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The next day Harry didn't even come to class.

I tried my best to ignore it as I made my way through the day, deciding that I had no reason to be worried about it, as I was quite sure that someone would've called me if Harry's lack of presence was a sign of something bad going on.

However, by the time my last class came around, I couldn't help but ask around to discover what Zayn's last class was, making my way towards it quickly when I found out in an attempt to catch him before he went in.

As soon as I reached it I peeked inside, checking if Zayn was already in the room quickly enough not to be discovered by the existentially bored teacher that was tiredly flicking through the pages of a magazine at the front desk. Thankfully he wasn't, so I just stopped next to the door, not really enjoying being so close to the flow of people that were going into the room - considering the class would've started at any minute - but knowing that if I'd stood on the other side of the corridor Zayn would've deliberately ignored me.

It wasn't long before I finally saw him coming my way. He glanced up from his phone as he walked, immediately stopping in his tracks when his eyes met mine. We stood there, some feet away from each other, for a few seconds, before he suddenly sighed and walked towards me.

"What do you want?" He asked me as soon as he reached me, a hint of annoyance in his voice as he spoke to me, but still moving aside not to block the way as he talked to me.

"I just wanted to know why Harry isn't here today" I replied, trying my best to ignore the fact that he clearly didn't want to talk to me, deciding that discovering the reason behind Harry's disappearance was way more important, considering I knew I would've thought about it the whole day otherwise.

Zayn rolled his eyes at my question. "He didn't feel like coming" he simply replied, seeming to have every intention of ending the conversation in that instant. Seeing him act like that, it wasn't in the slightest bit surprising that he and Harry were best friends, considering that they acted in the same exact way, with the only difference that Zayn sounded way more aggressive as he spoke, while Harry simply never seemed to care.

"Why?" I asked, trying to understand what was going on. I hadn't seen Harry since the afternoon before, so I didn't know if something had happened that I wasn't aware of. I was still a bit hurt that he hadn't come to my house, since it had never really happened before, and it had come so suddenly, leaving me to wonder if I'd done something that had upset him, or if the issue was something else at all. If it was something else, I wondered why he wasn't telling me. I'd already made it quite clear that I was there for him, so it hurt me to know that he didn't feel safe enough to share with me something that was worrying him that much. I definitely felt hurt by his behaviour, but I didn't want to tell him, because I didn't want to weigh him down with my own issues in a moment in which he seemed to have more than enough of his own.

Zayn rolled his eyes at my question. "He just didn't want to" he said harshly, moving to surpass me and walk inside the class.

I stopped him by putting my hand on his arm before he could go in, retracting it quickly when he gave me a sharp glare. "Do you know what's going on with him? He's been a bit weird lately" I couldn't help but ask. If someone knew what was happening, surely it was Zayn, and I needed to know why Harry was acting like that, because all the suppositions I was coming up with weren't good ones at all.

He sighed, annoyance clear in his action. "Sometimes things aren't as easy as they seem, Sierra" he told me, giving me an unreadable glance before finally walking inside, leaving me alone in the corridor.

All of sudden the bell rang and I widened my eyes, realising that I was on the other side of the building, and so officially late to my last class.

I walked as quickly as I could, but by the time I made it to my art classroom the door was already close, signalling that the class had already started. I took a deep breath and put my hand on the handle, pulling it down with my heart in my throat and opening it gently before sliding inside, my dreams of going in unnoticed shattering when I realised that the teacher was looking at me.

I muttered a quick sorry and walked to my usual desk as quickly and silently as possible, finally breathing in only when I sat down on my chair, closing my eyes as I tried to get over the awkwardness I was feeling.

I glanced to my side instantly when I realised that someone had sat next to me, and I widened my eyes when I recognised Aiden's sandy-blond hair. I kept my gaze on him as he took off his coat and put it on the desk, before leaning back on the chair, his eyes on me.

"Hey Sierra" he said, nonchalance in his voice, as if he hadn't done anything weird by sitting next to me.

"Why are you here?" I asked him quickly, ignoring his greeting, not wanting him to think even for a second that I was okay with him sitting next to me.

