Tell me again how you hate me

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝- Adore you

Juliet
Author's Note

It's a long chapter babes, get ready for some whiplash.

I apologize in advance...
***

Niall was currently in the bathroom as Harry and I set the table.

We had just finished making dinner. It was chicken and rice. It actually smelled pretty good.

"Have you been eating at all?" Harry asked as I set the plates down.

I looked up at him, my face covered in confusion. His gaze was strong though, his features soft and filled with slight worry.

I was going to fire back at him with a sarcastic remark or make fun of him or something but the look in his eyes made me want to melt into the floor.

I averted my eyes, shaking my head in disbelief of how easily he ruined my composure.

"Yeah, I usually eat breakfast and dinner." I say quietly still avoiding his eyes.

"Okay." He whispered before heading over to the counter and grabbing the bowl of rice and setting it done on the table as well.

I wanted to say something again but I couldn't find any words. I didn't like how quiet he was or the lack of response from him.

I felt the need to fill in the silence, to talk to him, to interact with him. It didn't feel right being this close to him and not speaking.

I'll admit the last 6 days were miserable. I had to be with him everyday and then sleep without him. I had to sit a few feet away from him and not speak like we usually do.

I didn't sit in his lap at the piano, or even next to him. We didn't take lunch breaks out on the terrace together anymore. We didn't lay facing each other in his bed talking before we fell asleep. I didn't wake up next to him anymore. I wasn't welcomed by a fresh out of the dryer robe every time I came out of the shower. I didn't have him by my side when I struggled to eat. I didn't have him holding me when I got overwhelmed. I wasn't here to run his temples when he got a headache or paint his nails new colors every time he wanted a new color. I wasn't here to stop him from drinking too much when he was stressed or upset.

Was he drinking while I was gone? I bet he was drunk nearly every night.

The one thing that never changed though was every morning I came up to the apartment there was a warm cup of coffee on the table next to the couch I work on.

Every morning without fail.

I guess it kind of surprised me that he thought about me when I wasn't here. I thought about him nearly every second of my day.

It was difficult not to touch him, talk to him, make jokes or just interact with him.

I was drawn to him and I cared about him way too much, I know that. I didn't really care about my feelings anymore because I knew what they were.