...

Waking up in Harry's arms was neither a relief nor a disappointment. Tiredly, I climbed out of his grip and grabbed his phone from the nightstand to check the time to find out it was only half seven, meaning I did not have to go back to my dorm until at least forty minutes later.

Out of curiosity, I devilishly scrolled through Harry's recent notifications and surprisingly found quite the controversial texts, which sprawled my emotions in every direction.

LIAM: Did your guy come over?

LIAM: I need to know when I can come back in the morning without walking in on you with somebody.

LIAM: Please, buddy.

The next text was sent at three am.

LIAM: I'm not so well. I kind of need to talk. I think you know what it's about.

LIAM: I need your help.

LIAM: When can I come back??

The last text was at five am.

LIAM: FYI I spent the night at Lacy's and am not coming back to the dorm in the morning for your sake. You're gonna have to tell me what's going on soon enough. I'm getting sick of covering for you.

After reading the last part I quickly put the phone back on the nightstand. Despite the lack of information I had on Liam, I was already feeling bad for him. Harry had supposedly told him not to return to the dorm while I was there to prevent us from getting caught or interrupted. The reason he had done that was because I had basically threatened him not to tell people about us, which was why I felt bad for Liam.

And also, what the hell was happening with him at three am?

That seemed serious.

A sudden feeling of guilt stroke me when I realised I had just snooped through Harry's phone without him knowing, causing my heart to slightly speed up in my chest. For no reason at all, I turned around to the sleeping body beside me and crawled close to his chest, this time with mine facing his. While carefully wrapping my arms around him under the blanket I managed to wake him straight away. He blinked, slowly opened his eyes and smiled subtly when he observed the face in front of him.

"Hi," he huffed, voice groggy as hell.

"Morning," I said shyly.

Harry adjusted his arms so that they were pulling me closer by the waist. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mm-hm," I hummed. "You?"

"'Course." He buried his nose in my hair, his voice altering into a much quieter and weaker tone as he added, "You were here."

"Double session last night, huh?" I smiled. "That was pretty nice."

"Really nice." Harry's breath fanned my scalp. "You feeling good after that?"

"I don't know. I guess my bum is kind of numb to the pain now."

Harry breathed a chuckle through is nose. "I bet it is."

We were silent for a bit.

"When do you have to leave?"

"About forty minutes."

He leaned back to look me in the eye. "Forty minutes?"

I smiled. "Mm-hm."

He licked his lips, lifting his eyebrows with a hungry look on his face. "Round three?"

My hand crept up to his jaw where I kissed him harshly, my breath soon tickling against his skin as I made my response, "Round three it is."

...

Forty minutes quickly escalated into fifty, which then got prolonged into fifty-five, which led to me finally rushing back to my dorm with my flyer barely done and my hair sticking out in every direction like a fucking hedgehog. Thankfully, nobody seemed to have spotted me on my way back—but once I entered my dorm back on the third floor, Niall screeched in panic. For the first time in my life I had walked in on him (aggressively) jacking off in bed.

It was embarrassing, but we quickly laughed it off.

"You never even told me about staying over at Harry's. I was a little worried."

I was rushing around the room, looking for a particular pair of jeans only to find my list of bullet points slightly crumbled on the floor. Picking it up, I put it on top of the chest of drawers where I surprisingly found my favourite pair of jeans. My shit was everywhere.

"Sorry, I was caught up in it all."

Niall's voice became softer. He said, "You really are caught up in him, aren't you?"

I froze in position just as I was changing my outfit to a clean one, boxers seizing at my knees. "What does that mean?"

"You're caught up in him. Just like I'm caught up in Elise."

I blinked. Did Niall think I had feelings for Harry?

"No I'm not."

"You're not?" He sounded unconvinced.

"He's just my fuck buddy." I shrugged, pulling my underwear all the way up to tuck myself in. "Although, I think he sees me as something more but that doesn't really matter because–"

"He likes you?" Niall snapped, sitting up fully in his bed.

I sighed, pain evident in my gaze. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure."

"How do you know?"

After rushing into the bathroom I replied to him, voice echoing on the tiles. "He wants to cuddle all the time, kisses my cheek outside of foreplay, looks at me with this gaze that I can't explain..." I whipped my toothbrush out while rambling on, "Apparently he doesn't even sleep with other people anymore. He also compliments me without actual reasoning and is very gentle with me—not arrogant at all—as if he wants to be careful because he actually cares for me."

"Right," I heard Niall from his bed. A few seconds went by before his voice burst into a higher pitch. He hissed, "And why exactly is it that you're not completely in love with him?!"

I sighed while applying toothpaste to my brush, running it under the tap. I said, "He's Harry Styles, Niall."

Suddenly, my best friend was standing right in the doorway to the bathroom (with boxers on, he was not still naked, you pervert), watching me rapidly twist my toothbrush around in my mouth. Nonchalantly, he rested his hands on his hips while raising his eyebrows questioningly—judging my every move, even though all I did was to clean my dirty mouth from last night's "leftovers".

"Sure. He's Harry Styles." Niall rolled his eyes. "But he's also all those things you just said."

What had started as hatred towards a human being who was irresponsible and had a cocky attitude had somewhat faded out. It was not about who he was as a person anymore. It was about who I had claimed that he was, how the thought of letting that person in felt more than uncomfortable and about letting myself down for doing something I never would've wanted myself to do from the start.

With my mouth full of foam I attempted putting those thoughts into words in an irritated tone, which all just came out in a strange muffled mumble. I was trying to say something about his feelings not mattering because they did not affect how I felt about letting myself down. Somehow it all made sense in my head—but now that I am rephrasing it, it is all starting to sound messy and mildly offensive.

"I didn't hear a word of what you just said, but I'm guessing it was just bullshit anyway." Niall crossed his arms. "You should not be stringing him along if he has feelings for you."

I spat into the sink before spitting out my words, "I know that! I just...I can't leave him. Not now."

"That's not fair."

"Why do you care anyway?"

Niall sighed deeply. "Because I'm Harry."

I blinked.

What the fuck was this kid on?

"What?" I frowned, wiping off the excess toothpaste from my lips with my wet hand before washing it under the tap. "What do you mean you're Harry?"

It was too early in the morning for me to even contemplate over whether his statement was supposed to be some stupid metaphor or if he was trying to play some sort of game. Therefore I was dragging my hands over my tired face, rubbing my eyes while yawning as I waited for him to explain.

"I'm being taken for granted. I constantly am," he admitted, his face reddening slightly. Once he observed my eyebrows shooting up he clarified, "Not by you—by Elise." He sighed, his voice desperate as he rambled on, "I'm crazy about her and it's crystal clear at this point. She knows it. She's a hundred percent aware—but she doesn't do anything about it. She enjoys it, just like you are enjoying Harry, and it's not fair, because I know how it feels! Let me tell you, it's not a nice feeling."

I blinked (again).

"Elise..." My lips parted as I trailed off while trying to gather my thoughts. "S-She knows?"

"Yes!" he said, pained. "I haven't said anything but I just know it..."

"H-How are you feeling?"

"Not so good—but that's not the point!" He slouched his shoulders. "Don't treat Harry like he's any worse than he is," he said, severely. "There are two options. You either tell him the truth and leave him behind, or you let him in and forget about whatever bullshit mental barriers you've built up in your head."

I was in shock.

And I felt so stupid.

"I'm sorry about Elise."

Niall sighed. "Don't apologise to me."

There seemed to be a missing part of his sentence, and I knew exactly what those words were just by looking into his sad, ocean blue eyes.

Apologise to Harry.

...