GRIFFIN E. WALKER
April, 2015

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I think I like him.

Coming to accept such a conclusion took a lot of my time and effort. It was something that I felt important to figure out because I went from wanting to do nothing with him to suddenly realising he was a part of my everyday life.

Harry Styles was attractive. He had a smile that ladies died for, eyes that could make you do whatever it is he wanted you to do. He had a nice body and great style. He was the kind of boy you always see around and feel as though he's untouchable because he is so pleasing on the eye. This was something that I let myself be okay with a while back. I think it could've been the day we spent at the library, both of us sitting at a table but opposite to each other. He was focused on his laptop as he read with earphones in and his music so loud, I could hear it if I listened close enough. Through stolen glances and burning cheeks, it came to me how good-looking he actually was.

However, as the days and weeks gone by, it dawned on me that what I felt for him was way more than attraction. I liked him more than the thought of having him as a one-night stand. That alone was enough to make me want to push everything under the rug and never touch it again. But of course, when you know someone like Katherine Sherlock, things can never remain hidden. Precisely why the day she decided to hang Harry's dirty laundry followed shortly by mine, I felt so confused by my feelings. It brought everything out from the little hole that I kept pressed down and I felt a lot.

That all happened in February. It was now April. Understanding my feelings should've been easier. To work on that, I had to ask myself questions regarding him and see where they led me. It was hard. I had to figure out what made him so special but it wasn't just one thing. It was a combination of a lot of different things. He knew me. He paid immense amount of attention to me and remembered things he'd been told, even if it happened only once. He was curious. I'd often catch him observing me as though he tried to soak up as much information about me as he could. When we hung out, he made me feel like I had all of his attention and nothing else mattered to him. His openness, the genuine interest and effort he showed was refreshing and so nice to linger in, that slowly but surely, every part of me was beginning to grow closer and closer to him, engulfing him in my emotional attachment.

That terrified me.

Harry Styles was only ever meant to my best friend's boyfriend. Harry Styles was only ever meant to be someone who I'd remember as the boy I picked on and hated for my best friend. Harry Styles was only ever meant to be my past and never my future.

I saw what we could've been. I saw us together. I saw us at graduation, taking photos together. I saw us lying in bed. I saw us shopping together. I saw us living together. I saw us fighting over dirty dishes. I saw us going on dinner dates. I saw us attending art exhibitions. I saw us do what we already do and more but forever.

That terrified me.

I was only twenty. I didn't know who I was. I didn't know what I had to offer. I didn't know if that was enough. I didn't know if I was truly wanted. I didn't know if taking things further would be smart or if it would be stupid.

Harry was still in a relationship. To make matters worse, he was in a relationship with my best friend. Potential ex-best friend. It didn't lighten the situation. It made me question things instead. Was she a potential ex-friend because of the boyfriend or was she an ex because of the way things unravelled between us? Realistically, it should've been the latter. It was the latter. She hurt me and I couldn't ignore that. However, to a certain extent, it had to do with Harry as well. I couldn't not acknowledge that factor because it was the elephant in the room.

Everything seemed to come back down to him. He was here, there and everywhere. I haven't had a crush on anyone in what felt like forever and now, here was this boy I've known for three years out of which I've spent two and a half pretending like he did not exist. He managed to occupy my mind and my time, make me question my feelings and dare me to act on them.

Did I really like him or did I like the idea of him?

Did I like him because I couldn't have him?

Noting that I was already emotionally attached to him eliminated those questions. It explained that I couldn't have only liked the idea of him because for me to grow emotionally attached, he had to show me who he was and he had to let me in. He had to make me feel comfortable and safe. He had to make me feel like he wanted me in his life. Perhaps it happened without his knowledge or he had done all of this intentionally but it led me to see his genuine side, the one that I never knew was there. That's what got me hooked.

It also answered my second question. I didn't like him because I couldn't have him. I actually hated that thought. It made me feel like the world was working against me because the moment it felt like someone could mean so much to me, I couldn't have them.

It didn't make sense. This wasn't supposed to be so hard, was it? If I liked someone, I should've been able to tell them and if they happened to feel the same way then it was meant to work, right?

In an ideal world, maybe. In this one? No.

Harry was right in the middle of the bridge when it came to me and Nadine. She was at one end and I was at the other. He had two ropes in his hand and he had to decide which one to let go and which one to walk towards. He claimed he loved Nadine and he claimed he had feelings for me. In black and white, it was obvious that he would've let go of the one that led him to me. But the way our relationship was built and continued to progress was not as simple as that. If he let go of one of the ropes, he knew he'd lose one of us for good.

Selfishly, I wanted him to let go of his past, someone he had a good run with but clearly, their time has passed. I wanted to see what would happen if he held onto my rope, if he truly gave in to his feelings and gave the idea of us a go. It was foolish of me to imagine, to give myself so much false hope in order to sleep better at night but ultimately, until he made the final choice, it was a fifty-fifty possibility. As long as I had that, not much could stir me away from holding onto whatever I could.

That terrified me.