He rolled his eyes at the evident defensiveness in my voice and sent a fast glance to the front of the class, making sure our art teacher wasn't paying attention before speaking again. "Well, I was thinking we could be friends, you know? Since now you know the truth and all" he told me, and I had to do all I could not to let my face show how unimpressed I was by his request.

"We will never be friends, Aiden" I said, my voice low despite the harshness of my words. I had no intention of starting a friendship with him, especially after everything that had happened - not even long ago, in fact.

He sighed. "Oh come on, I told you Ella asked me to. What kind of cousin would I have been if I'd said no?" He asked, and it was clear in his voice that he hadn't even understood where the problem was.

"You lied to me, for months" I replied, "and you let her lie to me. I thought she was my best friend! Couldn't you have let me know at some point?" I raised my voice a bit, earning a disappointed glance from my teacher.

"It really isn't that big of a deal, Sierra. People do stupid stuff all the time" he simply replied, and I just shook my head at his words, refusing to keep the useless conversation going.

"I don't want to be your friend" I said quietly, starting to hope that the teacher would step in and tell us to shut up so that I'd have a reason to stop replying to him. "And also tell Ella to stay away from me, because I'm done" I added, wanting to rule out the possibility of him asking me because Ella was still interested in keeping her friendship with me.

He let out a little sarcastic laugh. "As if she'd even care" he replied, his words hurting me a bit for some reason I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I just nodded, taking it as my chance to end the conversation and turning my head to look at the teacher as she spoke, loudly praising a drawing I hadn't managed to see because I'd been distracted by Aiden.

"Which bird did you draw?" He suddenly asked from where he was sitting next to me, and I sent him a side-glance, feeling already annoyed by his behaviour. I had no interest in making conversation, especially with someone that had tried to break my relationship with Harry up since the first day, but I knew that if I hadn't replied he would've kept asking.

"A robin" I said, my reply as short as my interest in that conversation, not even looking at him, not wanting to encourage him. I'd never wanted a class to end as badly as in that moment.

"Oh nice, I drew an eagle" he replied, and I simply nodded again, hoping that that time it would finally be it. I'd thought my first conversation with him was painful, but that new one simply couldn't compare to it. I wondered what my teacher would've said if I'd asked to go to the restroom.

Thankfully in that moment my name was called, successfully silencing Aiden just as he opened his mouth again, and I stood up quickly, taking the folder with my drawing and walking to the front of the class. I handed the drawing to my teacher and I stood there as she praised the sketch and the choice of colour, barely paying attention to what she was saying, my mind quickly drifting to Harry. I wondered what he was doing in that moment. Had he really decided to just randomly skip a school day, or had he done it because he was sick, or maybe too hungover to come? I wondered if I should've gone to check on him later that afternoon. It could've been nice if he was indeed sick, but something told me that wasn't the case, and that he wouldn't have enjoyed it as I would have. I probably should've asked him if I'd done something wrong, because I was tired of not knowing how to act around him. It had only been some days, but it had stressed me out to no end.

"Sierra" someone said all of sudden, and I looked down quickly, discovering that the teacher was trying to get my attention, and that the eyes of everyone in the class were on me.

"Yes?" I replied, blushing slightly, wondering how long I'd been spaced out for, but quickly deciding not to think about it right after, not wanting to give myself a reason to feel more embarrassed than I already was.

"I said, nice work. You should stop trying to draw so realistically and find your own style, though" the teacher said, and I nodded quickly, taking my drawing and rushing back to my desk, quickly sitting down on the chair and looking down, determined not to meet any of the gazes that I could still feel fixated on me.

Thankfully Aiden didn't try to talk to me again for the rest of the class, and before I knew it the bell rang again, signalling the end of the class. I stood up quickly and put on my coat, gathering my stuff together and walking out of the room as quick as possible, not wanting to give him the chance to stop me after class.

