Lana's POV

It's been at least five minutes and neither of us have said anything. We're both just awkwardly sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Harry is leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, fidgeting with his rings. I'm sitting with my legs crossed and my body kind of angled towards him, just staring at the wall. Isn't he going to say anything? Or is that my job?

He solves that problem by finally being the one to speak.

"Just so you know, I really thought you weren't here. I wouldn't ambush you like that."

I look over to him for the first time since we sat down. He's still staring at his hands. He looks nervous. I realize it's been a while since he spoke when he twists his head to the side, looking in my direction but not directly at me. Probably seeing if I'm still here because I've been so quiet. Maybe I should say something.

"It's okay."

Wow, impressive Lana. Two of the simplest words in the English Language. Way to dig deep.

"If you want I can go..." he says reluctantly, looking up at the wall opposite us. Hearing his voice in real life is so....strange for me. I've dreamt about it almost every single night for two years, but now that I can actually hear him talk it's so surreal. He has one of those voices that just puts you at ease, you know? But it's also incredibly sexy. Before Harry I didn't know a voice could be. The real version is ten times better than the one my brain has been replaying for me.

Once again, I've been silent for far too long because he sighs and stands up, turning to walk towards the door.

"No, Harry, wait." He turns back around and looks at me. "Sorry, I'm acting so weird."

He stays standing, but he smiles at me. "It's alright. You weren't expecting to see me."

"I umm....I think...I want you to stay," I say quietly, looking down at my hands. After a few seconds he slowly takes up his former position on the couch. He's probably waiting for me to start the conversation, but this is the most awkward I've ever felt in my entire life. When do I ever get uncomfortable in social situations? Not that often.

"Lana, are you okay?"

There he goes again, asking me if I'm okay. I hate that. Why in the hell would I be okay right now? I don't get why people even need to ask me that.

"We don't have to talk if you aren't ready," he says, a hint of disappointment obvious in his voice.

"Would you stop doing that?" I ask harshly, slapping my hands on my legs and looking at him. He looks surprised.

"Stop doing what?"

"Being so damn nice!" I exclaim, raising my voice a little louder than normal.

"What?" His eyes are a little wide and I can see that he doesn't understand why I'm acting like this.

"It makes it really hard for me to be angry with you when you keep asking if I'm okay and being so...like...careful about my feelings." I stand in frustration and start pacing on the other side of the couch, flailing my arms as I elaborate on my point. "I've spend the last two years trying to hate you for what you did to me, and it didn't work very well. If you were some asshole gang member now that would be better. If you had completely changed and acted like a complete dick, that would make my life so much easier! I just need to hate you and be mad for what you did, but you keep acting just like you used to. So caring and considerate. It's so hard to be angry when you're being so...so...you!"

With that, I stop pacing and look at him. He looks so surprised by my sudden outburst. That's the most I've said to him since he got here. No doubt he wasn't expecting that.

"I'm...sorry?" he says carefully, looking uneasy.

"No! Don't be sorry. That doesn't help anything."

"Lana, I don't know what you want from me."

"I want you to be mean! I want you to show me that you've changed, that you're not the same person that left me two years ago. It would make it a hell of a lot easier not to love you if you were different."

"I'm not going to be mean to you, Lan. I am the same person that left-" he suddenly stops short and stands up, turning to face me. He points weakly at me, eyes boring into mine in a way that keeps me from being able to look away. "You still love me?"

Shit. I did not mean to say that. I want to look at the floor so I can lie and say I didn't mean it, but the intensity of his gaze holds my own. I can't look away, so I can't lie. Instead I just stand there, staring at him. His arm falls to his side and his look softens.

"I....erm.....I didn't mean to say that," I saw quickly, finally able to tear my eyes away from his. It's not exactly a denial, but hopefully he doesn't linger on that point.

"Did you honestly expect that I would change that much?"

"I hoped you would."

"Why?" he asks, slowly stepping around the couch and leaning against the back of it slightly to my right. "Would that honestly make it easier right now?"

Yes, yes it would. It would make it a lot easier to scream and yell at him for leaving me, to slap him across the face and say he doesn't deserve to be in my life after what he did. I want to be able to hate him for breaking my heart.

But I just can't. Not when there's so much love in those green eyes of his.

I don't say any of that to him, I just stand there and return his stare. When he realizes I'm not going to explain he tries to prompt me to speak again.

"Do you want to know why I left?"

"Does it matter anymore?"

"No, but if you want an explanation then-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whisper, cutting him off. His eyes fill with sadness at my question and I can feel a lump rising in my throat. I can't cry right now, I won't.

"I couldn't."

"So you thought leaving without a word would be better? You acted so weird after the parade, but I just shook it off. Then I realized you were gone and it all makes sense. The questions, the staring, the way we-" I stop short, not really wanting to talk about how the sex we had before he left was something more intimate and amazing than any time before. "You got a chance to say your last words, Harry. You asked me questions, you got your last kiss."

"So did you," he says quietly, voice shaky.

"But I didn't know it would be the last one." My voice is trembling now as well. Reliving this is a lot harder than I imagined it would be.

"I thought it would be easier that way," he says softly.

"Easier? For who?"

"For you."

"No, you thought it would be easier for you." I can see the hurt in his eyes at my accusation. "You didn't want to have to say goodbye and explain yourself."