"All that thinking makes me wonder whose murder you're planning," Harry voice came as nothing but a whisper, a light chuckle as my eyes travelled over to his face. Finding a comfortable position on the couch with my legs stretched out and over his lap, his on the extended part of the furniture, my attention was definitely not on the movie.

I was a show person. I found it hard to get into characters I'd only ever see that one time on my screen. Again, just further proof that for me to be able to care for someone properly and truly let them in, they have to be persistent—they have to keep popping up. Watching a show, you are forced to live with those characters, understand them more and in depth through their journey spread across several seasons. A movie is only two hours long. Which leads me to another point, that being my lack of attention span regarding certain things. An episode of a show is never longer than fifty minutes, forty-five if you take out the intro and outro. Compared to hours, it certainly is more appealing to someone like me.

"Hint: they are in this room."

Harry gasped as he realised there was only the two of us in the apartment. Whilst planning a murder did not occupy my mind, the statement of mine was half-true. My thinking revolved completely around him and his inability to sort his emotions into separate boxes to figure out what he truly wants. Confrontation was awkward and required tremendous effort, not to mention the immense amount of guilt keeping me in a chokehold whenever my mind wandered elsewhere, Nadine's name haunting me like a nightmare that makes you jolt up in bed, sweat coating your skin thickly from the tricks its playing on your subconscious.

"Would you like to share it with the group?" he offered as he tried to humour the situation, thinking it would take off the weight that oh so clearly pushed me into complete silence. My response was a long inhale and exhale as my eyes remained focused on nothing in particular. Taking up on his proposition would've been smarter than keeping the thoughts to myself. But it begged the question—would it change anything between us? If I were to expose my feelings... would it do me more good than bad?

"That day... after the cinema. Once I left?" his eyes were already fixated on me when I turned my head upwards, speaking to him directly. He seemed interested, simply eager to hear me finish. "You spoke to Nadine, didn't you?"

"Yes. Why?"

"What did she say?" he closed his mouth instantly. My question hung in the air. His eyes remained on me. At first, I did not wish to know. For some odd reason, I imagined Harry would share it with me the next time we'd see each other. It never happened. Since he didn't pull away physically nor emotionally after that day, I assumed it wasn't anything serious. They could've had another fight, right? But as my curiosity got the best of me and I dared to wonder about it out loud, he seemed a little taken back. Almost like he didn't want to disclose the information. "Because she wasn't pleased when she saw you hugging me. I can't imagine she begged you to end the break and have things go back to normal."

"She didn't," he reassured me although I sensed a slight attitude in the way his lips formed those words. Soon enough, he realised the way he spoke and the fact that it came to my attention. Harry glanced away, rolling his lips in his mouth before he licked. "Look... things aren't good between us two. I'm not sure that they ever will be. Yes, we promised to work things out before Easter but she has other priorities and I have to respect that."

"So, you'd rather suffer not knowing what will happen?" I asked him as I sat up properly. My eyebrows furrowed and voice flat yet sharp, he was now the one to give me a knowing look. I sighed. "I just mean that you can't stay in this half-assed relationship whilst the world continues to move on."

"What do you suggest I do? Hm?" he questioned passive aggressively. Avoiding an argument was not in the pack of cards set to the side. The more we picked up, the worse this was going to get. "Shall I make my way over to her family home, barge right in and break up with her? Add some more pain to what she is already feeling?"

"Don't fucking attack me for something you should've already done!" the comment slipped without much overthinking. Up until that moment, it didn't bother me that they were on a break. Now, it did. "Harry, I understand that you are in a difficult situation—,"

"Do you?"

"—but you're going to have to make some pretty tough decisions. You may be aware of that and I'm sorry if this is making it worse but things are going to change soon."

"What are you saying?" he looked at me expectantly. Did he want me to confess my feelings? There were a lot of them. It meant that we'd sit here for hours because once they'd be out in the open, he'd definitely counteract it which would prolong the conversation. "Tell me, Griffin. If you have to say something, then do it."

"I have feelings for you, okay?" the words spurred out of my mouth like they burnt my tongue. It felt like the words wouldn't stay down, stomaching it would've caused me more harm. It left a strange taste in my mouth, lingered all throughout as my heart panted in my chest, ready to break through it and give in. The statement formed into a question was sharp and short, it silenced him to the point where he pressed his lips tightly together. "There are things I don't understand and I can't make sense of them because you're still taken. Every time I think about it... every time I try to let myself understand what it is that roars inside my chest when you're around, there comes the guilt in deep layers. It keeps a hold so tight on me that I have to swallow my feelings back down. I have to keep pushing them away because the thought of you being someone else's, my best friend's boyfriend, it—it crushes my soul. It makes me feel like the worst human being for feeling the way I do because I shouldn't be having these thoughts. It goes against everything I believe in."

"Griff..." he trailed off, his voice turning into nothing but air. That certainly wasn't the reaction one would hope to receive after admitting something like this. It genuinely felt like a slap in the face as he dared to call me by a nickname that not many does. Responding in a chuckle, showing just how unbelievable it all felt, I stood up, pushing my fingers through my hair. "Griffin. Listen."