The rest of the day went by as dully as it'd started, and even though I'd decided to swallow my pride and send Harry a text message to find out what he was up to, I got no reply at all. I told myself that he'd probably forgotten his phone somewhere, or that it was turned off, not wanting to think about the possibility of him willingly ignoring me. He'd never ignored me before, not even the first times we'd texted, so the simple thought of him doing it now hurt me. Again, I wondered if his behaviour was my fault. After all, he'd been through some messed up things in the time we'd been together, and he'd never ignored me in such a way. It was starting to become clear that, whatever his problem was, it had something to do with me.

With my new knowledge of the situation, I decided to keep myself busy with something else to refrain the urge to call Harry and ask him what was going on, knowing that that would've created more damage than anything else.

I went upstairs in my studio and took a paper sheet, deciding to start to work on creating a style of my own as my art teacher - and Harry - had suggested me, because I knew it wouldn't have been an easy task, and so the earlier I would've started, the better.

I'd been drawing for hours when the doorbell suddenly rang, quickly bursting the bubble I'd created for myself.

I looked up quickly, discovering that everything else in the room was dark and that the only source of illumination was the harsh light on my desk, that I'd directed to the paper sheet in front of me. I sighed and I stood up, walking out of the room without bothering to turn on the main light and walking down the stairs. I hesitantly made my way to my door and I opened it, figuring that nothing too bad could be on the other side, widening my eyes when my stare met Harry's.

All the reasons I'd thought of why he'd skipped his classes shattered into nothing in the second I looked at him. He was wearing a black shirt that didn't seem to be nearly enough to protect him from the cold of February, but he was breathtaking. The green shade of his irises was warmer due to the yellowish light of my entrance, but the look he held in his eyes was cold, his lips pressed together, the fingers of the hand abandoned at his side fidgety. Overall, he looked like he was trying his best to stay there, and not fly the scene.

He walked through the threshold, a serious look in his green irises, and I could do nothing but take some steps back to give him some space. I stared at him, worry in my eyes, as he closed the door behind himself with a slow movement, almost hesitatingly taking some steps forward in the hallway of my house, for some reason finding myself fearing the moment in which he would've spoken. And then he did.

"This, is a mistake" he said, his voice low but loud enough for me to hear it, as if he himself was dreading the words that were leaving his mouth. "You were right."

I shook my head quickly, suddenly being reminded of the words I'd said myself a little over a month before. Had they stung him just like they were stinging me in that moment, like a sudden slap in the face, just as hurtful as they were unexpected? "No I wasn't, I was just-" I started, wanting him to know that I hadn't truly meant them and that they themselves meant nothing, but he interrupted me.

"You were" he told me, his voice unnaturally calm. I stared at him, widening my eyes as I saw his hand reach up for the handle of my front door, as if he wanted to yank it open and disappear into the night, just as quickly as he'd arrived.

"Harry stop, talk to me" I said quickly, determined to solve whatever life had just thrown at us, taking a step forward and inadvertently putting my hand on his arm. "What is going on? We can get through this."

He shook his head. "No, we can't" he replied, the quietness of before not leaving his voice. He paused for a second, staring at me in the eyes, an unreadable look in his. "I don't want us to."

I frowned, the shock coming from his unexpected words anaesthetising the pain their meaning would've no doubt caused. "I don't understand" I admitted letting my hand drop, my voice trembling slightly.

He let out the faintest sigh, taking a step back in the second I let go of his arm. "I don't have my shit together right now, Sierra" he told me, his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. "I'm not saying it to justify my own poor actions and decisions, I'm saying it because it's true." He looked away, and for the first time the distance he'd suddenly put between us felt as so much more than just physical. "I'm not that kind of person, I can't be that kind of person" he added, clear distress in his voice.

"What kind of person?" I asked him gently, sensing that he was upset about whatever he was trying to say and that was why he was reacting like that, but not daring to take a single step closer to him. I wasn't entirely sure I'd ever heard him sound like that before. It was more than him just being vulnerable - or trying to, at least - to the point that I felt even more worried than before. It was clear that the words we both would've spoken in that moment would've determined what would've happened next.

"The kind that relies on someone else to fix their mess" he explained, a quietness in his voice. "I just can't, I'm sorry" he added, his words suddenly a bit more rushed, as if he himself was finding it hard to keep the conversation going.

