Lana's POV

"Harry?"

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

What is happening right now?

Not a dream. It wasn't a dream.

Harry? Standing in front of me?

Shirtless.

He looks even better now than he did before.

No, don't think that.

Look at those eyes. Those are the exact same. They're so beautiful.

No! Shut up! You hate him!

Except I love him.

No, no I don't. I can't. That's not allowed.

This is the boy that left me.

Broke my heart.

Vanished from my life.

But obviously he's back, so just go over there and hug him.

Don't hug him! Slap him across the face!

Scream at him. Tell him how much it hurt.

Tell him how miserable I've been without him.

Show him that he made the biggest mistake of his life.

Or just go over there, wrap your arms around him and tell him how much you've missed him.

How long have I been staring at him?

That adorable smirk I fell in love with two and a half years ago creeps onto his face, despite his obvious efforts to keep it from appearing.

"Are you okay?"

Am I okay? Am I okay? Of course I'm not okay! I haven't seen you in two years and now you just show up out of the blue and ask if I'm okay? I'm so fucking happy to see your beautiful face I can't even put it into words. But I also want to smack the living shit out of you. How dare you break my heart and disappear and come in here and ask if I'm okay. Who would be okay? Are you okay? Cuz I sure as hell am not okay.

Yup, didn't say any of that out loud. Just staring. Like a freak.

Worry makes the next appearance on his face. "Seriously, are you okay?" He starts walking towards me. "You look like you're about to pass out."

His sudden movement spooks me and I take a few of my own steps backwards, trampling the broken pieces of glass from the mug I dropped earlier.

"Ouch," I hiss, wincing as one of the pieces gets lodged in my foot. I reach the counter behind me and lean on it, lifting my foot a little so there's no pressure on it, but my eyes never leave his. He looks hurt by the fact that I backed away from him.

Good.

"Geez, Lan, what'd you do that for?" Niall says, breaking the awkward silence as he stands to clean up the shards of glasses littered across the kitchen tile. I keep my eyes locked on Harry's. I don't want to be staring at him, but I can't look away. He's here. He's actually here. In London. Standing right in front of me. So why can't I speak? I've rehearsed this moment over and over again in my head, imagining me screaming at him for leaving me and him begging for forgiveness until I finally wrap my arms around him and take him back. That's how it goes in the movies, right?

Well why don't I feel like that's what's about to happen here?

"Lan, your foot!" El says, walking over to me carefully so she doesn't cut herself as well. She leans down and I wince again as she attempts to remove the piece of glass from my foot.

"El, stop," I say, pulling my foot away and finally looking away from Harry's eyes. There's a little puddle of blood on the floor under my foot. It actually really hurts. I watch as Harry bends down to help the boys clean up my mess in silence. The muscles in his arms and back are even more defined than they used to be, if that's possible. Why does he have to be so freaking good looking? It doesn't make my life any easier! El continues to attempt to pull the glass out of my flesh, but it hurts like hell. "You should never become a doctor," I tell her, pulling her hair so she backs away from my wound.

"Ow, ow, ow! Okay" She stands and puts my arm around her shoulder, helping me hop to the bathroom.

"Don't get blood everywhere!" Louis calls, following us with a towel as the blood continues to ooze out of my foot. am I going to need stitches? I can't go to the hospital, I hate hospitals. When we get to the bathroom I hop up on the counter of the vanity and put my foot up over the sink to get a good look at it. The blood is fine, I can handle blood. But the cut is pretty large and it makes my stomach turn. Niall comes in and instantly backs out again.

"Louis, I think you should handle this one," he says, pointing through the door with his thumb.

"You are such a baby, Niall." Louis comes in and I watch as his face instantly pales. "Nope, can't do it," he says, backing out.

"Well, Eleanor isn't playing doctor anymore. She's terrible at it."

"Let me look at it."

I look up to see Harry standing a few feet away from the doorway, watching my face carefully for a reaction. Do I really want him touching me? I don't know what that will do to me.

"No," I say quietly, looking back down at the cut. I know I'm not going to be able to do this myself, but I really don't want Harry that close to me.

"Lana, that needs to come out and no one else can do it. Harry's good with this stuff, remember?" El whispers to me, low enough that only I could hear it. "I know you're freaked out, but just let him help. Then we can go back to our place." I hesitate before nodding my head slowly, telling her it's okay if he comes in. "Okay. I would stay in here, but I'm about to pass out from that," she says, pointing at my foot. The sink is now covered as well. This is gross, I don't blame them. She gestures for Harry to come in the bathroom while I keep my eyes glued on the floor. He stops for a second in the doorway before standing in front of me.

"Hi," he says quietly. I can feel his gaze on me. For some reason I decide to look up and meet his eyes.

"Hi," I whisper, getting lost in them almost instantly. We stare at each other for about thirty seconds before he takes another step closer and looks down at my foot. Can I just say that he is still shirtless.

"You're still clumsy, aren't you," he says, chuckling nervously. I wonder if his heart is beating as hard as mine is .

Harry's POV

I swear she can probably hear my heart beating right now. It's about to fly out of my chest. I haven't been this close to her in two years. I'm so damn nervous, I don't know if I'll be able to do this without my hand shaking.

