Priory // h.s.

chapter fifty-one

Our meeting quickly develops into an avid argument between Niall and Harry. Niall has come to the conclusion that August tenth is a long, long ways away. He proposes that we make our move sooner, break into the hangar and destroy all the vials before the plane can even arrive to take them away.

"And how will we know those vials are the final serum, huh?" Harry counters, running a hand through his hair grumpily. "It'll be such a waste of time if we go and waste all that time only to find out those were only prototypes and Damon's still got an enormous supply of the real Invections under his ass. And we won't be able to do shit about it because we'll be in jail."

Niall glowers at him. "Jesus, Styles, it was just a suggestion."

Harry folds his arms. "It was stupid."

"Look, I know that you're always in a bad mood for some reason, but don't take it out on Niall," Jillian says irritably.

Giving her an expression of shock, Harry hisses, "You stay out of this. After all, your ex-boyfriend is a-"

"Harry, shut up," I interrupt. "All of you, just shut up!"

Three wide pairs of eyes blink at me. Jillian sighs and reaches out to calm me like one would a little child. I jerk away from her. "Stop with that condescending air. I might be shorter than you or act a little childish sometimes, but you guys are all being total brats. This case was supposed to bring us together, remember? If we're not a team, everything falls apart. Niall, Jillian, I know you two mean well, but I think it would honestly be better if we waited till August tenth. We're going to need all the time we can get in order to prepare for the, erm, siege."

The beginnings of a self-satisfied smirk are forming on Harry's lips as he watches me chew the others out. Before he can get too smug, I turn on him. "And you. Stop trying to shut everyone out all the time. Stop acting like you're better than them. I get so sick of you sometimes, I swear to God."

"What?" He stares at me with wide eyes. He can't seem to believe what I just said. I can't believe it either.

What's wrong with me?

I'm too emotional to even respond to everyone's stunned expressions. I feel like throwing things and screaming. As if we didn't already have enough to worry about, they have to start freaking arguing about petty matters? 

Still, now I'm the bad guy for losing my temper.

Giving a ragged sigh, I mumble, "I'm going to read for a little bit. Tell me if you guys figure out anything imminently important. Otherwise just leave me alone."

Jillian bites her lip and frowns. Niall takes her hand and gives it a small squeeze. Harry stares stubbornly at his feet, refusing to meet my gaze. I fight the bitter feeling in my heart, but I can't deny that there's a part of me that wishes he let himself care. That he would join me and be there for me and make me feel less alone.

It's a silly expectation, and I have only myself to blame for the sheen of tears that begin forming over my eyes. 

After a moment, I give up waiting for Harry to look up at me and head over to the sofa with my book. As I flip it open and begin scanning the pages, I hear the others resume their conversation.

 —

At some point, I drift off into a light doze, book lying on my stomach, head nestled into the crook of the sofa's armrest. Through my half-awake senses, I pick up the sound of light footsteps approaching. 

"She's asleep, Harry," Niall's thick accent says from somewhere across the room. "Don't wake her."

"I wasn't going to wake her," Harry's voice says from right above me. I fight the urge to open my eyes at his proximity, keeping up the pretense of being asleep.

"Well, don't watch her sleep. That's just creepy, mate," Niall calls.

 "Shut the hell up." I hear Harry come closer. Seconds later, a pair of arms slip around my waist. Harry lifts me to his chest, my small body fitting into his hold easily. I nearly drop my act and open my eyes, but at the last moment decide against it.

Niall shuffles past us. "Harry, you're being an idiot."

"I'm just putting her in bed. She can't sleep on the sofa."

"Not what I meant," Niall responds. I can hear the sound of his socked feet as he goes to sit on the couch I previously occupied. "You know how you feel about her. Hell, everyone does--except her. Tell her."

Harry tenses, his arms tightening around me. I'm dying to crack open my eyelids and see his expression, but I squeeze them shut. "That's not fair, Niall. I can't tell her. You know why."

Niall sighs. "I know, mate. All I'm saying is, if you lose her, you'll never forgive yourself."

Without responding, Harry pushes open the door to the bedroom. An instant passes, and I find myself being lowered onto the plush mattress below. Harry brings the blanket up to my chin as he tucks me in, humming softly. I almost smile when I recognize the tune: You'll Be In My Heart. A feeling of nostalgia washes over me.

Twisting in bed, I snuggle into the pillow, slowing my breathing so it really looks like I've been asleep all this time. Harry leans down again, flooding my nose with his sharp scent. I feel his lips press against my forehead in a tender kiss.

"God, Amber," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

Then the door closes softly, and he's gone.

  —

Sometime during my sleep, he returns, because he's there when I wake up, sitting on the edge of my bed, his hair resting against the headboard at an awkward angle. He gives me a crooked smile without looking at me, rubbing the back of his neck with a sore wince. "Hey."

I stretch and blink at him. "Hey," I say quietly. The conversation between him and Niall that I'd overheard returns to my mind. "You know how you feel about her."  What did Niall mean? And why did Harry say he couldn't tell me how he felt?

Harry takes a deep breath, fingers drumming agitatedly on his knee. "Two weeks," he mutters. "Two weeks and we finally confront Damon and Mr. Lee about Project Invect. Are you ready?"

Of course I'm not ready. Didn't my yelling fit in the living room prove that?

"I don't know. Does it matter if we're ready? It has to be done." I chew on my lower lip and fiddle with my hands. 

The silence seems to stretch on for years, each second driving another mile between us. Harry runs a hand over his face in frustration, and I fix him with an expectant look.

"Why are we like this, Amber? We had the closest friendship, remember? And now we can hardly be in the same room together," Harry says regretfully.

I look away, not giving him the satisfaction of my pity. "You know why."

"Yeah, I do. But I'm not sure you do." His tone turns determined.

I freeze, tentatively meeting his harsh gaze. "What?"

He stands and rakes his hand through his hair, fraught with indecision. Then he pauses and sets his jaw in desperation, half-begging me as he says, "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"I need to tell you the truth."

@hellokittyblah found a song called The Words by Christina Perri. the lyrics fit this story so well <3

this was kind of a cruel way to end the chapter, wasn't it?