Perfect ➵ h.s

She doesn't like him, he doesn't like her.
But somehow in the middle of the media perception of two different people, they find each other.


Harry Styles Real Life


5. 4 | "No I love it, that's why I don't want to eat it."

Songs for this chapter:
- Don't Let Me Be Yours | Zara Larsson
- Problem Child | AC/DC
- Faded | Alan Walker
- Hold Me Down | Halsey


Chapter four.


[Indiana POV]


I feel hot. Too hot. My head's pounding and I feel like throwing up all the remains of yesterday. I open my eyes with the apprehension of being blinded by the sunlight, that I'm sure are streaming through the curtains in my room.

Except, it's not my room.

I immediately open my eyes completely after seeing that I am definitely not in my own bedroom. It doesn't look like a master bedroom, more like a spare room. But why am I in here? If I slept over at some guys house, wouldn't we be in his bed, and not the one in his guest room?

I look down and see myself fully clothed. So I didn't sleep with someone? This just gets weirder by the second. By my waist, is an arm wrapped around me, and though I wish I didn't, I recognise the tattoos on the stranger right away.

I turn my head and look down on a brown mop of hair, sprawled out of the single pillow. His eyes are closed and small, serene snores are leaving his lightly parted, pink lips. He too is still wearing his clothes from yesterday.

Good. That means we didn't do anything.

I try to be smooth and unlatch his arm from me, without him noticing, but I fail as his eyes flutter open and a vibrant green shines through. He groans and buries his head further into the pillow. It's like the mere sight of me being here, made him agitated. Like he thought that whatever happened last night, was a bad dream.

Whatever it is, the feeling's mutual.

"Morning sunshine," I roll my eyes and swat his arm, to get him to move it, and thankfully he does. What even happened last night? The last thing I remember is sitting beside Louis and sending hateful eyes to Harry across the table. How the fuck did I go from that to ending in a bed with Harry, though still fully clothed?

"How's your head?" Harry grumbles from beside me, and I look surprised at him. Last night he basically called me a total whore, and now he's actually acting nice towards me? Now I'm even more worried about what happened last night.

I'm not so worried about things that I might have said, because never in my L.A life, have I ever shared anything deep about myself, of any kind. So worried about me having shared some deep, dark secrets about myself, no. But Harry? From what I've seen and heard, he seems like he's the type to "connect" with the people he hangs with. And that's not me. At all. In case you hadn't already figured that out.

"Besides feeling like someone poured gasoline on it and then set it on fire? Peachy." I roll my eyes and swing my legs over the edge of the bed and rub my temples with pained movements of my fingers.

"Y'know, a simple no would've sufficed." He mutters and sits beside me; looking really awkward. I feel it, too. The awkwardness. I mean, you could cut the tension with a knife in here.

"Yea, but that wouldn't be as fun, would it?" I smirk and shrug, whilst he rolls his eyes and stands up in front of me. His arms are folded in front of him and his expression is tense. He looks really conflicted about something, but he seems to shrug it off as he offers a small smile and opens his mouth to speak.

"You hungry or something?" I'm completely thrown off guard by his sudden sweetness towards me. Something definitely happened last night, and it smells fucking fishy. I raise my eyebrows and send him a grimace; silently telling him of my previous thoughts. 

"I'm not going to poison it, relax." He rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. I haven't actually really seen his hair until now. Yes, I did see him last night in the club, but it was dark and I was drunk, so I didn't really pay that much attention to it. Not like I am now, anyway. 

The sun is hitting it perfectly, and makes the light bounce back; giving it the look of a halo. His sharp features are even more prominent now than what I have ever seen. I mean, the pictures of him, do him no justice. 

Not that I look at pictures of him often. 

"Sure, I'm hungry," I answer and stand up beside him, tugging my dress down in the process, taken that it had gone all the way up to my panties. He eyes my dress with a strange look and then turns to the door and walks out of the room; leaving me to look weirdly after him.

