Things I Can, Things I Can’t

"So what are you going to do for your birthday?" Eleanor had been trying to meet up with me for days, and I eventually had to agree to do something. She was definitely growing suspicious. We walked along the pretty streets around Harry's home, and it wasn't long before the paparazzi had heard that two One Direction girlfriends were hanging out. They kept their distance, as we sat down to a coffee in a quiet, little café.

"Nothing." I said, quickly.
"Don't you want to go out?" She jibed.
"No." I said, too harshly. I clearly couldn't be trusted with alcohol.

Eleanor's eyes widened a little, but she took no more notice. The conversation didn't flow from us like it usually did, because I didn't even have the energy to speak. Eventually, after a coffee, we split up and made our way home.

Talk of my birthday had got me thinking, myself. Soon it would be Harry's birthday, the following week. I knew I needed to sort something soon, for that. But should I? The voice in my head was just telling me that I needed to tell him what happened between Will and I, and let him dump me like I deserved. But the other voice told me that things would never be this good again, and I would lose everything. Lord knows I deserved to.

Harry and I were in conversation for the rest of the day when I got home. When I flopped on the sofa, with a bottle of wine placed beside me, his message made me want to cry and never stop.

i'm glad you had a nice day with eleanor. nearly a month is over, now :) i know things have been hard and i know you're finding this hard, but i'm going to try much harder. i will make as much effort as possible. we will get through it, i promise .xx
Oh God. The guilt washed over me and I grabbed for the wine bottle, throwing my phone across the sofa like a hot stone. I couldn't live with this much longer.
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A few more days passed, and I found myself sitting, drinking alone the night before my birthday. Eleanor had practically begged me to come out, but I lied and told her I would be going for a family meal. I lied to my family and told them I'd be with Eleanor. I just felt so undeserving of everyone's company, especially when all they ever really talked about was Harry. Are you looking forward to him coming home? They would ask, Yeah, looking forward to it. So I could lie next to him and feel suicidal with my guilt. So I could work even harder pretending everything was fine. Although my heart died to see him again, my whole body rejected the idea like a bad organ donor.

I flicked through the channels, and grimaced when I saw the boys flare up on MTV in their latest music video. I quickly switched off the television and sat in silence, drinking vodka from the bottle. My 20th birthday. Definitely one I would remember.

I decided to wander around the house, and ended up in Harry's basement. It was empty of any decoration, or furniture, just boxes and boxes of things. I saw Harry's old school tie hanging out of one of them. Crazy to imagine anybody like him ever even went to a normal school, with normal people.

My fingers danced along the edges of the boxes, absent mindedly studying the contents of each one. One was full of only papers, and it caught my curiosity. I took another swig of vodka and cringed, I was not a drinker.

I pulled out a piece of paper, dated 20th October, 2010. I knew automatically that it was a letter of support for Harry, from the X-Factor days. I didn't expect it to be from his Mother, though. I didn't really know why I was so intrigued to read it, but I did anyway.

"… I've always been so proud of you, Harry, from the moment you were born. Whatever happens in this competition, you will still come back a hero. You are my whole world, and I am so proud that you turned out to be the most amazing teenage boy, with so much respect for others. I love you, so much. Mummy."

Reading the extract made me feel even more guilty. My head swam with sadness, throwing the letter back down. Everyone knew what a good person he was. And everyone would hate me when they heard what I had done.

I took longer chugs of the vodka, realising it was nearly empty. My stomach was on fire with the introduction of so much alcohol, but I didn't care. All I wanted to do was be asleep. I probably over-estimated my drinking capabilities, because soon I was crying, and rushing for the bathroom. I was sick for the second time that week from alcohol, but this time I could barely keep my head up. I finished and laid on the floor, not even able to muster enough drunken strength to put myself to bed. I passed out, shortly after.
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"Thanks, Nick." I said, touching fists with my best friend. "I doubt I'll see you, I think I'm just gonna be with Annie the whole time. But I'm home soon, mate."
"No worries H. Hope she likes her surprise."

