned out differently? Because I was so scared of the future, it didn't happen.

Why did I allow myself to fall in love with him?

But at the same time. why did I prioritise a mindset which I didn't even need?

After his speech yesterday, I had this hope he would probably still come back. That he'd come and I could say sorry and have my happy ever after. The store was almost closing, and all those hopes were gone, and every inch of me wanted to just collapse.

I snap out of my thoughts, and I look towards the windows of the café.

My eyes meet with a pair of blue ones, staring straight at me, and for some reason, it felt like I was being pierced straight through. I couldn't see much more of this person, only that he was a brunette and had multiple markings, which were probably tattoos, on his arms.

He had this odd smirk on his face, like he knew something I didn't. It was frightening me, the stare he was giving me seemed so weird. It sent chills down my back for unknown reasons. I wanted to look away, but as I did so, my head began to throb painfully.

I groaned, clutching my head with my hand and I look back at the person, but he's gone. My feet carry me to the door as I swing it open.

Who is he?

I glance to my left, and I see the figure turning a corner a few meters away and I have the urge to run after him. I know I can't leave the counter unattended, despite the curiosity I was filled with at the moment.

That's when the employee who was going to take the shift after mine in a few minutes walks in and I can't help but feel relieved at the pure coincidence and timing. I shove my apron into her hands before telling her I had an emergency and ran straight in the direction of the figure.

I turn the same corner, but I stop in my tracks when I realise it's a dead end. It's a small alleyway that goes on for a short distance. I walk slowly in, being careful to avoid any puddles, or anything in general.

As I near the end of it, I think that that figure probably got away. But I find myself staring at a body on the ground, a beanie beside it. I don't think much of it. I assume it's probably just a drunk person, and that it wasn't strange to find one in secluded areas.

But a second glance at the beanie, I realise whose it belongs to. It's Harry's and I am absolutely sure of it. It had the same colour, design, and the chance of anyone having the exact same one wasn't exactly high.

"Harry?" I call out, creeping towards it.

It feels like a horror movie, and I'm not particularly a fan of jump scares.

"Shit." I mutter, when I find that the body is facing away, and all I can see is a mop of curls.

It has to be Harry.

I crouch beside him, and I am scared for my life. But I was even more scared as to finding out the reason why he was here, on the ground. I shake him slightly, in hopes that maybe he just got so drunk he fell unconscious. After a few tries, there's not response and I pull his body towards me, so I could see his face.

It is him.

His eyelids are shut, and there are multiple cuts on his right cheek. I look towards his chest hesitantly, and there a wound sits, with blood oozing slightly out of it. I scream, letting go of him and falling backwards.

No. No. No.

That's all I say to myself as I stare at him. My body is shaking, and my breathing is ragged. I have to think properly here. He could die.

I pull out my phone, pressing in the number for the hospital, and I tell them my situation. My voice wavers the whole way through, and my heart does not stop beating in a fast-paced manner even when they say that they'll be here soon.

I look at him, and that's when I realise he has a piece of paper pinned to his shirt, and with my trembling hands, I tear it off. My hands cover my mouth and I let out muffled sobs as I read the words.

I can't say anything, but let my world be engulfed by a pitch-black darkness, and the last thing I see is the same figure from earlier staring straight down at me.

Not all of us are innocent. Not all of us can make it out alive. And not all of us can remember the people we used to be.