That Summer Feeling [H.S.]

68. Summer Love

HARRY

When the door softly clicks closed, my body turns hollow. I stare at the golden doorknob, tempted to turn it open again. That would be the right thing to do.

My feet swiftly turn and move down the empty hallway, never turning back despite my gut telling me to do so. I never do the right thing anyway. Doesn't make sense for me to start now.

All I know is that I can't be here anymore.

I let out a deep sigh, releasing the heaviest breath as soon as my body hits the couch. I only get a brief moment of quiet until I get hit with regret as I take in my new settings of the pool house.

I shouldn't have left.

She told me she loves me last night.

And I just left.

She told me she loves me last night and all I did was leaving a fucking note.

A note. A piece of random paper I found in one of the drawers. A paper filled with words that took me less than a minute to think of and less than five seconds to write down because I was in such a hurry to leave.

She told me she loves me.

The words I never expected to hear out of her lips.

Felt like I was fucking dreaming when I heard them at first. Fucking thought I hallucinated it.

Those three words sounded so effortless and beautiful rolling off her tongue. Like fucking honey dripping from the sweetest nectar.

But it took all of two minutes for me to realize she actually said them and I didn't imagine it. For reality to set in. And once I realized it, my brain was sent into fucking overdrive.

The words lost their seductive, bliss-filled nature and turned into a haunting dream that I couldn't escape. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop replaying those words. It was almost like I couldn't even breathe.

As soon as I saw the first sight of morning light, I got up and gathered my things around. I cleaned the mess I created a few hours prior. I quickly decided I should leave some sort of note, a sentence or two giving her a poor excuse and to soften the blow when she wakes up to an empty bed.

After all, I wasn't sure if she knew I heard her or if she even meant to say what she did.

I don't know where to go from here now. Maybe it's not too late to go back.

"Oh, hey Harry," Niall almost startles me as he enters the room. He nods his head at me as he walks past the couch. "Didn't hear you come in last night."

"I didn't." I crack my knuckles and blink at the floor, ignoring the sting I felt behind my eyes a second ago. "I just came in."

I don't know how long I've been sitting here. Time is too meshed together right now for me to care.

"You okay? Have you slept yet?" Niall asks, sitting next to me on the couch with a bowl of cereal in his hands, squinting his eyes at me.

"No."

"Yeah, looks like it." He snorts.

"Fuck off," I murmur as I rub my face, wanting to wake every nerve but only feeling myself grow more tired.

"You don't want to take a nap before the wedding or somethin'?"

"No." I quietly sigh.

The fucking wedding. Shit. I couldn't have picked better timing to be an asshole.