Harry fell asleep that night before, with me cuddled up beside him before he could even begin his story about his drug dealing job where he supposedly doesn't handle the drugs.

Unbelievable. I mean, believe it or not, I'm actually quite afraid of him. Anyone involved with drugs frightens me.

Harry entered my bedroom (like he said he would over our texts) and gave me a wave. I waved back and stayed curled up in my mass amount of sheets.

"Niall, can you let me in?"

I nodded and opened the sheets a little. He crawled beside me and held my hand underneath the thick later of duvet covers and sheets.

"I want you to know, that even though my dad has a lot of money behind him, I don't get any of that. And Niall, jobs aren't my best place."

But Harry, you're capable of so much. I write down quickly.

"Thanks, but really I can't. So my job, is to recommend the specific dealers to people in the UK. For every person I send, I get half a thousand pounds. That night at my house we spent togther? That's who was calling me."

Well damn. I wrote, I'm just worried about the whole drug thing in general.

"Hey hey," he cupped my chin in his large hands, looking me in the eyes, "I've taken drug tests and left negative. I'll take them again just to prove to you that I'm safe."

I nodded and he kissed me, moving my notebook aside.

"I think I love you," he whispered, "Even though it's only been a good two months since you sent your first letter."

My hands reach up to tangle themselves in his now longer hair as he kissed my neck.

"I wish you could say I love you back."

My heart ached as Harry and I continued to kiss. It hurt so much that I knew I couldn't say those words back.

Oops.