I Thought You'd Care
Chapter 10: Confessions
Chapter 10: Confessions
Harry’s POV
There was an uncomfortable silence for the first five minutes in the car. She seemed kind of concerned, like she knew that I was angry, but couldn’t place why. After a while, she finally said, “What’s wrong, Harry?”
I didn’t answer for a moment. “Nothing. I’m great.”
She harrumphed. “For some reason I’m not buying that. Seriously, Harry? Why are you mad at me? I don’t want you to be.”
I sighed. “I just…like you. I like you a lot, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Why would I get hurt?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just paranoid.”
We sat in silence once more, but this was a bit more comfortable. “Tell me something about yourself,” She said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Something that you’ve never told anyone before.” I frowned at that. I would love to tell her something that no one else knew, but I wasn’t sure if I could remember anything. The guys and I tell each other everything. She noticed my expression. “You don’t have to,” she said hastily.
I laughed. “No, no, I want to. I’m just trying to think of something worthwhile.” I thought for a moment more, finally navigating us out of the London traffic. “Okay, well, I hate it when people call me a womanizer. Because it’s so completely untrue that it just…gets under my skin. I can’t objectify girls. I just can’t do it.” I grimaced. “I may have told people that, though…oh, shit, yeah, I have.”
She smiled. “Well, I guess you’d better think of something, Styles.”
I grinned over at her—she could change my mood so quickly. I loved it. “Alright. Well, here’s one. I’m sure you’ve seen that I’m quite smooth with the ladies, right?”
Laughing, she responded. “I may have seen it once or a hundred times.”
“It’s true. But here’s the thing—and nobody really knows this, because I’ve never told anyone about this—but when I really, really like a girl, I’m so awkward. I barely sound normal, and I second guess everything I say. I’ll try to compliment her, but I just can’t form coherent sentences. And I get jealous easily,” I added. Basically, I thought, I’m talking about you here.
“I didn’t expect that,” she said, looking at me. I had some serious butterfly action going on in my stomach. I didn’t know what was going on. I’m Harry Fucking Styles, I don’t get butterflies, girls get butterflies about me. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. She turned so she was looking at the road again. “I suppose it’s my turn. Okay, this is actually quite difficult.” She thought for a moment. “Are you okay if it’s something heavy? Because…I really like talking to you, and I want to get this off my chest because I’ve been dragging it around for ages and you’re the only person I’ve really wanted to talk about it to.”
I knew it was something serious, but I couldn’t help getting tingly about her confiding something like that in me. I swallowed. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Well, I don’t know if Zayn told you this at some point, but I had an older brother who committed suicide. He shot himself,” her voice cracked here. She gulped and continued. “He shot himself and I found him. It’s an awful sight, seeing someone you love like that. Just…so awful.”
My mind was racing. I had known about her older brother, but I hadn’t know about his finding. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Sorry wasn’t enough, but I was grasping at straws, trying to say something. “I can only imagine. Nell, you’re really brave for getting through it, and I just want to say that I’m really glad that you trust me enough to tell me this.” I reached out and put a hand on hers. I couldn’t believe that I actually managed to pull that off: I had been being so awkward talking to her. Smooth, Styles, smooth. I thought.
She turned to look at me, cocking her head. “Thank you for not saying sorry. I’ve heard that so many damn times and I’m sick of it.” Looking back to the window, she continued. “That wasn’t all that I was going to say, though. I was going to tell you about the note that he left on my desk.” She paused for a moment, closing her eyes, and I squeezed her hand slightly, simultaneously giving her strength to continue and reassuring her that everything was okay. “He wrote it, in his own writing. I’ve always been glad about that. It was like a last remembrance of him. It didn’t say much. It apologized a million times, to me, to my little brother, to my mom. He just kept saying sorry over and over, and explaining why he did it. But right at the bottom, after he had signed his name, he wrote something that hit me so much harder than everything else.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek. “It was to me, specifically to me. It said, I love you, Nelly. I’m going to miss being your brother. Don’t bother missing me, though, because even an eternity of nothingness is better than this tortured life I had. You and Clyde were my only bright spots, and I can’t do that to you. I can’t make you be my everything. That’s too much to ask.”
She sat in silence. I finally laced my fingers through hers. “Do you feel better?” I asked. “With it off your chest?”
She smiled at me. “I do, actually, Harry. Thanks. Thank you so much. Now, in a vain attempt to lighten the mood, do you want to hear a joke?”
