Half Bad // Harry Styles

Chapter 8

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♡ chapter 8 - Rose ♡

            Swirling thoughts of what Jessie and Harry could’ve been speaking about distracted me from the hurtful gesture Harry had just done. He had walked away, slamming the door behind him after I got shot in the leg by an arrow most likely from his father’s people. I know my wound isn’t his fault, but couldn’t he cut me a bit of slack instead of maintaining his jerkiness?

            What the hell am I saying; this is Harry we’re talking about.

            The boy with no feelings.

            But the pit of my stomach twisted as I got the gut feeling of despair with his absence. He had kept me occupied for so long, whether he was making fun of me or just being plain annoying. I couldn’t deny my slight crush on him, but it’s not like I could ever admit it to his face.

            Harry isn’t capable of loving someone.

            And while I may not be at the point of love yet, I know that Harry will never reach that peek in his life because of his harsh attitude all the time. He doesn’t know how to feel emotions, or how to even compliment someone. He’s just cold-hearted, and he’ll forever be that way.

            The door creaked open, carrying my thoughts away from the negative things I was pondering about Harry. God, there was so much wrong with that boy. Such a beautiful mystery hidden by the mask of aggression.

            I flopped my head over to see Harry peak his head through, but then I looked closer and noticed the brown eyes. My lips twitched into a frown, my mind still wishing it was Harry coming back, but Jessie flashed me a genuine smile. I had so many questions, and I prayed he was the opposite of Harry and actually gave me answers instead of deep paragraphs I can’t decipher.

            “Hey,” he said softly as he sat on the edge of the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

            I shrugged. “Exhausted, mentally tired, fatigued, pained—“

            Jessie chuckled, holding his hand up to halt me. “I get the point, love.”

            My heart did a little backflip at the sound of love leaving Jessie’s lips, but it still didn’t sound as sweet as if did coming from Harry. And while Harry uses it to make fun of me, it still sounded intoxicating leaving those plump lips.

            “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ramble,” I murmured as I twiddled my thumbs.

            Jessie smiled. “It’s not a problem, Rose. I actually came in here, because I was wondering if… I don’t know… you’d want to hang out?”

            I rose an eyebrow, my eyes flickering to the hole in my leg covered in bandages before looking back up at Jessie.

            He licked his lips. “Yeah, that could be an issue. But I could just carry you outside, and we could talk in the grass, you know?” Jessie’s lips curled into a small grin. “I want to get to know the girl my brother oh-so-happily drug into this mess.”

            The sarcasm was obvious, and I wanted to ask what “mess” he was talking about, but I brushed it off. Instead, I asked another question that’s been revolving in my mind for hours now. “Jessie, how come you can touch me and Harry can’t with my bracelet on?”