I have never been more genuinely worried about myself.

At eleven in the morning on a Saturday, I am having a staring contest with a journal.

And the journal is winning.

I have been staring at the brown leather book that haunts me in my sleep, trying to decide what I should do with it for the past ten minutes. I am almost a hundred percent sure that I want to give it back to Harry, but I don't know how to approach him about it.

Having just about enough, I grab the journal out of frustration and throw it on my bed with a heavy sigh. As I begin to walk out of my room, I notice a piece of paper fall onto the floor and I stare at it intensely, not knowing if it came from the journal or if it was already there.

I walk over to the paper and pick it up skeptically, unfolding it a few times until the words are legible. My breath gets caught in my throat as my eyes read the first couple of words on the paper, suddenly feeling like I just committed a crime by reading them.

I'm sorry.

It definitely came from inside of his journal, but the paper I was holding had a rough edge, so he must have torn it out because it also looked like he had crumpled it up and tried to fix it.

Instead of reading what was on the paper, I scanned the amount of text written down, and it covered the entire first page. The last few words read: Ti amo, baby

- H.

The familiar feeling of heartbreak hit me as I read those those words in his voice, my chest tightening as I folded the paper back up and slid it back into the journal, not bearing the sight of it anymore.

I have to give it to Harry.

I grab the journal off of the bed and make my way out of the apartment before I can change my mind.

I stop in my tracks when I spot Zayn walking out of the elevator. He smiles when he sees me and makes his way over to where I stood next to the door that led to the stairs.

"Good morning." He greeted, his smile slowly falling when he saw what was in my hands. "Did you finally read it?"

"No. I'm giving it back to him." I tell him, regretting it when I see his expression. He is not happy.

"What? Why? You can't do that." He says sternly, reaching over and attempting to take the journal from me. My reflex's kick in and I move it away. "Maddie, give me the journal."

"No." I replied, pushing his hands away. I open the door quickly and make a dash up the stairs, hearing his heavy footsteps behind me.

When I finally make it up to Harry's floor, I close the door behind me to slow Zayn down, knocking on the apartment door a little to roughly.

"Jesus, you run like a track athlete!" Zayn groaned as he comes running out from the door, appearing out of breath.

"I'm not keeping it." I tell him quietly through gritted teeth.

He gets extremely close to my face and whispers "yes you are."

He tries taking the journal from me again, but fails when I shoved it up my sweatshirt and put my hands out at my sides. "Try getting it now."

He looked at me as if saying are you serious? "You think I won't?" He scoffed. My eyes widened when he charged at me and I turned around, shrieking when his arms reached over my shoulders and tried reaching into my sweatshirt.

This guy is insane.

"If this is because I'm better at you in hockey then I'm sorry! Actually, no I'm not sorry." I distract him in panic, desperate to make sure he does not take this journal.

"What? No, you're not." Zayn says, clearly not distracted enough to let me go because his grip around me tightened.

"Yeah, okay." I wheezed, continuing to fight against him. I forgot how strong hockey guys are. "I will scream rape if you do not get off of me." I breathlessly struggled to say, feeling his weight on my back.

"Give me the journal and I will." He grunted, not believing me.

I take a deep breath and get ready to scream, catching Zayn off guard when he actually heard my voice. "RA-"

He slapped his hand over my mouth, the rest of the word coming out muffled. I licked his hand, but he didn't move it away. At least he stopped trying to grab the journal.

That was the moment the apartment door opened to reveal a shirtless Harry, making Zayn freeze above me.

Harry looked completely and utterly confused at the sight. "Hi?"

"Can you get off of me?" I groaned, trying to shove him off with my elbow, but he wouldn't let me go.

"I can't let you do this." He whispered, but Harry heard and questioned it.

"What is happening?" He asked, looking like a lost puppy.

Abs and tattoos filled my vision, but I scolded myself mentally. Now is not the time.

