Trust » Harry Styles

five: unpredictable

Unpredictable
adjective;
not able to be predicted; changeable

I would have shouted at him, or hit him, or something, God, anything, but I couldn't find my voice, it was lost and unable to be used, ultimately, I was useless, as always. 

His eyes bore into mine and I wanted to turn away, but I felt weak against his hold, I kept chanting in my head over and over again, that this wasn't fair, no one was ever meant to have this effect on me, and I hated it, I really fucking hated it.

I wanted to run, but my legs wouldn't carry my weight.

I wanted to scream, but my voice was trapped in my throat.

I wanted to look away, but my eyes were help captive by his.

I wanted to just disappear, but unfortunately, that's impossible. 

This felt weird, really weird, and I don't even remember how I ended up here, in a smelly ally way beside the building I just came out of, but somehow I did, and I regret it, so much.

"Please."

My voice came out in a whisper, and it sounded horrible, croaky and weak. I don't want to be seen as weak.

"Why?"

"I just want to go home."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"You're crying, do you not expect me to help you?"

"I don't need your help, what I need, is to get out of his fucking dump and go home so I can take some fucking pain-killers and go to sleep for the rest of the day. Why can't you let me go?"

"Jesus Christ."

"He's not real, fuckwit."

His deep laugh echoed through the cramped laneway, it was loud against the concrete walls of the building, it was nice, but I wasn't going to let him affect me anymore.

There was a sigh, from the boy, Harry, his name is. He keeps popping up at the most random of times, nearly scaring me half to death. I don't know why he can't just leave me alone, I don't need him.

I head quick footsteps, and I thought he was finally giving up and letting me be, but when I looked up, my eyes came into contact with his chest, which was very, very close, too close for my liking. I didn't like people touching me, but you know what he did?

He hugged me.

He really, fucking hugged me.

As in, wraping his arms around my shounders, burried his head in the crook of my neck, and held me tightly.

I felt an overwhelming feeling spread through my chest, and it was getting harder to breathe, but the only thing I could do was stand there like a deer caught in headlights, and let him hold me like I was going to disappear at any second, which I established that was not possible. 

The way he suddenly pops up everywhere, and the way he hugged me right now, he's so unpredictable, and I'm not too sure if I like it or not.

I was seconds away from giving in, and returning the hug, because I was starting to feel that tiny shred of hope again, just like the first time he held me in his arms when I was a sobbing mess. 

The thought of giving in caused an unsettling feeling to wash through my body, and I hastily pushed him away, and turned and ran off in the opposite direction.

"Porsche!"

I didn't look back as he screamed my name over and over.