Set Free // HS ✓

Forty.

We're about halfway through our hour and a half long flight to Sydney, and I can't stop myself from scowling at Harry as he eats his cauliflower steak.

Cauliflower. Steak.

He's driving me crazy.

Everything this man does infuriates me.

He's just over there eating his stupid not-steak, with his stupid silverware and... breathing.

"Feeling alright? You're looking a bit poorly this morning."

I close my eyes and count to three to stop myself from snapping at Liam's question because Niall and Max asked me the same earlier.

"I'm not sick, I'm just not wearing any makeup today."

"You sure?" Liam presses, "Looks like you haven't slept in a month."

"Jet lag," I lie.

More like, I haven't been able to sleep a wink the past two night because I miss a certain curly-haired douchebag.

The only thing that makes me feel better is seeing the same bags underneath his eyes as well.

Good. I hope they cause him to age prematurely.

Not that it would make him any less attractive.

Ugh.

"Mm, I understand that," Liam muses, "Touring this part of the world is always the hardest because we are on the opposite schedule than what we're used to."

"Yeah..." I shrug.

Thankfully Liam takes the hint and puts his earbuds back in.

Okay, Wren you really need to stop being a bitch to everyone. This isn't who you are.

I straighten up in my seat and ask the flight attendant for some coffee, hoping that it'll help perk me up a bit.

Harry and I haven't spoken since our argument, but that's not from lack of trying on his end; I've been avoiding him like the plague. Because I know myself. I'm weak. I'll forgive him the second he charms me.

I'm not falling for that trap.

Unfortunately, Louis is beating himself up over this. I've assured him that I'm not angry with him, or Taylor, for that matter.

I can't fault the girl for wanting Harry. That would be quite hypocritical, wouldn't it?

Right now, I just question Harry's logic on the topic of jealousy. He made an ass of himself the night he saw me speaking to Ryan. Yet, I'm supposed to be perfectly okay with the idea of him going out with an ex-girlfriend? How does that work?

Also, I've been actively trying to stop myself from scrubbing my body down in bleach. I feel so dirty and so stupid for letting him touch me. I get that dating secularly is a bit more invasive than the courting procedures that I'm used to... but damn.

How could I have just let my guard down like that?

Stupid, naive, Wren.

As if Harry is reading my thoughts, his tired eyes find mine, and I can't just simply look away.

My chest aches when I see just how exhausted he is.

That's all my fault.

Wait, no. No, it's not.

I break eye contact with the jerk and stare blankly out of the window.

His puppy dog eyes are not going to get to me.