I gave him a look that said, I hope so, too. Exiting the car in my courtyard, I felt relief when I saw my bedroom light was on. Annie was here. I was so close to seeing her. She would probably be wrapped up in bed, with no idea that I was about to shock her. I looked at my watch, 4 AM. Not an ideal time to wake her up, but I hoped she'd be so happy that she wouldn't mind.

Flicking through my set of keys, I found the right one and let myself in. I heard music playing in the lounge, and stopped for a moment. What was she doing up? Maybe she decided to go out, to celebrate, after all.

I walked through. No Annie, just music playing to an empty room. I quickly switched it off, and made my way into the kitchen. Again, no Annie. But an empty vodka bottle was laying on its side on the counter.

I made my way up the stairs, with a feeling in my stomach that made me physically sick. Just knowing something was wrong. I rounded the corner to my room, and realised the light I had seen from the outside was from the en-suite. The door open, I walked over sheepishly. I ran a hand through my hair, unkempt and still full of hairspray from the interview that morning. Then, I saw her. Her body was limp, and huddled up as if she was asleep. I leaped down to the floor, shaking her. Jesus Christ, what was she doing?

"Annie!" I shouted, dragging her to sit up by her arms. Relief washed through me when she opened her eyes. Disdain replaced that when she quickly manoeuvred her head over the toilet bowl, emptying her stomach again. I grimaced, the smell of vomit filling the room. She stopped, and tried to push her hair out of her face. I helped her, and grabbed at her, over and over. I knew there was sick on me, but I didn't care. I had never been so worried, so afraid in my life.

"What are you doing? Did you go out?" I asked, desperately searching her face for answers.

She narrowed her eyes, or tried to. Her head moved from side to side like it was on a hinge and she couldn't control it. Finally she spoke.

"Am I dreaming?" She slurred, a mixture of tired and paraletic. I stared at her blankly.
"No, Annie. It's a surprise," I said, growing impatient. "I have a day and a half off. I came back to be with you."

I don't know what I said, but it provoked something in her. As soon as my sentence was finished she burst into tears, drunken, messy tears. I didn't know what else to do except try and hold her, but when I did, she clumsily tried to push me away. This was not the reception I expected.

"Annie!" I shouted, trying to get some sense out of her. She shook her head, crying even more silent tears.

Had I done something? I thought hard. I knew I had been out of the press. I knew I hadn't been unfaithful. I knew I hadn't hurt anyone. Yeah, I had been a bit of an ass on some days when I was tired, but nothing so dramatic to have her react like this.

I pulled her up, grabbing on to her and making her walk into my room. I sat her as best as I could on my bed. She gave me a look when I moved away that I would never forget. Something in her eyes was in severe pain. She just shook her head again, looking at her lap.

"Hey, you." I said, lowering down so I could look into her face. "I'm back, okay? I love you."

I tried to wipe her tears and she pushed my hand away, again. I was growing irritated with her.
She struggled to form a sentence, and when she finally spoke her voice was empty.

"You don't understand." She said.
"What don't I understand? I don't care that you went out. It's your birthday-"
She cut me off. "No! You don't get it!" She cried. "I'm a horrible person."

I gave a small, nervous laugh.

"Annie, you're a beautiful person. Come on, what's made you like this?" I said, trying to hold her hands. She moved so they were solid fists, and I couldn't interlock our fingers. She brought her eyes to mine, the deepest shade of brown.

"Harry," She spoke, and her voice was flat. "I've done something.." Her voice broke. "I've done something so awful, to you."

Notes

I can’t even deal with this chapter - I think I’ve depressed myself!
Sorry for any spacing issues. I used textedit before I put it on here and it hates me when I do that! Please carry on rating and commenting and subbing, I do read everything you say! x