‘He jets at scars that never felt a wound’

Harry’s POV

After speaking with Laila I came out of my room and slowly moved towards the sofa. I sat there quite confused about what just happened. I loved to hear her speak, to know her mind, how shy and candid she is. Why didn’t she want to hang out with me? Was I too bold? She seemed so interested in me before, so attracted, almost impelled when we were in the Library. Why did she change her attitude? My usual self towards girls didn’t seem to work on her. For Laila to lower her guard and be herself I need to let myself go as well. It feels so easy to do when I’m around her, but it’s quite terrifying at the same time. When I’m there with her it comes so naturally, reading quietly, speaking about literature, enjoying each other’s company. I just need to follow my heart and everything runs smoothly. The problem seems to appear when I rationalise it.

“Who was that?” Gemma asked as she returned from the kitchen to the sofa and saw me with my iPhone resting on my lips.

“Laila, a classmate,” I said in a low tone, still in a gloomy mood.

“You started college today and you already have a classmate’s number? You move fast, Mister,” she declared.

“How do you know it wasn’t her calling me?” I asked cheekily.

“Because I know you, brother–––she said. And in that case, you would have managed to give her your number and make it look like it was her idea all along.”

“Fine, I admit it. She seemed nice and I asked for her number,” I grumbled.

“And you already called her? That’s odd…” She said, looking quite puzzled.

“What do you mean by ‘odd’?” I asked in a husky tone.

“Well, you just saw her a few hours ago but, for some reason, you felt the urge to call her… Who is she? I want to meet her. She’s sort of my new idol,” she mocked me.

“Gemma, mind your own business,” I cut her off and nervously started texting Louis. Maybe we could talk before our rehearsal. What was all that with Laila anyway? First day in college and it was far too intense.

“You know you want to talk about her, Harry. Come on, little brother–––she said in an affected tone, pulling on my arm. Tell me about Laila. Is she pretty?” She asked and I just needed to get it out of my chest. I couldn’t wait for Louis to arrive. Gemma is my sister, anyway. She always takes my side.

“She is. She’s very pretty–––I said smiling as her features took shape in my mind. I don’t know, we met, we spoke for hours and we sort of bond. It was…”

“Different! ‘Bond’, Harry? Are you listening to yourself?–––she asked, sincerely astonished. I’m positive I’ve never heard you use that word about any other girl before. What is it about her?”

“I don’t know, Gemma. There’s nothing ‘about her,’” I declared, feeling too disarmed.

“It didn’t last long, though. You are already closing up–––she complained. You were being sincere, Harry. What are you afraid of? That I discover you have feelings? You love literature. You must have a soul.” That didn’t sound right. I don’t want to be the emotionally unavailable.

“Fine, fine, Gemma–––I surrendered. There is something about her, but I don’t seem to be able to put my finger on it. But I met her and I almost kissed her. It felt so warm around her…”

“Oh, God, my ears are burning–––she exclaimed while getting up from the sofa, her hands on her head. I’d never believe I would live to hear you say such things.”

“And, with that remark, you pretend for me to be honest with you?” She was so annoying and I felt quite hurt.

“I’m sorry, it was the shock… So, does she fancie you back?” She said in a sympathetic tone, joining me on the sofa again.

“She has to, even though she didn’t want to spend time with me this afternoon…” I mumbled.

“Did she say ‘no’ to you?–––she snapped. Am I in a dream?”

“OK, I’m off, Gemma,” I said feeling very pissed.

“No, Harry… But, Harry!” I heard her say as I walked off to my room. I slammed the door shut.

I played some music on my hi-fi and I went to lay on my bed. I was still mad at Gemma. Why did her attitude affect me so much? Or were her words the reason I felt that upset? I rubbed my eyes and grabbed a book from my beside table trying to get away from it all, but I don’t even remember what I read. A half hour later, Louis entered my room after knocking a couple of times.

“So, mate, you seemed anxious. How was your first day at the uni? Did you meet some hot girls?” He asked as he sat on the end of the bed, patting my foot. I returned the book to my beside table, straightened, and leant my back in the headboard. I was already cheered up.

“Actually, I did. And I did more than just that,” I pointed out.

“Tell me everything,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Laila… Clever, adorable, profound, in love with books–––I enumerated. In one word: Fair. The sort of girl that doesn’t know how much she worths.”

“Seems perfect to me,” he claimed frankly.

“Got her number, called her.”

“Did you call her already?” He said, confused. I glare at him. Where they conspiring against me? “OK, carry on,” he finally said.

“Things were pretty steamy between us as I almost kissed her in the Library. She has the most tempting lips. I definitively want to be around her.”

“But there’s something more…” He said with suspicion. He knows me too well.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked, creating some sort of suspense. He nodded in response. “Well, I cannot lie to you, mate. I met somebody else…”

“Somebody else? Whom, to be precise?” He jumped off the bed as I walked towards the door on my way to the kitchen. It was early in the afternoon but I still needed a beer.

“A teacher–––I said cheekily. Miss Franzen.”

“Oh, Harry. I don’t know why but her name alone already sounds hot.”

“She’s beyond hotness, Louis. Thirty years old, square framed glasses, self confident, very long legs.” Oh, yes, she was special. I took a sip of my beer as I remembered the way her eyes burned into mine when we first met. I couldn’t restrain a board grin, shaking my head from side to side.

