By the time the lesson had ended I had leaned into Harry half asleep. I groggily looked up when people started to file out of the room. I grabbed my bag and stood up stretching. I yawned and tried to blink the sleep out of my eyes. I glanced at Harry to find him eyeing the waist band of my jeans.
"Are you wearing my boxers?" Harry asked a sly smirk taking over his features.
"Don't smirk at me like that," I told him grumpily glaring at him. He held up his hands in defense and grabbed his things as well. We walked together to the door until we parted out separate ways to go to our last class before lunch. I felt a little disappointed not to get another kiss on the cheek, but I realized that I was pretty pathetic for thinking that.
I tried not to think of Harry in class, but he always seems to be on my mind. I can never stop thinking about him. As stupid as it sounds, sometimes I imagine what it would be like if we were together. I could wake up wrapped in his arms and then we could whisper sweet things, giving one another spontaneous kisses, and then I could go make breakfast and he would wrap his arms around my waist and sweetly kiss my neck and shoulder and whisper he loves me, and we could hold hands and flaunt our love in front of people. We would be the couple everyone was jealous of because of how in love we were. I almost laugh at the thought of those things actually happening. Harry would never be that person. He did not date, and he most certainly did not fall in love. For a long time I didn't know how to feel about Harry and his constant mood swings. And for an even longer time I refused to believe I was in love with him. I didn't want to be in love with him. He would only hurt me. Harry, despite his soft side, could be cruel. I have no doubt in my mind that if Harry was to find out about the way I feel towards him he would pretend to feel the same to get in my pants and toss me aside afterwards. I almost get mad at myself for thinking that about him, but I know its true. My chest aches at the thought. I think about the way he just tends to get women and then toss them out like dirt. I realize how much I hate that side of him now. I don't know if its extreme jealousy, or just that I know how wrong it is, but I was suddenly so angry at him. For a lot of things. For hurting so many women, for pushing me away when I only care too much, for not feeling the way about me that I feel about him. I was practically fuming by the time class was dismissed and it was time for lunch. I knew I couldn't see Harry. Not right now. I would blow up at him, he would blow up at me, then it would just be chaos. I don't want that despite my anger.
I hated how I would do anything for him and how I really didn't want to fight. Today was such a nice day too. I don't know what's wrong. Just thinking about it makes me want to scream. So instead of heading to lunch I head to the dorm. I would just stay here until lunch was over and return to my last class and then I would have to come home to Harry, who has been unpredictable lately. One minuet he's mean and sleeping around the next he's inviting me to his family's home. I don't know what's going on between us. It's like we've both got something to say, but we don't know what.
I arrived at the dorm in record time. I quickly walked out of the building and then basically sprinted the rest of the way in hopes to avoid anybody. I was not in the mood to make small talk. I wasn't hungry, so instead I just sat on the couch. I had lost my appetite thinking of how many women Harry had messed around with. I was so inexperienced and almost innocent compared to him. I wonder why he wanted to be my friend. I hadn't really thought about it before now. Everything seemed to just settle at the diner that day. So, I never questioned it again. Maybe it's because you know you won't like the answer my subconscious tells me. I probably wouldn't. There is just no possible explanation as to why he would want to be friends with someone like me. He was him. Tattoos, and misfits, and girls. I was me. Books, studying, and overachieving perfectionist. I curled up on the couch staring blankly at the tv. I wish I knew why everything was so complicated.
