My heart is instantly in my throat as Harry shuts the metal door behind him.

"I had Styles here monitor our conversation from the security office," Alec says evilly.

Harry's face is stoic as he stares at me.

I have no idea what to think, or expect. My throat is dry and I can't seem to form words.

Alec is using my false words about my feelings to get Harry to turn on me.

"Styles, can you vouch for what Rose has just said?" Alec asks, the sinister smile still on his face. "Do you feel nothing for her?"

For a split second, I see emotion flash before his eyes-the green splashing from light to dark in seconds. I see visions of him holding me in the night, me cleaning his cuts, the two of us laughing together, his hand on my hack as we stared at the stars only a few hours ago.

Then his eyes darken, the green so muted it's almost black.

"I feel less than nothing for her," He snaps, tearing his eyes away from me.

I feel my heart crack.

"I suppose I have misjudged," Alec says, raising his eyebrows. "But there's always the chance that you're lying." His eyes flash.

Harry swallows. "I told you. she doesn't know anything. Why would I tell her anything?"

Every word that escapes from him seems to hit we harder, but I keep my expression neutral.

"Get her out of here, Styles. I expect you attending meetings, from now on," Alec snaps, picking up the papers on his desk and straightening them.

Harry nods and paces out of the room.

I stand from my seat, taking one last look at Alec before turning and following Harry.

I hate Alec.

When I emerge from Ivory and into the alley, Harry stands by his car, which is parked across the street.

"Get in," He snaps at me when I near him.

I sigh and comply.

It seems that every time I'm at Ivory, Harry ends up fuming at me.

"I don't understand," I say. "What were you doing there?"

"I went to talk to him beforehand, to make sure he wasn't pissed because I've missed meetings. He caught sight of you and Louis walking in and told me to wait in the surveillance room." Harry doesn't even look at me.

I look at my lap.

The car ride is silent.

I lean my head against the window, shutting my eyes.

"Don't fall asleep in my car again. I won't carry you up."

I flinch at Harry's words, sitting up straight. "I wasn't going to."

Harry's hands grip the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles almost turning white.

"I don't know why you're so pissed off," I say to him.

"I heard everything you said," He snaps. "Everything."

"So what?"

"So, you basically said you could give a flying fuck about me."

"Why does that matter to you?"

"Of course it matters to me, we're friends." He shakes his head. "We were friends," He corrects himself and my heart sinks.

"That's not the reason, and you know it," I say. "You have feelings for me, but you won't say."

"I have no feelings for you, Rose. I would rather crawl on my hands and knees back to Violet than ever have feelings for you."

His words hit me hard and I bite my lip to keep from crying.

"You're lying." I call him out as he pulls into the lot of our apartments, parking the car and getting out hastily.

l follow quickly, having to run to keep up with his long strides.

Alec did this, I know he did. He wants to tear Harry and I apart, and he's succeeding.

"What about the time we spent together?" I shout, grabbing his wrist to make hims top walking.

He recoils, coming to a stop.

We stand in the parking lot, the wind blowing harshly around us.

"What about when you let me stay those nights with you? What about the time you let me sleep next to you? What about when you said if you had one wish, you'd wish for me? What about when you kissed me, Harry?" My voice cracks.

He doesn't meet my gaze. "You're the one who said you didn't feel anything," He snaps. "You said it to Alec's face, right there. I saw it."

"I said it because if he found out I did have feelings for you, we'd both be screwed!"

His eyes snap to me. "You have feelings for me?"

"Of course I have feelings for you, Harry! For the love of God, how could you not know that by now?" I look away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. "You...you ignite this fire in me I didn't know existed, Harry. Whenever I'm around you there's like this force that draws us together, and I don't know why or how but addicted to it."

He doesn't answer and I look back at him.

"It doesn't matter, though," I say. "Because you don't believe in any of that, right?"

He looks down.

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. "You don't believe in happy endings, prince charming, and certainly not love."

I open my eyes and turn on my heel, entering the lobby and leaving Harry to watch me walk away.

I think I hear him call my name, but I ignore him and take the stairs up.

I slam the door to my apartment behind me, tears overflowing in my eyes.

I hate Alec, I hate him so much for doing this. He saw right through my lies, and he used them against me.

I hate Harry, too. I hate him for believing what I said, and for taking it to heart.

I drag myself into the shower, trying to wash away the events of the day, but it's no use. Harry's hurt, dark eyes still swim through my mind.

I change into my pajamas and sit in bed, turning on the TV, flipping through the channels lazily.

It's past eleven pm, and I have no desire to sleep, when I know Harry will only lace my dreams.

I finally fall asleep around midnight, the TV still on low volume in the background.

And as I drift off, I realize I don't only have feelings for Harry.

I love him.

•••••

When I wake up the next morning, the ground outside is white.

I wrap my robe tighter around me and marvel at the fact that it's snowing so early in the year-late November, when it usually doesn't snow in Portland until late December, if at all.

I make myself coffee and watch the morning news, pulling my hair into a ponytail.

Around ten I get dressed and straighten my hair, and write out a grocery list.

I feel almost numb from my encounter the night before.

At eleven I gather my things and step out into the hall, turning to lock my door behind me.

Of course, just my luck-so does Harry.

"Hey," He says and I force myself to look at him.

He wears a Rolling Stones t-shirt with a grey sweatshirt, his coat draped over his arm.

"Hi."

He scratches the back of his neck, his eyes moving to the ground before back to mine. "Do you want to get lunch?"

