I'm Alone. Or am I?

When Anastasia is abandoned by her father when he leaves on a "Vacation," Anastasia stars to fall for the curly, dark-haired boy in her class, Harry. But when Anastasia starts to blame herself for her dads absence in her life, does Harry help her or break her heart when its already breaking.

Alternate Universe where the boys aren't famous.


19. The Notebook

We were sitting in my bed.

He was still not wearing a shirt, not that I'm complaining, and his pants were still  firmly buckled around his waist. 

Me on the other hand, well I was still wearing my batman pajama shorts and no shirt, not that Harry was complaining.

Harry accidentally ripped the back of it almost clean off and made me ditch it. 

I still had a bra on though, don't worry.

He had his arm wrapped around me and my head was on his chest. 

Sure this was nice and I felt comfortable and like I was where I belonged, but, I still didn't feel like I was worth anything and that it was my fault that Dad left me alone, all alone, in the house Mom almost beat her Cancer, the day after Mom's funeral. 

That's because it was my fault.

Harry kept saying that he wouldn't break my heart, that he wouldn't let my heart go crashing to the ground, shattering it into a million pieces that I couldn't put back together and that he wouldn't let me feel alone, but no matter how close I was in his warmth, how many times he said he cared for me, I still felt hollow inside, and right now, there was no way for me to feel whole, even with Harry by my side.

Maybe it was because I had nobody, maybe it was something worse, maybe it was my brain anticipating something else I wouldn't be able to handle, maybe it was just me.

I had turned on the T.V and put on The Notebook. 

I was smiling, and crying.

Harry kept wiping away my tears and saying things like:

"I would do that for you," or "That's us," or "We fit perfectly, just like them," or "If you hadn't given me a chance when you did, I would have done that,"

Which of course only made me cry more. 

By the end I was a wreck. 

"I'm going to go clean myself up," I told him and started to get up. 

"Why? You're already beautiful," and he grabbed my wrist stopping me. 

"But I'm a mess Harry," I told him as I blushed.

"And you still look beautiful." 

"Can I at least get a shirt?" I asked turning to face him and giving him puppy-dog eyes.

"Fine," and he let go of my wrist.

I got up and opened my dresser drawer and pulled out a red tank top, pulling it over my head.

I sat back down and Harry put his arms around my waist.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand, it was six o'clock. 

"Do you want pizza?" I asked.

"Sure, I'll go order it," and he got up and went downstairs.

I got up and went to the bathroom. 

I turned on the sink and picked up the wash cloth and wet it, then started wiping my face where I had been crying.

As I shut the water off I turned and looked at the toilet. 

Instinctively, I bent down and purged.

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