After a minute or so, he returns with a piece of fabric in his hand, and he holds his hand towards me. But now it's my turn to look weirdly at his clothes and scrunch my nose and cross my arms in front of my chest. "It's a t-shirt, not a bloody virus. You can put it on, it seems more comfortable than that dress."

I huff and put a hand on my hip. "First you offer food, and then your clothes? What is wrong with you? Have you popped a vein in your brain or something?" He smiles despite everything, and it just annoys me even further. Seriously, what is up with him?

"No, I didn't. I just wanted to try and be nice to you," he breathes and I roll my eyes.


"Why what? Why would I want to be nice to you?" He grins and I nod and look suspiciously down at the large, black tee that he's still holding out for me to take. "Because I don't see a reason to be mean to each other. If this is the last time we're seeing each other, we might as well part on good terms."

If you ever ask, I will deny that I have said this, but he kind of has a point. Except for the whole 'if this is the last time we're seeing each other' because there is no if. This is the last time we're seeing each other. I will do everything in power to have it that way. 

Hesitantly I reach out for the shirt and pull it towards me. He smiles triumphantly and I mentally curse him out. Without giving him a warning or anything, I pull the zipper on my dress and, and it pools at my feet; leaving me standing in only my panties and bra. 

When I look at Harry, he has his eyes fixed on my body and his eyes are wide. He's clearly surprised. When he keeps staring, I clear my throat and he looks embarrassed up at me and bites his lip. Weirdly enough, it does things to my body to see him like that. I mean, looking at my body that way and biting his lip. It's fucking weird and I don't fucking like it. 

I pull the shirt over my head, and luckily, it reaches just mid-thigh. Harry clears his throat and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "So, uh...- breakfast?"

"Sure," I reply and follow him into his kitchen. When I step into the white-wall room, I feel a little starstruck for the first time. I mean, yea, it's Harry Styles' house, but that didn't really bother me. But the white counters and beautiful view that's displayed in the big window is to die for. 

He opens the fridge and I just awkwardly stand in front of the window and look over the city. "What do you like?" His voice breaks me out of my trance, and I look over my shoulder and to Harry, who's looking me directly in the eyes.

"About everything." I shrug and he nods and pulls out some eggs, juice and bacon, and I immediately backtrack in my statement and stop him. "Just no bacon."

Don't ask me why, but I don't like bacon. I mean, I wish I did, and I once did, but I don't know what happened. One day I just felt nauseous just by thinking about eating that fat-greasy-gross thing called bacon, that can hardly pass as food. Haven't eaten it since. 

"Why? You don't like it?" He asks surprised and puts the bacon back in the fridge. 

I roll my eyes and walk closer to him, and lean on the counter beside him. "No I love it, that's why I don't want to eat it."

"Why don't you like bacon? Had a bad experience with it?" He continues and I clench my jaw. Another thing to know about me is that besides hating bacon, I hate when people ask me too many questions that they have no point in knowing. 

"I don't know why, and no. I don't know." I groan and cross my arms in front of my chest. I send him a warning glance that tells him to stop fucking talking, but clearly, he doesn't understand it, or he just doesn't care, because he opens his mouth to speak again. 

"Is it the taste or something?"

"Why the interrogation? I just don't fucking like it, okay?" I, wouldn't say yell, but definitely, raise my voice and he pulls his lips into his mouth and looks at me with wide eyes. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." He mumbles and returns to his cooking. 

You probably won't believe me when I say this, but I'm usually not so horrible of a person. I mean, I am nice. Sometimes, at least, but it's better than never, right? So, I don't know what it is about him that makes me be so nasty. Okay, so I do know, but that shouldn't be the only reason for it. 

Actually, that should be a reason for me to tell him to fuck off and leave this beautiful house. But, no. No, I'm staying, and why? I have no fucking idea. 

