Fate (h.s.au)

XVIII

"I say fuck it," Miranda calls from her kitchen, my body sitting on the floor. I lay back, not wanting to face the fact that my feelings are developing for Harry.

"I'm not going to be with him," I groan, covering my face with my hands.

"Lina, he clearly wants you. And you are starting to want him. Do the natural thing," Brenna tells me, my lips emitting a groan.

Brenna left the bar with her soulmate the night I got drugged. I have not seen much of her lately because the two connected perfectly. I, on the other hand, am struggling. Not because I have to, but because I want to.

"He's an asshole," I sigh, the two of them saying 'we know' simultaneously. I sit up and Miranda hands me a glass of wine, my hand bringing it to my lips. I pound the glass and the two of them look at each other before looking at me.

"Fuck off," I tell them, both of them smiling at me.

"Maybe if you drink a little more, you'll drunk call him and profess that you love him," Miranda teases, and I glare at her.

"Or get the courage to at least tell him how you're feeling," Brenna adds, my eyes rolling. They are unbelievable. The two have always tried to make me into someone I'm not.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm feeling!" I groan, laying back on the floor. "He pisses me off but then there are times I don't mind being around him."

"What's one thing you like about him?" Brenna asks, my lips pursing. I've never broken it down like this before. Maybe weighing the good and the bad may help.

"Well, he has nice eyes and dimples," I start, thinking about him. "And he has nice hair. Nice body."

I sit up, trying to think about anything else. Harry has it going for him in looks, but his personality is currently the only negative.

"So he's hot, but has shit personality," Miranda gathers, and I nod.

"Maybe, if you would open your mind to the possibility that he's a nice guy, he would 'change' to you," Brenna suggests, and I shake my head.

People don't change. People, also, may seem like one thing, but turn out to be someone they're not. My father is the prime example of that one.

"Give it a shot. See what happens," Miranda encourages with her, my lips pressing together.

I don't know what to do. This whole thing is a load of shit.

"I'm going for a smoke. Maybe a walk too. I'll text you if I go home," I tell them, deciding I need a break from this. They tell me to be safe and I put my Vans on, walking out of the house.

As I smoke, I see a group of people gathered outside of the bar and I walk over. My eyes scan and I'm unable to see Harry near the entrance.

Maybe the girls are right. I should just fuck it and go for something I don't even know. There's always some type of potential in Harry. He's my soulmate; a pain in the ass, more like.

When I finish the cigarette, I walk over to the bar and ask the bouncer on door duty if Harry's here.

"He usually doesn't work Tuesdays, sweetheart," the weed-smelling man tells me. I walk away, looking at my phone. He hasn't tried to call or text me since I kicked him out the other morning.

It's almost weird for him not to. I've gotten so used to Harry's messages.

I stand at the corner of the street, debating which way to go. Left is the way to my house. Straight is the way to his. My heart is racing and I pull out another cigarette, lighting it as I walk down the street.

Thoughts pool in my mind and I continuously keep telling myself to throw caution into the wind. It's too late for caution.

My hand flicks the cigarette into the street and I walk up the steps to the building, opening the door. The echo of my shoes are the only sound in the hall and I knock on the door, swallowing what feels like my pride.

I knock again when I don't get an answer the first time, my lip taken between my teeth. My jaw clenches as I start to get pissed, knowing this was a stupid idea.

But the door swings open, my eyes looking up. Bright green eyes meet mine and I feel my words get stuck in my throat. My breathing is right there with them.

So I just take a step forward and grab his face, pulling him to me. His lips land on mine and I feel him kiss me, my heart hammering so hard against my chest I feel like my ribs will break.

Harry moves his lips with mine, grabbing my waist as I allow our kiss to keep going. His lips are just as soft as they had felt beneath my fingertips; expertly moving with my own. When I feel as if I can't breathe, I pull away.

My head leans back and I remove from his grasp, his green eyes meeting mine. But I turn away, walking down the hall and out of the building before Harry can say a word.

"Holy fucking shit," I say under my breath, not able to comprehend what the hell just happened.