Infatuated (hsau)

chapter 62.

°°
I can hardly speak
And when I try, it's nothing but a squeak
On the video, living room for small
If you can't survive, just try

And I always wanna die sometimes
°°

Harlow Dean

I don't think my heart has ever dropped so fast in my life.

There was that awkward moment where I looked at Harry and laughed. I genuinely laughed because I thought he was pulling some sick joke on me...I wish he was.

But as I sat waiting for him to crack a smile the realisation began to creep in that he wasn't in fact joking. Still part of me hoped he was, so I kept that smile on my face waiting for him to give me one back...

But he never did.

My heart shattered into a million pieces and I felt each piece fall into my stomach, joining that pit of eternal sadness that never seems to budge. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to crawl up and die but all that I managed to do was dig my nails into the palms of my hands as I sat with my head dropped forward and my eyes pinched shut.

I couldn't feel a thing. I couldn't feel the sadness I so desperately wanted to, I couldn't feel Harry's hand on my knee and I couldn't feel my nails digging into the skin on my palms.

In situations like this I'm no use to anyone. I go quiet and I can't feel any emotions so I don't show how I'm feeling at all. I could see the worry on Harry's face however it felt like I was dreaming, like I wasn't even present in my own body so no matter how loud I internally screamed at myself to say something, I just couldn't.

The worst part is that I probably seem so silly for being like this over a cat, however Willow wasn't just my cat, she was all I had.

I heard the boys step out beside me and I saw Harry nod them off, thanking them for their help before going from crouched on the ground in front of me to sat cross legged with his hands on my knees.

"Stop that," he says quietlly, reaching for my hands however I pulled them back straight away. "Birdy you're gonna hurt yourself c'mon."

He tried to reach for my hands again however I protested by placing them into my lap, dropping my head to my knees where Harry's hands were placed.

"Wish I never dragged you into this mess birdy, it's destroying you." He whispered, running his hands through my hair gently as we sat on my doorstep because I couldn't bring myself to move. He then leaned forward, kissing the top of my head "destroying me seeing you like this too."

Why can't I even feel the sadness I'm supposed to?

Harry grabbed my hands, not giving me the opportunity to pull them away, "Harlow stop, look at your hands darlin',"

When I do lift my head from my knees and look at my open hands Harry is holding I realise I had actually pierced the skin on the palms of my hands with how tightly I was holding them shut. I didn't even feel myself doing it either, I barely even realised until now.

Harry moved from sitting across from me and decided to sit on my doorstep next to me instead. The darkness outside feels very fitting for this cold, upsetting atmosphere that's been created and not even when Harry wrapped his arm around me did I feel remotely better. If anything I felt worse, I hate being somebody he has to constantly comfort because I'm all fucked up in the head.

"You're gonna come live with me for a bit birdy." He tells me, holding my hands to prevent me from doing any more damage.

I shook my head, leaning my head forward on to my knees again. I felt Harry's hand on my back rubbing circles as his other hand held both of mine so I wasn't hurting myself.