𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺

harry styles' pov

"I can't believe how stupid she can be sometimes. Ridiculous." I complain to myself as I drive along the backroad that leads to the forest trail. The trail that we'd used to go to whenever we were bored. And sometimes even met there without planning it ahead of time.
I once ran there to be alone after I had one of the worst panic attacks I've ever had. When I came across the small bridge, I saw her sitting there, her legs dangling off of the edge. She noticed me before I had noticed her, and within a few seconds she was on her feet and embracing me. Her arms wrapped around me so tightly I almost couldn't breathe, but I didn't care.
It was one of the best feelings in the world. Her touch.
As much as I hated that I couldn't just get over her, I kept driving until I reached the spot where I could park and then walk up. Voices in the back of my mind argued, telling me that I was the one who let her go. I walked away and I shouldn't be the one to regret it. I shouldn't still be worrying over her and coming to her whenever I'm concerned.
I should be over her. My mind shouldn't keep picturing her brown eyes and hearing her contagious laugh, torturing me.
I got out of my truck and slammed the door, before jogging into the woods, staying along the path that was barely even visible anymore. Luckily, I'd been on it so many times I think I could remember every twist and turn.
I was getting close, and was feeling nervous about seeing her.
I tried to tell myself that I can't make this awkward or weird. I'm checking on her, yeah, but I can't let my emotions get the best of me. She's the one who kept things from me and shared them proudly with someone she barely knew. How am I supposed to take that?
     Plus, she's happy with them now.
     When I finally reach the area that was clear in her picture, the little clearing where she'd love to sit, it was empty. Lacking any sign of her. I cursed under my breath and walked along it, careful not to slip on the wood.
     When I stepped into the woods again, I saw something in the corner of my eye, before I looked more closely, walking towards the shape. Once I got close enough, I realized she was sitting there on a log with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
     "What are you doing?" I asked aloud, hoping not to scare her as I walked a bit closer.
     Her gaze shot up to meet mine, and her eyes were bloodshot. Tears stained her cheeks where they had dried and her brows knitted together when she watched me kneel down in front of her.
     As much as I tried to be stern, I was worried. Her body seemed under a lot of stress, and I inhaled sharply as I took all of her in. "Elle, what the fuck are you doing here alone? You know it's dangerous..."
     She didn't answer me, but seemed like she was thinking on what to say.
     "Why are you crying?" I asked.
     Her eyes locked on mine for what felt like an eternity. I didn't interrupt, but after a few moments, I realized she herself didn't even know what to tell me. "Elle, what's wrong? Just tell me."
     "I just don't feel good," she admitted.
     Her voice sounded so fragile, like she'd break any second.
     "Where?"
     She hesitated at first, like she didn't even know what to say or how to respond, but she slowly pulled her hand up to her chest near the left side and placed it over her heart. This didn't sit well with me as my body shuddered uncomfortably at her response.
     "Your chest?" I asked, my voice wavering a bit.
     "My heart," she corrected.
     Ouch. That fucking hurt.
     I couldn't stop seeing the image of her standing by the door, her face covered in tears as I turned and left. Telling her she was a hypocrite and telling her to shut up. Those moments kept creeping into my mind as if to tell me how much of a dick I was to her. I knew better than to speak to a woman like that, much less the one I love.
     I took her blanket in my hand where it had fallen a little and wrapped it around her tightly. This seemed to confuse her as she watched me with curious eyes. "Why are you really here?"
     This caught me off guard as I pulled my hand away from her. Her tone started to change a little, but I tried to stay calm with her. "I was worried, Elle. You can't be here by yourself—"
     "Why not?"
     "It was raining earlier, you know how the bridge gets slippery when it rains—"
     "I don't care," she cried out.
     I saw a glimpse in her eyes before she shut them and brought her hands to her head. "Please just leave me alone."
     "Elle—"
     "I can't do this," suddenly her eyes were in front of mine again as she leaned up. "I can't talk to you right now. Please, just leave me alone. I don't want you to see me like this."
     I started to raise my hand to her face to wipe away the tear that had trickled down to her chin, but something in her expression stopped me. And in her words.
     I froze, and let my hand fall back down to my knee. "I don't want you to be alone out here. It's dangerous."
     "I'd rather be alone," she argues with me.
     When I realize she's certain on me leaving, I nod. "Okay, I'm going. Just, be careful, okay?"
     I stand up again and she turns her gaze away from mine, as if it disgusts her to look at me. But I respect her wish.
     I take the trail back the same way I came and make my way to my truck. But instead of leaving, I wait there until she leaves. No matter how long that'll take. I slouch down in my seat and stare out of the window at the trail's end. I don't care how long she stays out there. But I won't leave until she does.