"I am listening," I snapped at him, intentionally. Something bubbled up in my chest and it exploded through my voice. It made him sit farther back on the couch and look away for a second, not scared of the way I spoke but more so uncomfortable by it as he didn't see it coming.

"You know that I have feelings for you and hearing you admit to yours is relieving. Saying that, we promised to work things through with Nadine because it's important to the both of us, right?" he asked me, kind of feeling like he was persuading me to agree. Having time to rethink this, to me, it was obvious that my part in that agreement would most likely remain unfulfilled. Harry hoped he would get some kind of answer from me though when he realised it wasn't coming, he continued. "Our situation is not ideal. When you say there are things you feel you can't understand, I know exactly what you mean because I feel the same. I feel restricted when it comes to the things I can and cannot do with you—that is my fault. Entirely mine. You are right when you say I should've already broken up with Nadine but... it's... it's not as easy as it may sound," he exhaled after he shared some of his thoughts as honestly as he could. Understanding where he came from the way he understood me was crucial in our reality.

Seeing as there was nothing to lose, I said, "I hate that all I can think about is you. That all I want to do is hold your hand or... or just kiss you when I see you. I hate that you feel so close to me when you are actually miles away. I hate that you are taken and I hate that it's Nadine. I hate that I'm hurting her, even if she has no knowledge of my feelings for you. I hate that in theory, I'm the 'other woman'. I hate that her suspicions are becoming reality. I hate that I feel like I'm taking you away from her," I vented my feelings, repeating the same phrase to try and get my frustration out. Whether it worked or not was a mystery to me but one that did not bother me. As long as it was off of my chest, it didn't matter.

"I'm sorry you feel this way," he spoke gently. I turned around and wiped my eyes to clear my vision again. Taking a deep breath, my lips wetted and chest feeling slightly lighter, I could face him again. The next time he said anything again, the hurt reflected not only in his voice but in his eyes. He looked as though it pained him to be there and go through this. "I'm sorry that I can't give you what you want."

"Fuck," the word was barely there as my eyes screwed shut, head turning away before I felt his arms wrap around me in a hug. At first, I couldn't hug him back because I felt embarrassed and weak. It was ridiculous how easily he managed to make me feel so vulnerable. The fact that he admitted to not being able to give me what I want, was all the confirmation I needed. Him and I were never going to have the chance to give us a go.

I didn't cry. Not until my arms were around him and he found that to be the green light to tighten his hold on me. It wasn't anything soul wrenching, only silent tears that his shirt soaked up eventually. It also didn't last for too long since the reaction was driven mostly by my frustration. When Harry pushed me back to face me, he placed my glasses on top of my head and wiped the tears away from my cheeks. Chuckling and sniffling in the process, I saw him crack a small smile before he slid the glasses back on my nose.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I took it off to clean the lenses from the salty droplets. Once it looked better, I put it back on and sighed. "That's very fucking embarrassing. I can't believe I cried in front of you."

"Right—forgot you like to pretend to be a robot," he joked and even though it was not funny, it still made me giggle. Perhaps that was his intention, considering that he, himself, grinned. "Now, do you still want to know what happened between me and her the day she came back for more of her stuff?"

I shrugged as we sat back down. I blew my nose.

"Is it worth me knowing?"

"Hm," he responded. "I think so."

"Alright."

"Well... after you left, it took me some confidence building to face her. I felt... guilty going up there but I did it. She accused us of something happening again and it bothered me so I wanted to tell her that nothing was going on," he explained. In a way, I had to disagree. Nadine had the right to feel like something was going on because even though we didn't physically do anything, there were emotions involved. And what we did feel for one another... well, that definitely could be classified as emotional cheating.

Nevertheless, I let him continue.

"When I said that you only needed to be comforted because you opened up about something, she almost laughed and then remained quiet. It pissed me off," he admitted. Harry defended me a lot which wasn't something he had to do. He made that choice. Regardless, it felt good to know he was on my side—until it came to me that he defended me against Nadine. Then it just made me feel guilty as hell. "I told her that I understood how difficult her situation was but you and I are there for her if she ever needed anyone. Of course, I instantly regretted that and felt like a dickhead. I said some other random shit—honestly, I rambled on because I was really nervous. I didn't know what to say so anything that came to mind, she got. Eventually, I got the 'shut the fuck up, please' comment and she passed by me and left."

"I'm sorry," I said. I was. Before I knew him, I wouldn't have been but now, I was. He clearly loved Nadine and with time, it became clear that he wasn't always at fault. Knowing only one side of their argument, that being my best friend's, meant that everything I thought was biased.

Then, as those two words lingered in the air, they began to feel heavier. I didn't only apologise for the fact that Nadine and Harry were not in a good place. I apologised because to some extent, it was my fault. Had I not been around, Harry wouldn't have been able to get to know me then end up catching feelings for me. I was certain that things would've been fine with the two of them if it wasn't for me. And the thought of that continued to make me feel guilty.

Guilty.

Guilty.