I mean, he's nothing but a reminder of everything's that wrong in my life. He's the root of it, and I hate him for it. So I shouldn't be here, arguing about fucking bacon. I should be on my way out of here and hurry the fuck up to get to Lucy's. Maybe there Tyler will be more than happy, to take my mind off of Harry-fucking-Styles and his obnoxious house. Maybe Calum will be there?

And before you get ahead of yourself; no, Calum is not one of my friends with benefits, or whatever it's called. No, Calum is actually the only person that I enjoy the company of. I know what you're thinking "but what about Lucy and Tyler?", but no. I don't particularly enjoy their company. 

Lucy is okay of a person, but I mainly use her if I need somewhere to crash. And Tyler? I think we've already established what Tyler is good for, haven't we? And there's nothing more to that. Those three, and a couple of others are basically the only people I have something to do with. I mean, besides the people that I wake up to on some days. 

Without noticing, Harry has finished the food and sits politely and waits for me to join him. As soon as I sit down, he sends me a smile, but I ignore it and stuff the egg into my mouth. 

There's an eerie silence in the room, and Harry keeps looking like he wants to say something, but he's still holding back. In the end, I get tired of it and slam the fork into the table, which makes him jump up in surprise. 

"Is there something you want to say?" I ask harshly and he looks at me with his mouth agape, like he's just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

"What? N-no."

"Don't lie, Harry. I can tell you're dying to say something to me, so get on with it." I roll my eyes and put the knife down.  He looks oddly nervous and it's irritating me. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair, before opening his mouth to speak. 

"Who's Amanda?" 

As soon as the words leave his mouth, I can feel the colour drain from my face and my eyes widen. I clench my jaw and curl my hands into fists. How did he hear that name? Was it something I said last night? No, it couldn't be. I never talk about that, even in my drunkest state. Never.

"How...- how did you hear that name?" I whisper and Harry looks uncomfortable. 

"You said it in your sleep." He says back and I feel like all air has been knocked out of my lungs. No. No this can't be happening. I've been so good at separating my emotions from my actions these past two years. Why did that suddenly stop?

I can fee my eyes starting to sting and I breathe heavily, then glaring furiously at the man the who's sitting in front of me, and has no idea or even cares, that he just broke me completely. It all suddenly dawns me, and I feel so incredibly stupid.

The sweetness he showed towards me and the nice gestures. It was all to get me to fess up. And to think that I actually fell for it. See this is exactly why I don't let people in. They get close to you, you start to trust them and then they use your secrets against you.

Okay, Harry hasn't exactly gotten close to me, and I haven't started trusting him. But there's something about him. It's like every time I look at him, into those green eyes, I feel the need to tell him all about me and why I am the way I am. 

But then stuff like this happens. He uses kindness towards me to get to me, and I don't know, I feel...- hurt

"Thanks for letting me stay the night," I mutter and push the chair I'm sitting on, back, and stand up. Harry looks confused up at me but then follows my actions and stands in front of me quickly. 

He tries to grab my arm, but I quickly brush him off and stalk towards his door, though I don't know where that is. "Indiana! Indiana, stop!"

I try to ignore him and his calls, but when I'm completely lost in the maze he calls a house, I give up and turn around, resulting in Harry almost bumping into me. "Where's the door?"

"Why won't you tell me who she is? Is that who you were talking about last night when you left her in Texas?" He breathes and I feel a lump starting to form in my throat. I feel sick. I want to get out this house, where the walls seem to be closing in. I want to get as far away from Harry as possible, and never see him again. I want to cry and for everyone to leave me the fuck alone. 

"Just tell me where the door is," I hiss and look at him with narrowed eyes. He gulps and points a finger in the direction of the door, and in no time, I'm out of it and feel like I can finally breathe. It's a little chilly, and I'm only wearing Harry's shirt, but I manage. 

I'm so lost in my own world, that I don't notice the tears that fall onto my cheeks and the sobs that leave my mouth. Why do I feel like this?

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