“Seems like one of your stories…–––Louis said, patting my shoulder. What about her? Did you speak to her?”

“Not much; we were in the middle of a seminar, but I think I made quite an impression on her–––I explained to him. She couldn’t stop glancing down at me and she acted all jealous towards Laila.” But as I spoke I felt automatically guilty. Laila seemed to be in true discomfort all the length of the lesson. Then an uneasy thought came to mind. Was that the reason she rejected me earlier?

“Is he talking about Laila, Louis?” Gemma interrupted us entering the kitchen.

“No, about Miss Franzen,” he answered obliviously.

“Who?” She snapped.

“Louis!” I protested at the exact same time.

“Hmm, I suppose you didn’t tell her about Miss Franzen, don’t you?” He asked rhetorically, realising about the entire situation.

“It was too good to be true, Harry–––she muttered shoving me aside as she passed me. Well, you better not screw Laila up during your little lust feast with Miss Franzen.”

“Sorry, mate, my fault.”

“I’m going to kill you, Louis,” I growled poking his chest.

–.–.–

Laila’s POV

I arrived to the University feeling quite anxious as I was about to see Harry again. I felt like a giant arse yesterday after speaking with him on the phone. I didn’t even tell Georgiana about the incident. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to her arguments. Why in the world would I say ‘no’ to his proposition, when the only thing I could think about was to be around him? What If my reaction gave him the wrong impression and from now on he becomes a total stranger to me? As I passed through the main entrance I made by best effort to dispel those unpleasant thoughts.

I lazily climbed the stairs as I was early as always. I was decently dressed with some black skinny jeans, ankle boots, grey top and a jacket, but not too dressed up. I didn’t want Harry to think I drastically changed my outfit because of him. I wanted a discreet transition back to my casual dresses. I sat down on a wooden bench near the classroom waiting for my lecture to begin, headphones on, tapping nervously my foot on the floor. Harry wasn’t there yet. As time went by I started to feel even more anxious than before. What if he was cold towards me? What if he didn’t even greet me?

I was almost lost in those thoughts when I suddenly felt a presence beside me on the bench. In a fast sequence I didn’t realise at the time, my headphones were removed from one ear and I felt a warm breath brush my sensitive skin and my messy hair. It could only be him. I shuddered and closed my eyes wide shut as he got nearer.

“Good morrow, Laila,” Harry muttered in the most raspier tone ever, but I could feel he was smiling. An intense shiver ran down my spine and up again. “What are you listening to?” He groaned.

“The 1975…” I mumbled, incapable to move. His fingertips lightly caressed my hair.

“And guess what…?” He asked provocatively.

“You love them too.” I stuttered taking off my headphones as I slowly opened my eyes turning my head towards Harry. When I looked at him it was almost painful. He literally gleamed. His immaculate skin. His impressive eyes blazing with the fire of a thousand suns. His perfect hair. And he was so close to me.

“I do…” He grinned and my cheeks seemed to burn. He leant down parting his lips. It was our moment in the Library repeating all over again. The world seemed to linger around us.

“Who is this, Laila?” I heard the very flustered voice ask from some distance.

“Bernie,” I jumped. I’d absolutely forgotten about her. Harry turned around with a mysterious look on his face. A sensation of withdrawal overcame me as he got up from the bench and walked towards her.

“So, you are the famous Bernie,” he spoke slowly to her. She stared at him in perplexity but regained her sense of reality after a short second. He shook her hand gallantly.

“I am quite famous around here, actually,” she said laughing. She gave me a discreet questioning glance. “And, Mister, you are…?” She carried on.

“Harry Styles,” he declared.

“Hmm. The new lad,” she said not letting his hand go.

“Indeed,” he proudly claimed.

“Tight grip,” Bernie said glancing downwards to their hands with a neutral face. “Excuse my impertinence,” she said, and I knew there was something on her mind. “But you two were just about to…” She smirked as she lifted her face up. How sadistic of her. She wasn’t sorry at all.

“I was about to kiss Laila, yeah,” Harry admitted without giving it too much thought. My heart just skipped a beat. With Bernie’s interruption I had not yet have the chance to process what just happened between us.

“Oh, I see,” she mumbled in evident surprise by his sincerity, dropping his hand like it suddenly burned.

“In fact it’s the second time we got interrupted,” he grinned and slid his hands on his pockets. In frank contradiction to his speech’s boldness, he looked quite innocent in that attitude.

“Oh, well. Then, as they say, next time she all yours,” she spoke with lightness as if I wasn’t even there. Oh, I just could murder her.

“I hope so,” he smiled turning back at me, who was sinking on the bench. I wished I could just disappear in the thin air, with the feeling I was forced to face the entire situation.

–.–.–

Notes

First Harry's POV and Gemma appeared in it!

I invite you to read this amazing fan fiction by @mikkemille:

http://www.harrystylesfanfiction.com/Story/41757/Big-Hot-Mess-A-One-Direction-Fan-fiction/

I love it. It's fun and vibrant.

WWA Tour is on!

Check out my other Fan Fiction here:

Dreaming Of You

Thank you for reading!