I reached for the soap to wash my hands before leaving the restroom, and as I dried my hands, I fell into a momentary daze. I couldn't believe how my trip had turned out so far. London was a beautiful place, she treated me well. But I never imagined to meet someone. That he would sweep me off my feet with a fancy dinner date. Was this a date? Was this a goodbye dinner, I pondered.

I made my way back out to the deck, where we sat at a cute little table on the rooftop of the Trafalgar Hotel. Its such a gorgeous night and the view was spectacular. I'm not at all surprised to find people talking with Harry and snapping a few pictures with him even. He acts like this is nothing for him, because he's used to it, but I'm still trying to balance my feelings on the matter.

Harry was a wonderful friend to me today, driving me around 4 out of 9 places on my list, and then this grand finale. Granted we only kissed and touched in his car, and I was fine with that, better than nothing. Respecting his wishes to keep it casual in public, I definitely didn't want to jeopardize whatever this was.

We were waiting on dessert when Harry got a text, I didn't hear anything just saw him pull out his phone. Come to think of it, I hadn't heard his phone beep or ring all day. As he entertained himself for a few minutes, I took out my glasses and began checking my own tweet feed. I found it a bit shocking that I had 36 new followers, people that I didn't even know. There were no messages, just silent spectators I guess.

The waitress brings our soufflé and I don't hesitate to try it first. As I look closer at my new list of followers, I notice the names have something in common.

"1directiontomy heart, stylescupcakes, hazzalova, malikizzle . . . harryswife?" I whisper in confusion.

"What's that?" Harry lifts his head.

"What? Oh nothing, just reading these tweets. What about you?"

"Niall and them want to go out tonight. . .You haven't met Zayn and Liam have you?"

"No. Will Lou be there?"

"Not sure. I can check."

"Thats alright. I'm just looking forward to a nice hot shower and my bed tonight."

"My bed," Harry smirks and wiggles his brows.

"My HOTEL bed," I clarify.

"No. You should just check out tonight . . . bring your things to my place," he insists.

"Yeah uh huh. I paid for a week, I'm going to sleep in the bed I paid for, Harry."

The sudden transformation leaves me terrified. The brightness in his eyes fades as it is replaced by a chiseled scowl.

"A week? How long . . .when do you leave?" His playful accent turns dry, making it impossible to swallow my dessert.

"You knew I was visiting, Harry," I remain soft.

"What day do you leave, Jude?" Anger begins to form in his eyes, I know why but it shouldn't apply to us. We were a fling-type thing.

"Thursday morning," my throat feels dry and grainy.

"You only have 2 days left?" his eyes widen but then his countenance falls.

Silence lingers over our table. I'm afraid to say anything, for I fear he might get up and leave me here. This is a side to Harry I haven't seen yet, so I don't know how he reacts in bad situations.

"I didn't want to spoil things," I add.

"Yeah . . . I should have asked you. I don't know why I over reacted. . . I should be thanking you, for playing your part so well," his smile is fake. It's the first stab.

The night is officially over. He acts like himself as we walk to the car but I sense all the tension and distance clouding around him. My second stab. I'm relieved to have all my things with me since Harry doesn't mention anything else about going out later. I'm clearly not invited anymore, this was indeed the goodbye dinner.

Harry drives a little past the entrance. It hurts that he isn't even going to escort me up, must be in a rush to get the hell away. I don't understand his silent treatment and I don't deserve it. He gets out of the car to get my bag from the trunk and brings it to me. I'm desperately searching for his eyes but he only looks at me once, so cold.

"Here. I'll call you soon alright," he says with a stiff mouth and walks back to his car.

I suddenly think of pages upon pages of things I want to talk to him about, but he's gone. The bright red lights flash and the next thing I know he's driven out of my life. I want to hold on to his words, that he will call me before I leave, but why should he?

It was a fun time. A great time. A memory to take with me of my grand trip to London. I repeat these things nonchalantly on my way to the room, convincing myself of these truths.

Dropping my things on the mirrored dresser, I look at my reflection and break down. I can't act unaffected when it hurts to know that I'll never hold or kiss Harry again. I want to curse London, the Beatles and stupid boy bands. Though they hold no fault, neither does Harry.

I proceed according to plan. I take a hot shower, finally wear my satin slip to bed, and do a little blogging before I turn off the lights. Once engulfed in the darkness of my room, my mind runs to Harry. It runs to that moment just before he pleasured me in unfathomable ways. It runs to the moments when he's holding me as we fall asleep.

I turn over. Its already 2am. Harry is out there getting drunk and having a good time with his friends and probably meeting some girl who DOES live here. I distract myself by thinking of the red tour bus I'll be riding tomorrow. Surely that will return a glimmer of happiness.

---

My body feels heavy, I know that I am dreaming but there are noises that seem a little too real. Its confusing. I hear a faint beeping sound followed by light pounding and clumsy steps. It sounds like its coming closer. Is this a lucid dream? I smell something familiar, something that instantly soothes my senses, causing my lips to curl. I hear two clonks and a muffled clash on the carpet floor.

"Shit," a voice whispers.