"I apologize in advance for this, Zayn. I hope you can forgive me." I say in a disappointed sigh, closing my eyes as I prepare myself for what I'm about to do.

"What do you m-" He wasn't able to complete his sentence because I lifted my foot behind me and kicked him where I think was his balls.

He groaned and finally let me go, so I take the opportunity to push Harry into the apartment and close the door behind us, sighing out of relief when I locked it and leaned against it.

"What is going on?" Harry asked me, his confusion growing. It took me a minute to realize he was actually speaking to me and not running away.

As I was about to answer, the journal fell out of my hoodie and onto the floor between my legs.

Harry's eyes went wide and his face turned ghost white at the sight of it.

"W-where did you get that?" He stutters, looking between me and the journal in panic as I reached down to grab it.

"Gemma gave it to me before she left and told me I had to read it." I say, my heart racing as I quickly added in "I didn't read it, though."

The color in his face returned, but he still seemed on edge at the idea of me having it.

"I actually came here to give it to you. Zayn was trying to stop me, as you just witnessed, but it didn't feel right having it with me. I don't want to invade your privacy." I spoke again, seeing as he wasn't saying anything. I hand the journal to him and he takes it carefully in his hands, not taking his eyes off of it.

"Oh." He says breathlessly, looking back up at me. "Thank you."

"Mhm." I hummed, shifting on the heels of my feet. I could sense the thick tension in the air, and it was clear things have become awkward, and I was about to make it worse by bringing up the one thing he's been avoiding. "Obviously we still need to talk about what happened...but, judging by the fact that you've been avoiding me, I'm going to wait until you're ready. So whenever that may be, you know where I live." I finish, feeling weight lifted off of me after I was able to get that out, adding in my confession. "For the record, I don't regret it."

Harry stays quiet on that subject, but I quickly add onto it before I would leave. "And for the time being, please stop ignoring everyone else, Harry. You want to ignore me? That's fine. Just don't channel that energy towards our friends. They didn't do anything."

The hardened stare in Harry's eyes was released and was replaced with guilt as I unlocked the door to finally leave, but once again, something else popped into my mind. "Also, thank you for the gift. I love it."

Finally feeling free of any thoughts, I opened the door, but the sound of his voice made me stop.

"You're not even curious about what is inside the journal?"

Sighing, I turn around, answering his question so I can make sure Zayn is alive.

"I was a little, but your privacy is more important than fulfilling my curiosity."

His lips twitched up into a smile, and I tried my best to keep my eyes on his face, digging my nails into my palms every time my eyes were to go any lower than his chin so I could remind myself to focus. Fuck him for looking so perfect all of the time damn time. It really shouldn't be legal.

"I left it in England for a reason. I was scared of bringing it with me in case I'd run into you and you'd find it." He says quietly, chuckling to himself. "I guess it didn't turn out like I'd planned."

I didn't say anything else, listening as he continued.

"Every page in here I wrote for you and only you. And now that you know it exists..." He trails off, speaking in more of a whisper now as he walked up to me again, but this time gave me enough space so I wouldn't push him away.

I flinched when he grabbed my right hand and held it in front of him, placing the soft leather in my hand and staring directly into my eyes, making me more nervous than ever with the way he was looking at me. His eyes are more beautiful than I will ever be.

"You're the only person that is allowed to see what's inside." He says, leaving the journal in my hands.

My breath get caught in my throat when his soft lips make contact with my cheek. I was too speechless to stop him when he gave me a small yet nervous smile and went into his room.

Still a little shocked, I grip the door handle and walk out of his apartment slowly, still seeing Zayn on the floor holding his groin with a pained look on his face. But it washed away when he saw the journal still in my hands.

"He gave it back to me." I scoffed in disbelief. He wanted me to read it. I'm not gonna lie and say I'm not incredibly curious now, but I still didn't know if it was a good idea.

I know I said I'd read it if Harry gave me the permission, but that was because I thought I'd never get his permission. Now that I have it, I didn't know what to do.

