Trust Me (A Harry Styles Fan-Fic)

Chapter 8

Bethany's POV

Simon had shut the door with a knowing smirk. He just left me standing here by myself with Harry Styles. Usually I wouldn't have cared, but I've been trying ignore any little thing that brought up Chace and quite frankly, Harry was one of those things that reminded me of him. 

I took in a shakey breath, trying to fight the nerves that were overcoming my body. I didn't want to have a conversation with him, knowing it would lead back to the second most painful thing that had ever happened in my life. Yet, he stood here, staring at me with a blank expression. 

His hair was still styled the way it was when he came. It was if not a single strand of hair had moved in it's place on his head. His lips were dry and cracked a bit, but somehow, they were still a deep pink color. His eyes were almost more green than when I look at them in the dark hallway. Yet, even then his eyes were so green it seemed impossible for them to look like that in the dark. His t-shirt and jeans were still tidy and wrinkle free on his body. The brown boots he had on were scuffed up and dirty. 

He rolled his lips together as he looked at me. Though, instead of the usual creeper eyes going up and down my body, they remained on my face. They didn't even move from my eyes really. They held their place, just simply looking at mine. 

"What're you doing here, Harry?" My voice is shakey, almost cracking at the end. 

"Well, I was here for the meeting with you." He answer smartly and I bite my lip to fight the urge of saying something smart back. 

"I have dishes to wash. Excuse me." I push past him and go to check on Jack who is still dead asleep on the couch. 

The movie had stopped playing, and the credits were rolling in. He hadn't moved from the position he was in an hour ago, his head still resting on the pillow with the blanket wrapped tightly around him. I turned the TV off before walking back towards the kitchen. 

Harry was hot on my heals and I almost turned around to yell at him, but I continued to use all of my strength not to. 

"When is he getting picked up?" Harry's raspy voice fills the entire room. It was deep, yet had this underlying sound that could make anyone's attention in the room go straight to him. 

"10:00. So five more minutes. Why?" I answer, but feel the need to question him. 

"Because we need to talk." He says simply and I roll my eyes knowing that he's standing behind me against the counter and won't see me. 

"Yes, I've realized though I really wish you'd tell me what it was about." 

"You know what it's about. Don't play dumb. I hate that." He snaps and I turn around from the sink and begin to load the dishes into the dishwasher. 

"Not playing dumb. I just don't understand what relevance there is between us that we need to have some lengthy discussion." I sigh, continuing to set each plate in the sink. 

"Guess you'll find out then." He saunters over to the barstool and sits down as he waits for me to finish loading the dishes. 

"Fantastic." I sarcastically murmur to myself, but I know he heard it because I can feel the glare in my back. 

The door is knocked on and I walk slowly towards the foyer. Harry is behind me and I turn around and give him a questioning look. 

"What? It's 10 o'clock at night. What if it isn't Vanessa and it's some creepy guy? Wouldn't you want me to open the door?" He sasses and I give him an annoyed look. Though, my heart starts to beat faster at his caring words. Although they came out as rude, the idea of it all was actually really nice.