boys don't cry. [h.s]

seven

February

She only vaguely remembered where Harry lived, but her feet were carrying her there before she could remind herself what a stupid idea it was. It was raining so heavily that her hair was plastered to her face, her tears blending with the rain and falling into her open mouth, her teeth chattering so harshly she thought they might start to fall out.

The rain poured down from the black, black sky with no indication it would ever let up, and Isabel felt like if there was ever a time for realised pathetic fallacy, this was it. Her chest was like it was being squeezed, like it had been clamped and everything inside was trying to smash its way out. Never in her life had she felt this way, never had she wanted to fall in between the cracks in the pavement and disappear, to crawl to the bottom of the bed her parents had when she was little and wrap the covers around every single part of her and curl up there forever.

She walked for so long, tripping over uneven parts of the pavement that were concealed by puddles and sobbing so hard her throat hurt. Her clothes were sodden, sticking to her skin like wet newspaper that's been blown onto the pavement and trodden on by hundreds of feet, pathetically clinging to the ground. Eventually, though, she wandered into a street with larger houses that had iron gates and trimmed hedges, with family cars parked outside and loft extensions, and she realised she was close.

A man with a black umbrella and a briefcase was walking just in front of her, and although it was complete stupidity to speak to a strange man when it was past midnight and she had no phone battery, she was desperate. She ran and grabbed his arm, and he jumped about a foot in the air in surprise, yelping loudly.

"Fucking Christ!" he yelled. "I thought you were going to rob me! Fuck!"

"I'm so sorry," Isabel said, and her voice was noticeably hoarse and broken from crying. "It's just – I'm sorry, it's just really need directions to Southdown Avenue, do you know how I get there?"

"It's just three streets that way," he replied, squinting down at her. "Are you all right, love?"

"Just fine," she assured him unconvincingly. "Thank you. And sorry about scaring you."

She ran the rest of the way, nearly tripping over three times, finally making it to Harry's road. Number 17, she repeated to herself over and over again as she sprinted the rest of the street, eventually stopping outside the big black door and not hesitating for a moment before hammering on the wood.

She only had to wait a few seconds before the door swung open, and she was completely ready to collapse into Harry's arms, a sob breaking from her lips when a confused Niall stared back at her.

"Jesus," he said. "What the fuck happened to you?"

"Where's Harry?" she gasped, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her breath after running. She laid a hand over her heart, running the other hand through her soaking hair frantically. "I need Harry, where's Harry?!"

"It's all right babe, calm down," Niall said, pulling her inside and shutting the door behind her. As she stood in the hall, water dripping from her hair and clothes and creating a puddle on the wood floor, her strangled gasps and echoing around the room, Niall bounced worriedly in front of her and flapped his arms in confusion. "What happened?"

Zayn came into the hall, Xbox controller in hand, and raised his eyebrows. "Isabel, are you all right?"

"Of course she's not all-fucking-right!" Niall snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with her, Zayn?"

Zayn walked over, gripping her shoulders and staring into her eyes as Isabel struggled to breath. "Do you need some water?"

She nodded, and Zayn led her into the kitchen, barking at Niall to get her towels and a change of clothes. Now that furniture had been brought back in after the party, Isabel could see that the entire downstairs, besides the hall, was open plan – sofas and a TV, paused on a game of FIFA, sat to the side of the familiar kitchen. Zayn made her sit on the counter as he poured her a glass of water and she downed it with big, desperate gulps.