Harry’s POV
There was an uncomfortable silence for the first five minutes in the car. She seemed kind of concerned, like she knew that I was angry, but couldn’t place why. After a while, she finally said, “What’s wrong, Harry?”
I didn’t answer for a moment. “Nothing. I’m great.”
She harrumphed. “For some reason I’m not buying that. Seriously, Harry? Why are you mad at me? I don’t want you to be.”
I sighed. “I just…like you. I like you a lot, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Why would I get hurt?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just paranoid.”
We sat in silence once more, but this was a bit more comfortable. “Tell me something about yourself,” She said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Something that you’ve never told anyone before.” I frowned at that. I would love to tell her something that no one else knew, but I wasn’t sure if I could remember anything. The guys and I tell each other everything. She noticed my expression. “You don’t have to,” she said hastily.
I laughed. “No, no, I want to. I’m just trying to think of something worthwhile.” I thought for a moment more, finally navigating us out of the London traffic. “Okay, well, I hate it when people call me a womanizer. Because it’s so completely untrue that it just…gets under my skin. I can’t objectify girls. I just can’t do it.” I grimaced. “I may have told people that, though…oh, shit, yeah, I have.”
She smiled. “Well, I guess you’d better think of something, Styles.”
I grinned over at her—she could change my mood so quickly. I loved it. “Alright. Well, here’s one. I’m sure you’ve seen that I’m quite smooth with the ladies, right?”
Laughing, she responded. “I may have seen it once or a hundred times.”
“It’s true. But here’s the thing—and nobody really knows this, because I’ve never told anyone about this—but when I really, really like a girl, I’m so awkward. I barely sound normal, and I second guess everything I say. I’ll try to compliment her, but I just can’t form coherent sentences. And I get jealous easily,” I added. Basically, I thought, I’m talking about you here.
“I didn’t expect that,” she said, looking at me. I had some serious butterfly action going on in my stomach. I didn’t know what was going on. I’m Harry Fucking Styles, I don’t get butterflies, girls get butterflies about me. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. She turned so she was looking at the road again. “I suppose it’s my turn. Okay, this is actually quite difficult.” She thought for a moment. “Are you okay if it’s something heavy? Because…I really like talking to you, and I want to get this off my chest because I’ve been dragging it around for ages and you’re the only person I’ve really wanted to talk about it to.”
I knew it was something serious, but I couldn’t help getting tingly about her confiding something like that in me. I swallowed. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Well, I don’t know if Zayn told you this at some point, but I had an older brother who committed suicide. He shot himself,” her voice cracked here. She gulped and continued. “He shot himself and I found him. It’s an awful sight, seeing someone you love like that. Just…so awful.”
My mind was racing. I had known about her older brother, but I hadn’t know about his finding. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Sorry wasn’t enough, but I was grasping at straws, trying to say something. “I can only imagine. Nell, you’re really brave for getting through it, and I just want to say that I’m really glad that you trust me enough to tell me this.” I reached out and put a hand on hers. I couldn’t believe that I actually managed to pull that off: I had been being so awkward talking to her. Smooth, Styles, smooth. I thought.
She turned to look at me, cocking her head. “Thank you for not saying sorry. I’ve heard that so many damn times and I’m sick of it.” Looking back to the window, she continued. “That wasn’t all that I was going to say, though. I was going to tell you about the note that he left on my desk.” She paused for a moment, closing her eyes, and I squeezed her hand slightly, simultaneously giving her strength to continue and reassuring her that everything was okay. “He wrote it, in his own writing. I’ve always been glad about that. It was like a last remembrance of him. It didn’t say much. It apologized a million times, to me, to my little brother, to my mom. He just kept saying sorry over and over, and explaining why he did it. But right at the bottom, after he had signed his name, he wrote something that hit me so much harder than everything else.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek. “It was to me, specifically to me. It said, I love you, Nelly. I’m going to miss being your brother. Don’t bother missing me, though, because even an eternity of nothingness is better than this tortured life I had. You and Clyde were my only bright spots, and I can’t do that to you. I can’t make you be my everything. That’s too much to ask.”
She sat in silence. I finally laced my fingers through hers. “Do you feel better?” I asked. “With it off your chest?”
She smiled at me. “I do, actually, Harry. Thanks. Thank you so much. Now, in a vain attempt to lighten the mood, do you want to hear a joke?”
8/19/13