"You know what, you're right," he says, taking a few steps towards me. "I did think that, because I couldn't bear to see the look in your eyes when you realized that I was leaving you. Can't you try and imagine how hard that was for me? I stayed awake that entire night, just staring at you and trying to make myself leave."

"At least you knew what was happening! All I got was waking up to an empty bed and that stupid fucking letter you left me. And even that didn't give any explanation."

"I just wanted you to be safe. From Zayn," he defends weakly.

"Well, that didn't work out very well."

His eyes narrow a little at that. "What does that mean?"

I close my eyes to try and stop the tears. "I went looking for you."

"You...you what?" His eyes dance back and forth between mine, trying to understand. I've never told anyone this before. No one knows.

"I went to Bradford."

We both stand there silent for a few minutes. I can feel him staring at me, but I just stare at his chest, waiting for a response. It feels like hours before he speaks again, and his voice is barely a whisper.

"When?"

"About a month after you left."

More silence.

"Why?"

I finally look up at him. He looks desperate. "Why do you think?" He doesn't respond to that question. Did he really think I would just give up and move on like he asked me to? That's one of the things he wrote to me. I want you to live your life and be happy. Don't try to find me. Like hell. I was so angry when I read that. But I couldn't find him, so it didn't matter anyway. then I gave up.

"Why would you put yourself in danger like that? That's exactly what I was trying to avoid. How could you do that?"

"How could I do that?" I'm yelling now. "How could I? You are seriously asking me that question? I wasn't in danger Harry. Why would I be in danger?"

"What if he had seen you? Did you ever think of that?"

"No, I wasn't really thinking about Zayn," I spit. Why is he angry at me? I'm the one who should be angry!

"He would have killed you!"

"What?" I can feel the shock apparent on my face. Kill me? Why would he kill me?

"He threatened to..." he looks between my eyes again. "Wait, do you not know?"

Harry's POV

"Know what?" she asks, confusing spreading across her features.

"I told him to explain...What did Niall tell you after I was gone?"

"He said Zayn finally convinced you to leave."

What? What the actual fuck! I told him to explain everything to her so she would understand that I didn't want to leave her! Now what? She thinks I just took off to rejoin them? She thinks I just left her for no reason?

"I just figured things were getting to be too much for you."

"You honestly thought I just took off?" My heart is breaking right now. Lana thinks I actually didn't want to be with her anymore. I'm going to kill Niall. How could he let her think that?

"Things were so complicated..."

"Baby, it killed me to leave you. It was the last thing I wanted. Despite everything, I've never been happier than when I was with you." I take a chance with the pet name, but I can't help it. I need her to realize how much I still love her. She thinks I just walked out on her.

"I don't understand," she whispers, looking down at my chest. She really doesn't know.

"Zayn was at the parade that day. He said if I didn't go back he would kill me and Niall-"

"Kill you?" She looks up at my face again in shock. "He would do that?"

I nod. "But that's not why I left. He also said..." I can't tell her this. Maybe Niall had the right idea not telling her.

"Harry, what?" I meet her eyes. There's desperation in them; she's realized that there's something else to the story, something she was never aware of.

My voice comes out so quietly, I don't even think she can hear it. "He threatened to kill you."

"Me?" she whispers, pointing to her chest. I nod and I watch some of the colour drain from her face. "I'm the reason you left?" I don't think she's really talking to me at this point. She looks like her mind is racing, putting the pieces of the last two years together. How could Niall not explain this to her?

"You thought I just left you?" I ask quietly, taking my chances and reaching up to place my palm against her cheek. She doesn't react, just stares at my chest. I can see tears forming in her eyes. She doesn't do anything to stop them from rolling down her face. I reach up with my other hand to wipe them away, but she takes a step backwards, distancing herself from me.

"You should have told me." Her voice is laced with hurt.

"I knew you would try to make me stay. I couldn't let you get hurt," I defend weakly.

"I don't care," she says, shaking her head. "It's my life, it was my choice, not yours."

"Lana, I couldn't just-"

"You broke my heart," she whispers. I can feel tears stinging in my own eyes. I hate this. I hate that she's hurting and that I'm the reason. I hate that we have to relive all of this instead of just moving forward. I hate Zayn for putting us through this. I hate myself for letting him bully me into deserting this girl, the girl that I love.

"Lana," I beg, taking a step towards her. She responds by taking two more steps backwards.

"You should go," she says quietly, staring straight at me. She doesn't look angry anymore. She just looks broken.

"Please, let me explain," I plead. She needs to know how much I still love her. She has to.

She shakes her head as the tears continue to fall. "I can't be around you right now, Harry. You need to go." I stand there, frozen in my place. This can't be it. She's not done with me is she? "Please. I need to think," she says, backing up more to her bedroom.

"Lana.."

"You should have told me," she repeats, before disappearing into her room and closing the door.

I stare at her door for a minute before leaving the apartment and going back upstairs. When I get in I collapse onto the couch, mentally beating myself up as tears roll down my cheeks. Is she right? Would it have been better if I had just explained it to her?

Did I ruin the best thing that ever happened to me for no reason?

Notes

so i know i said i would be waiting for more votes and stuff but i really wanted to write this chapter :P so here it is.

thanks so much for the amazing comments. you guys make me feel so good :) honestly the comments make me want to write more than the stats :P but I do want to see more votes and subscriptions, so spread the word!

love you guys, thanks so much for all of your encouragement :)
xx