It still felt wrong despite the fact he just told me I could read it. No, not could. I had to read it in order for us to finally talk, so I guess I had no choice.

"Does that mean you're going to read it?" Zayn asked, his voice strained as he slowly got up from the ground, holding himself as he took a deep breath.

"I think I may have to." I sighed, dropping my hand with the journal and lifting my left wrist when my watch vibrated, seeing a preview text from my dad telling me he was on his way to drop the kids off.

"I have to go. I'll see you later." I tell him, beginning to walk towards the stairs, sighing when he yelled out his last words before the door can shut.

"Read the journal!"

• • •

It was around nine when there was a quiet knock on my front door. If I weren't in the living room, I probably wouldn't have even heard it.

"It's open." I say loud enough for the person to hear, feeling too lazy to get up despite the fact that I could have just invited a serial killer into my apartment.

The door opened slowly to reveal the last person I thought would come over right now.

"Hey." Harry greeted apprehensively, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"Hi." I respond quietly, grabbing the remote from next to me and pausing the episode of Peaky Blinders I was on.

"Can I...?" He trailed off, nodding to the spot next to me on the couch.

"Yeah, of course." I answered quickly, scooting over to give him room to sit.

He smiled shyly before removing his shoes and sitting down with one foot tucked under his thigh so he was facing me.

"What's up?" I asked slowly, unsure as to why he was here.

"I'm sorry."

Oh. I guess we are doing this now.

"Not just for ignoring you after what happened, but I'm also sorry for letting it happen." He continued nervously.

Okay...I wasn't expecting that.

"So what you are saying is that you regret it?" I asked him, keeping a straight face.

"Yes."

Wow. Way to kick me when I'm down, Harry.

Before I can give him any type of reaction, he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I do regret it."

Okay, I heard you the first time, asshole.

As I fought the tears that threatened to surface, my breath got caught in my throat when I saw he had moved closer to me, his knee brushing against mine through the blanket over my lap.

"I regret it because it was a reminder of how amazing it feels to kiss you...and now I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself around you."

Oh. So he didn't actually regret it. Good to know.

Not knowing what came over me, I found myself leaning forward slightly, my palm face down on the couch inching towards his hand and caressing his finger with mine.

I felt a tight squeeze in my lower abdomen, and I suppressed the gasp that threatened to leave my throat when Harry's lips faintly brushed over mine.

"So don't." I found myself whispering to him, immediately regretting how desperate it made me sound. I notice him gulp harshly, trying to keep his eyes on mine but they glanced down to my lips.

"Fuck, don't say that if you don't mean it." He screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

I almost gave in, wanting to tell him that I do mean it, but seeing him like this because of me made me feel powerful, and I wanted to keep going.

"You are...the most confusing fucking man I have ever met." I whispered with a quiet chuckle, not backing away from him. Instead, I lift my hand and drag my finger up his arm slowly.

"I learned from the best." His reply left me stunned, but I didn't let it show. My finger continued up his arm of ink, and then fell down to his thigh. He sucked in a breath, but kept extremely deep eye contact with me, waiting for one of us to give

in to the tension.

Our conversation took a very sensual turn, and neither one of us made a move. He was breathing unevenly, and I was starting to feel myself lose, ready to satisfy the temptation that surged my body.

So I did.

Unlike the last two kisses, this one didn't start with force. I allowed my lips to brush against his before we both met in the middle, kissing him slowly. He sighed through his nose before starting to move his lips against mine at the same pace.

It was gentle and unhurried up until the moment my hand inched up his thigh. He slowly fell back on to the couch while I climbed over him, my knees on either sides of his hips while my hands pressed into the couch above his shoulders. That was the moment our kiss started to speed up.

His hands gripped my hips tightly, titling his chin upwards to deepen the kiss as his tongue slipped past my lips.

