Chapter 20

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Chapter 20

Harry's POV

She's stuck in my thoughts, she won't go away. Lurking, torturing, driving me insane. Our quarrel keeps replaying in my head, and I feel as if I'm drowning in anger. Or stupidity.

"What is this, Karleigh?" My voice is so low, I didn't think she heard me at first.

"Huh?"

"Am I wasting my time trying to form something with you? Because god knows I don't have much of time." I tell her, although I know that was the dumbest question I've ever asked in my lifetime. I'd spend as much time as I could with this girl, and it'd never be a waste.

Even now as we sit here arguing, I'm content with her presence.

"It was just a dance Harry, I didn't take things too far he did. You are over-fucking-reacting." Her words are harsh, but a part of me knows she's right. I'm slightly over reacting, but she's infuriating, especially now while she's completely belligerent.

"You're right. We aren't even together." My words come out shaky, and I regret them as soon as they leave my lips. No, we aren't in a relationship, but I sure as hell wish we were. Isn't that what she wants as well? Probably not after what I just said.

I glance over at her to gage her reaction to my words, but her face is emotionless. For a moment I consider apologizing, but I know the damage is already done.

"I'm glad one of us said it..." Her tone is ice cold, and she turns away from me to stare out the window.

I can't stop pacing my bedroom, my fists gripping my hair aggressively. Before I can stop myself I slam my hand against my dresser, sending numerous objects that were on top of it, tumbling to the floor. Shit, I'm an idiot. I glare at my empty bed, and imagine how much better it would've been if she would've stayed over again.

Prison. That's the only comparison I can form to describe my bedroom at this moment. If I stay in here for a minute longer, I'll scream. I open my bedroom door and stomp down the stairs and into the kitchen. An empty cup is sitting on the counter and I grab it, filling it half way with water. Just as I finish the last of the water, the apartment door unlocks and swings open. Zayn walks in with a drunk Niall leaning against his side and draped around his shoulders.

"Wow, he's wasted." I state the obvious.

Zayn chuckles and lays Niall down across our couch. Niall mumbles something that neither Zayn or I can make out, and we both chuckle.

Zayn comes to the kitchen and joins me. "You didn't drink?" I ask him, surprised.

"Nah, I was busy deejaying." He explains. "Niall and Louis said you were bringing some girl, I didn't get to meet her." He says. I tense and look away before answering. "Yeah we left early." I'm staring off into space for a moment, and images of Karleigh start filling my mind again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Zayn asks.

"About what?" I feign confusion

"You're obviously having...girl issues." He rubs the back of his neck, and I can tell he feels uncomfortable about bringing up this topic. I hesitate at taking up his offer, but I can't stop thinking about her anyways...

"She was dancing with some guy, and he tried to uh... touch her. I happened to notice and I couldn't help but get defensive and pissed. When I talked to Karleigh about it, she said I was 'over-fucking-reacting' and of course, I had to say that it doesn't matter because we aren't in a relationship anyways." I tell Zayn, and after saying it out loud I only feel like a bigger idiot. Once again, the temptation to call Karleigh and apologize rushes over me.

"Well, damn. I mean, she was dancing with someone else but if you guys aren't together then you can't really get mad at her." From his response, I can tell that wasn't what he was expecting. "But if you want to be in a relationship with her, that probably wasn't the smartest thing to say." He adds and I glare at him.

As if I don't already know that. My eyes flicker to my phone that's resting on the counter, then back to Zayn. He's laughing and shaking his head. "Well Styles, good luck with your chick. If things work out, you'll need to introduce her." Zayn says and heads for the door.

Just as he's about to step outside, he says something else. "And uh, good luck with the hospital and stuff."

I nod in acknowledgment to his statement, but don't respond. When the door closes, I grab my phone off of the counter and walk through the living room to go upstairs. As I pass by the couch I stare at Niall, and can't help but chuckle at his unconscious state.

I enter my bedroom and sigh, prison again.

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