I shake my head. "No, thanks."

He looks disappointed for a second before composing himself. "Are you sure? I was going to get Panera."

I love Panera.

I love him.

"I'm sure." He sighs.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright," He says. "I shouldn't have said what I did last night."

I nod. "Okay." I shift my weight. "I'm still not coming to lunch with you."

He runs his tongue over his lips. "Where are you going, then?"

"Grocery shopping."

"I'll come with you, and we can get lunch after."

"No, Harry." I straighten my posture. "I don't...I don't think I can spend any time with you right now."

He stares at me for a long moment.

He finally nods.

I'll admit, it hurts to see him look at me like that, but I nod and walk down the hall deciding on taking the stairs rather than endure an elevator ride with him.

My feet sink in the layer of snow outside, and I leave footprints when I walk. Despite my relatively sour mood, the snow lifts my spirits as I midge to my car.

I blast the heat when I slide into the driver's seat, pushing hair over my shoulder.

I chew on my lip as I drive along, paying close attention to the ice on the road. Snow like this reminds me of New York, and I smile a bit, thinking about my home.

I wonder how my parents are doing-they finalized their divorce only last week. I had meant to call them, but I guess I just forgot.

I dial my mother's number.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Mom. It's Rose."

"Oh! Hi, Rosie, how are you?" Her tone sounds tired, almost worn out.

"I'm fine, how is everything? With...Dad?"

"Oh." She pauses. "He moved out last week. I got custody of the house."

My heart sinks. My parents are really not together anymore.

"Anyway, tell me about Portland."

I tell her how it snowed last night, and how my job is going.

"And how's Aaron? Did you two work things out?"

I almost laugh. "No, no we didn't."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Rose. What about that neighbor of yours?"

I freeze. I don't remember telling her about Harry.

"Neighbor?"

"Elizabeth told me you have a, quote, 'hot neighbor.'"

I burst into laughter, pulling into a spot in the supermarket parking. I now remember telling Elizabeth about Harry the night we made up-although, I didn't quite describe him as 'hot.'

"Well?" My mother asks. I can hear the smirk in her voice.

"Harry and I...are friends," I say. Can I even say that anymore?

I would rather crawl on my hands and knees back to Violet than ever have feelings for you.

I feel less than nothing for her.

"Oh. Well, I hear he's British."

The smile has fallen from my face. "Yeah."

"Rose? Are you alright?"

I shake my head. "Yeah, sorry. Look, I'll call you later this week, I'm at the supermarket."

"Alright, I'll talk to you soon. Love you, Rosie."

"Love you, Mom." I drop my phone in my lap and take my bottom lip between my teeth.

I feel less than nothing for her.

I'd wish for you, Rose.

I would rather crawl on my hands and knees back to Violet than ever have feelings for you.

I'd wish for you.

His words swim in my mind. and I put my head in my hands.

I should have gone to lunch with him, I should have apologized. I should have told him I didn't mean anything I said the night before, and things would go back to normal.

I guess there really is no normal when it comes to Harry and I.

Thanksgiving week passes fairly quickly for me.

Most every day, our "alliance", as we've come to call it, has met. Most days we meet at Harry's place, but sometimes we go to Zayn's. We've decided we need to be a lot more careful when it comes to Alec-he's unpredictable.

We've also established that we're going to need to talk to Robert Crystal soon about Wolfe Enterprises. Our time is running out, and we all know it.

Harry hasn't tried talking to me, and I haven't tried talking to him. He's kept his distance, and I've kept mine. At night, though, he always makes his way into my dreams.

There is only one conversation we have, and it's when I find Harry's mail in my box on Tuesday night.

I knock on his door softly.

When he opens it, he's finishing a phone call, bringing his phone from his ear. He wears a plaid flannel, his feet only covered with socks.

He pockets his phone, and his eyes trail over my face slowly. I feel like he's truly looking into me, straight into my soul.

"Your mail got put in my box," I say finally, handing him the stack of envelopes.

He takes the mail without a word."Oh."

I swallow. ''Thanks," He says.

I nod. "No problem."

I turn and begin to walk away when I hear his rough voice speak my name.

I look back.

"I think we've got to talk to that mailman."

The corners of my lips turn up. "I think so too."

He nods to me again, a small smile on his lips, before closing the door.

I spend Thanksgiving with a few of my coworkers-Zayn, Perrie, Lana, Phil, and Jesy. Perrie cooks dinner at her place, and the food is spectacular. Through the whole dinner, though, I keep wondering if Harry is alone on Thanksgiving.

I stay at Perrie's place until around nine before bidding everyone goodnight, despite their slightly drunken requests that I stay. I tell them I'll see them on Monday and am on my way.

It's when I'm driving down the highway that I get the call.

"Hello?"

"Rose, meet me somewhere?"

I furrow my brow. "Harry?"

"Yeah, it's Harry. Will you just meet me somewhere?"

"Why?"

"Please." His voice cracks slightly at the end and my heart is instantly pounding as I pull onto the shoulder of the road.

"Where?"

He gives me directions and hangs up shortly after.

Worry pulses through me as I follow Harry's directions, pulling into the lot of a restaurant on the Willamette River.

I get out of my car and see Harry pacing by his car a few cars down.

"Harry?" I ask as I approach him.

He stops walking when I near him, his green irises wild. His cheeks are flushed pink from the cold, and he wears his dark jacket and boots. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat.

"I got a call," He says shakily.

"From who?"

"My..." He takes a breath. "My sister."