She doesn't respond to my comment. I look at her face again and she's just staring at me. She looks...scared maybe? Or like she wants to cry? Maybe both. There is nothing more I want to do than wrap my arms around her and kiss her and tell her everything's going to be fine and that I'm here and I'm never leaving her side again. Not ever.

But I can't do that. I can see that she isn't ready for that.

"Your hair is longer," I say, staring at her for a few more seconds before looking down at her foot again. She really isn't going to speak? I guess that's not surprising. As I'm about to attempt removing the glass she finally speaks, but it's so soft I almost don't hear her.

"So is yours."

My head snaps up when I hear her voice. She looks into my eyes for a few seconds before looking down at my chest.

"Your tattoo is a little faded."

Two sentences? I'm impressed. I can't help the wide grin that appears on my face. "They tend to do that, love."

Her eyes snap up to mine when I use the pet name. I can tell she hasn't heard it in a while and that it brings up a lot for her. It does for me too. It's been two years since I've said it. Her eyes dance between mine, looking back and forth the way she used to when she was trying to read what I was feeling. Then she looks down again, this time fidgeting with her hands.

"Does it hurt?"

"What?"

"Your foot." I can't help but smirk; did she really forget?

"Oh, that. It's not bad."

I bend over and examine it closer, and I swear I can hear her breathing hitch. Just being near her like this is igniting a warmth in me that I haven't felt in so long. I turn the tap on and can't help but frown when she flinches at my touch.

"I need to get the blood off so I can see the glass," I tell her. She nods and I put my hand on her foot again, gently placing it under the water. She inhales sharply and I close my eyes. Even this makes me feel bad. I don't want her to hurt, not ever.

And yet I've probably caused her more pain than anyone ever has before.

The piece of glass isn't that big, but it is bleeding pretty good. I open the cupboard beside the mirror to look for a pair of tweezers to pull it out with.

"This might hurt a little," I inform her, physically restraining myself from reaching out to touch her, comfort her in some way. I can see her look the opposite way in the mirror as I get closer to the opening. She whimpers a little when the tweezers connect with the glass and I slowly pull it out of her skin. "Lou, do you have any hydrogen peroxide?"

"I think so. If I do it's on the top shelf there somewhere."

"Lana, put it under the tap again." She looks back down and slowly moves her foot under the stream of water. I find the bottle of disinfectant and put a little bit on a paper towel. "Here, put this on it."

"It'll hurt," she whispers, not looking at me or taking the cloth I'm holding out to her.

"Lana, I know you don't want to go to the hospital so I'm not making you, but you need to clean it before we bandage it."

She takes the paper towel out of my hand without another word, still not making eye contact. She presses it against the cut and she bites her lip against the pain. After a few seconds she takes it off and throws it in the trash can. Niall comes in and hands me a first aid kit. When I'm done wrapping it I stay where I am, looking at her face again.

"All done."

She looks up at me without a word. I look all over her face, taking in every single detail. She looks a little older, but other than that she hasn't changed at all. I love it. She's still sitting on the vanity with me sort of between her legs. Normally if we were this close, she would reach up and push the hair that's in my eyes right now back and away from my face. I loved it when she did that. For now, though, I'll be doing that on my own. She watches the motion, following my hand as it brushes through the still damp ringlets and falls back down to my side.

"Lana," I whisper, reaching out to her. I hesitate a little, then decide to take my chances. I put my hand on hers, which is resting on her thigh that's hanging off the counter. Her eyes close at the contact and I see a tear start to roll down her cheek. I reach up and brush it away, but she pushes my hand back, stepping off the counter and ending the contact my other hand was making as well.

"I can't," she whispers, limping around me and out of the bathroom. El puts her arm around her as I follow them out of the bathroom and to the front door.

"Lana please, wait," I beg, watching as she opens the door. She turns her head to look at me, tears filling her eyes.

"I've waited for two years, Harry. Now it's your turn."

The girls leave and close the door behind them. I just stand there. I jump a little when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"She's going to need some time, Harry."

"I know, Lou. That doesn't make it any easier."

"It's hard for both of you. She just feels blind-sided, that's all. She wasn't expecting to see you."

"Does she hate me?" I whisper, turning to face him. There's so much pity on his face, and Niall's. I hate that.

"I don't think she could hate you even if she wanted to."

"She looks amazing," I say, imagining perfectly the way she just looked. She was obviously just out of the shower; her hair was still kind of wet and she barely had any make up on. But she looked flawless. Even more beautiful than I remember.

I will do anything and everything to get her to forgive me. No matter what, I will get her back. I don't care what I have to do.

She means everything to me, and I will not lose her again.

Notes

so i kinda wanted to make the mood of this one a little lighter, i feel like its been kinda depressing, so i hot the beginning part made you laugh :) internal battles, we all have'em.
also i know i spent a lot of time on the stupid cut, but i just wanted to kind of give you guys a feel for how Lana and Harry are acting around each other for the first time they see each other again.

so i hope you guys like it :) im going to be cramming like crazy, so if you want the next chapter, then get the votes and rates up to at least 10 each! that's the dealio :)

thanks for reading :)
xx