Our breathing grew heavier by the minute and soon enough, I was pushing off of the couch so we were sitting up again, my fingers tangled in his hair while his hands roamed my back.

I was straddling his waist and between my thighs, I felt the bulge beneath his sweatpants, which made me smile against his lips.

His hands went back to gripping my sides, and he let out the deepest moan when he pulled my hips forward, guiding me to grind against him.

"Is this..." he trailed off breathlessly. Knowing he was asking if this was okay, I nodded and pressed my lips back onto his.

I forced my own moans down just to hear his, and it spurred me on even more. I don't know how we ended up here, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. I didn't want to stop.

He struggled to keep kissing me because of his uneven breathing, and the sound of name escaping his lips made me feel hot, and I think it was obvious by now that I was enjoying this because of the arousal between my legs.

"Fuck..." He moans against my lips, his fingers digging into my sides as his breathing became louder and quicker, telling me he was close.

I nearly felt like passing out because of how overwhelmingly amazing it felt to hear how vocal he was, but he didn't let himself go. He was desperately trying to get me there first, and that just made me kiss him harder while tugging on his hair a little tighter.

"It's okay." I found myself breathing against his lips. I didn't care about my needs, just wanting to be able to watch him reach that point. As close as I was getting, he was my priority, and at this point, it was almost like a contest to see who can prolong it the furthest.

He shook his head, still set on his rule of making sure I was taken care of first. He bit down on my bottom lip, pulling my hips forward and whimpering quietly as he continued to struggle kissing me back.

"Harry-"

I hummed in surprise from the force of his lips as he cut me off, feeling myself being pushed back onto the couch with him hovering over me. He cupped the back of my knee, pulling my body as close to his as possible. Our chests were flushed against each other's, and I felt the cool metal from his cross fall on my throat from inside of his t-shirt.

I still can't believe this is happening.

The amount of love I have for this man can't be real, and I am scared of what's going to happen after this moment we are sharing is over. If he going to ignore me again? Will he tell anyone it happened? Are we ever going to actually talk about what has been happening between us lately?

So many questions roamed my mind, but I shoved them all aside to worry about later, wanting to enjoy this moment while it was actually happening.

His lips separated from mine and moved to my jaw, and my hips had a mind of their own, lifting off of the couch and begging for friction. When I got some form of relief, I let out a strangled breath, bringing myself closer to satisfaction, and I can tell he was still trying very hard to keep this going as long as possible.

My body froze when I detected the sound of keys outside of the door, and I didn't know what I was doing next until Harry was on the floor, my blanket falling onto his face.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." I whispered, hearing him groan quietly. "Are you okay?"

He gave me a thumbs up, but then he realized why I pushed him off of me when the front door opened to reveal my brother walking in with Anna and a car seat in his hand.

Anna's eyes widened while Brandon looked between Harry and I weirdly.

"Hello." I waved awkwardly after clearing my throat.

"I don't want to know." Brandon says as he walked past the entire scene and to his room.

"Why is he on the floor?" Anna questioned, fighting a smirk because we both knew the answer. The same exact thing happened when I walked in one day to find my brother on the floor and her in my position.

"Shut up."

She snickered and followed my brother to his room.

Once I saw his bedroom door close, I fell back onto the couch with a groan. "Oh my god, that did not just happen."

Harry sat up slowly, rolling my small blanket it up and setting it back on the couch. He stared down with his eyes screwed shut for a moment and I fought a grin when he made sure my brother wasn't going to walk out before reaching into his pants and adjusting the problem with a pained look.

"Is this the part where you make me leave?" He asked humorously, finally looking at me. I turned my head and sent him a glare, but my level of worry dropped because he at least make a joke about our situation instead of running away.

"Do you want to keep going?" He followed up, speaking slowly.

I sighed and placed my hands over my face, still feeling embarrassed about what just happened. Now I know how Anna felt when I walked in on her and my brother.

But hey, at least Harry and I were still in our clothes.