"What?" I said, my voice rising a little bit, finding myself registering the last sentence he'd said and ignoring the first. What did it mean, he couldn't? Was he really about to give up right in that moment, after everything we'd went through to get to that point?

"You were right" he said again, for some reason his words scaring me a bit more the second time around. "I can't handle a relationship right now, Sierra. I thought I could, but I can't. I know I will end up hurting you if we keep this up and this isn't fair to you nor me."

I gave him a confused look, knowing what was about to happen, but still wanting him to say it out loud to make sure I'd understood him correctly, because there was simply no way he was really leaving me, after everything. It felt wrong. It wasn't supposed to happen, not right there, not in that moment, at least. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm breaking up with you" he said lowly, his words barely a whisper between us, and I felt my heart shatter in my chest and fall to the ground in scattered pieces.

"Don't" I told him quickly taking a step forward, a sudden urgency in my voice. He couldn't leave me in that moment, just like that, it wasn't right. I wanted to convince him to rethink his decision, but I didn't know the words to do that, so the simple word left my lips and lingered in the silence for barely a second, before dissolving into nothing just like my speechless resolution.

He shifted his gaze to the wall behind me as if he couldn't even look into my eyes, his jaw clenched, his hand now gripping the golden handle of the door, clear signs of his own distress, that almost matched mine. "I have to" he said, his words choked. "You deserve better than to be dragged down by my shit, and I deserve better than to only be fine because you're with me, Sierra."

I shook my head, doing my best to gulp down the anger that overcame my senses at his words, knowing that it wouldn't have helped in the slightest. I couldn't understand how he was feeling, but I understood his words, and I knew that, in a way, they made sense. I'd never wanted him to rely on me as well, because it just wasn't right, but I couldn't help but feel betrayed, in some way. Why had he taken us that far, if he knew he couldn't do it? Why had he even told me he loved me? It seemed like some kind of cruel joke to me, with awful timing. "You can't just-" I started, but I quickly choked down the words, not finding them right and switching them up quickly. "You said you loved me."

He stared at me for some seconds, his lips parted, his eyes wide, a pinch of hurt in them, as if he just couldn't believe I'd dared to bring it up in that moment. "I do, that's why I can't let this happen" he breathed, the pained glare not leaving his eyes as he spoke, piercing right through me and almost making me feel guilty. "This is not what I want us to become."

"I..." I tried to reply, but my voice died in my throat when I realised I had nothing to say, the understanding that he'd indeed just won hovering over me like a dark cloud and making my eyes sting. Despite how much I wanted to, I knew I couldn't have forced him to stay if he didn't want to, and that realisation took my breath away, almost suffocating me for some long seconds.

He closed the distance between us with a couple of steps, and I closed my eyes, knowing that if I'd met his gaze I would've broken down, crumbling down on the floor at his feet. "Hey" he said, his voice low as he whispered between us, a shiver running down my spine as his faint perfume pinched my nose. "I suppose this is the moment in which I should give you something of mine, a memento. But I won't do that" he told me, his words making my heart ache in my chest. "Don't hold onto me" he added in a breathy murmur, as if he too was being affected by his own words. "Sierra, it's okay."

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, suddenly realising that I was crying when my gaze met his unfocused one. "No it isn't" I said quietly not to let my voice tremble, reaching up with my hand to dry the tears before he could see them, or so I told myself at least, because I could see in his eyes that he had, even though he wasn't doing anything to stop them.

"But it is" he told me, his voice gentle, his fingers grazing the side of my arm for the shortest second. "Don't call me" he breathed again, before taking a step back and putting his hand on the handle again, this time holding it firmly as he opened the door. He sent me one last glance and then, as quickly as he'd arrived, he got out of my house, closing the door after himself.

I stayed there, completely still in the middle of the hallway, tears still burning in my eyes, paralysed by what had just happened, almost unable to believe the words we'd just shared, a weight heavy on my chest and making it harder to breathe.

When I finally shook off the blow and rushed to the door, opening it and stepping outside into the darkness of the night, he was long gone.

THE END.

Read the next part, it's important. x

Miki

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