Rising Stars [H.S]

37.

song: In My Life by The Beatles
play when you see the **

It's been about 8 hours since I last saw Harry, and I haven't heard a word from him.

He's been acting strange these past couple days, and I figured it's because of the photos and... us, but he told me he was going to come over tonight, and he's two hours late. At first I just figured he got caught up on something, but then when he didn't call my mind started to wander to different places.

Did he forget? Did he change his mind? Does he just not want to come? Is he with someone else? Me being the overthinker I am, has gone through every scenario possible, and it's fucking killing me. I won't dare call him; I just can't. I'm stubborn as hell, and if he wants to stand me up, then he needs to face it for himself. I'm not going to be needy and call him and act like I miss him or something.

If he got distracted or came up with other plans; great, but he should at least have the decency to call me and tell me. Hell, even a text would be nice.

I know I shouldn't be that upset over this, but it's kind of getting annoying now. Harry and I are falling into this continuous cycle of getting close, and then not talking for days straight, and it's getting old. I'm not saying I'm wanting Harry to admit he likes me or something, but maybe keeping in touch would be nice? You know, not just leaving me on the edge of my seat and not knowing where this is going. It's spontaneous, and I love that; but I also don't like being led on.

I've been flipping through channels on my small white leather couch in this condo, and I can't find anything good on. I watched The Office for a little bit before changing it to Gossip Girl, but that's about it. Even though the tv shows are playing, my mind can't stop thinking about what Harry is going.

He texted me right after he left my house saying he's be here at 7:00, well it's now 9:00 and I haven't head anything from him.

I groan in frustration before grabbing the tv remote and turning off the tv, jumping off the couch and walking towards the small bathroom connected to the living room. I look in the small mirror above the sink at my reflection, noticing the faint outline of bruises.

My wrist was completely healed from that night at the bar, but my jaw was still a little bruised. They definitely weren't as bad as they were, but I still would need makeup to cover them. They were turning into a light purple now, before they were very dark, almost green.

I bend over the sink closer to the mirror, tilting my head up and looking down at my neck, lightly grazing my fingertips over the sensitive skin. I flinch lightly when it hits the very center of the bruise before backing up from the mirror and walking out of the bathroom, back into the living room.

I grab my phone off the kitchen table and check it to see if I had any text notifications; none. It was now 9:10, and I still haven't heard a word. Should I just give in and call him? What if he got sick or something? Fucking hell.

Before I know it I am speed walking over to my front door, slipping on my sandals and grabbing my keys from off the kitchen table. I mentally slap myself in the face for this; I hate being such an over thinker. I always give in, but I can't help it; it's my nature.

I let out a frustrated groan with myself before unlocking the wooden door, swinging it open to be on my front porch, the smell of the ocean and the sound of the faint waves hitting the sand filling my senses. I take in a deep breath, closing my eyes and holding it in for a second as I stand in the door way. After a couple seconds I open my eyes to see Harry's house straight across the one way street from me, only a couple light being on inside.

I stand in the door way and observe the house for a moment. The dim lighting inside made it hard to make out anything on the other side of the windows, and there was no light on the top floor. I glare at the small beach house for just another moment before shutting my front door and stepping onto porch, walking to the top of the steps.