Harry's pov
Yes.
I fucked up.
I fucked up really bad.
I left the one girl that loved me through everything, through all my flaws, my mistakes. And I left her 3 times, I broke her 3 times because I was scared.
Now she will never trust me again.
I left her because everything became to real and I was scared of the feelings I had for her. I hurt her, even after I promised myself I wouldn't do it again.
I thought I was doing the right thing.
I wasn't.
After everything I thought that I could come back from tour, confess my love for her and run into her arms, kissing her while the whole world around us just disappears.
I broke up with Camille. I wrote a whole apology speech, explaining why I did what I did. I even made dinner when I realized she wasn't there. Right as I was about to call her the door opens and in comes her and Mr. fancy pants with his suit and tie.
I was so mad and sad and...too many things to comprehend. I never thought for a second she could've moved on from me, even though that's what I wanted in the first place.
All I felt like was a complete idiot.
I don't know why I thought that I deserved her in the first place. After everything I've done, she doesn't deserve some arrogant son of a bitch like me.
When I got up to the guest bedroom I logged into a different Instagram account and looked her up. When I scrolled through her feed I realized that she'd been dating this guy for 5 months.
When I saw her most recent post, that's when I broke.
My British boy.
Her British boy.
British boy.
She called him...British boy.
She called him my nickname.
The one that she gave me.
I feel hot tears rush down my cheeks and try to wipe them away, but they're only replaced by more and more.
Why am I crying? I don't get to cry after the shit I've pulled. I could've had her for so long, but I was just so blind to see.
And now she's replaced me.
I stand up, slowly opening the door and peeking my head out. She wasn't out so I snuck downstairs and decided to try to get everything out everything in a song. I grab the guitar and sit down on the piano bench.
I wonder if she's wrote any songs about me.
Who am I kidding?
I don't deserve a song from her.
*play song now*
I should be writing about Camille. I should be writing about summer fun or my family, but no.
I'm here writing about the girl who could've been mine.
The girl who I lost because I was too stupid to think and open my eyes.
"Don't you call him baby...we're not talking lately...don't you call him what you use to call me.." All that is ringing in my head is British boy. She called him what she used to call me.
"I...I confess..I can tell that you are at your best...I'm selfish so I'm hating it.." She looks happy with him, so why am I not happy?
"I...notice that..there's a piece of you in how I dress...take it as a compliment.."
"Don't you call him baby...we're not talking lately..don't you call him what you use to call me..."
I riff off into a guitar strum, going off beat a little and just playing with the chords. Every strum and chord I play hurts more and more as I go through.
Why does it hurt so bad?
Is this how she felt?
"I..I just miss..I just miss your accent and your friends...but you know I still talk to them.." I try to talk to her friends, but they hate me as much as she does.
"Does he take you walking round his parents gallery..?"
"Don't you call him baby...we're not talking lately..don't you call him what you use to call me..."
"Don't you call him baby... we're not talking lately...don't you call him what you use to call me.."
I transition into just singing out 'ahh.' I just want everything to go away and stop hurting.
I get louder each time, trying to let out all the pain through the only way I know how.
I want everything to go away.
All the pain I caused Emma.
All the moments I chose Camille over her.
All the times she cried because I was stupid.
Everything.
I just wish I could disappear into thin air along with all the pain I caused everyone.
I stop strumming, my shaky hand coming to push through my hair.
I know I can't release this song and let the whole world know it's about Emma. I have no right to write this about her when she's done nothing.
I don't want everyone thinking I'm hurt because of her.
I'm not.
I'm hurt because of me.
I decided to record it and send it to Mitch, along with a voice recording of Camille so he could piece them together.
If pretending that this song is about someone it's not will keep Emma and everyone from knowing who it's really about, then I'll do it.
I'll pretend.
I'll pretend everyday if I can keep Emma happy.
"Harry?" I hear and voice and snap my head to see Emma standing there with tired eyes.
"Yeah." I smile.
"What are you doing?" She asks, furrowing her eyebrows.
"Writing." I mumble.
"Ok. Well, shut the fuck up. I'm trying to sleep." She says.
"Okay." I nod, laughing.
"Stop laughing. You're not allowed to." She says pointing a finger at me.
"Yes sir." I nod, saluting her.
"I'm about to spank that annoying little ass." She mumbles, shaking her head while walking back upstairs.
Well she talked to me, so...baby steps.
Even if she'll never forgive me, just being in the same house with her brings up my mood.
I missed her so much.
She could call me 100 insults and I would just be happy to hear her voice.
I'm pathetic, but I don't care.
I love her.
-
"Emma?" I ask, knocking on her door.
I hear a groan from the other side and a minute later she's opening it with an annoyed look on her face. "What?"
"I was going to go get some food, did you want something?" I ask.
"Actually yes." She says, walking into the room and getting a paper and pencil.
A hopeful smile spreads across my face as I watch her jot something down on a piece of paper.
Maybe she's warming up to me.
She hands me the paper with a huge smirk on her face and when I read it my face drops.
Dildo, butt plug, fuzzy cuffs, sex doll, and lots of other stuff.
Definitely not warming up to me.
"Emma-"
"Oh, and you better buy them all yourself and be sure to wave them around for all the paparazzi to see." She smirks.
"This isn't even food." I reply.
"Well what can I say?" She shrugs.
"I'm hungry for revenge." She replies before slamming the door in my face.
I let out a sigh and walk back down the stairs. I know she won't be warming up to me easily, but she's talking to me at least.
She may hate me, but at least she's acknowledging my existence, so that's a start.
Why'd she have to make my buy her sex toys though?
I'm going to get bashed on Twitter.
I hear a ding on my phone and grab it seeing a notification from Emma on Twitter.
She unblocked me?
I look at to see she tagged me in a tweet. I smile and click on it.
I open it and it's just a picture of me and a middle finder emoji.
Ok, I deserve that.
At least she unblocked me.
-
I know Emma only made me that list of sex toys to buy her just so I could be embarrassed, but I'm still going to do everything possible to make it up to her.
I found one of those sex shops and it is very awkward shopping in here.
There is barely anyone, but it still feels like everyone is judging you. I grab the stuff off her list and place it in a little basket.
My basket is practically full and now all I need is a sex doll. I walk over to the back and see a bunch of inflatable sex dolls lined against the wall.
"For the love of god.." I murmur, shaking my head.
Not only do I have to walk out of a sex store worrying about getting my pictures taken, but now I have to carry a sex doll.
At least the other items could fit in a bag.
I groan and grab one of the dolls, slumping over to checkout.
When I finally get to the front and place down all my items the cashier kept giving me weird glances.
What? Never seen a grown man buy a butt plug before?
"Are you Harry styles?" The man asks.
"Nope." I quickly deny.
"Are you sure you're n-"
"Nope! I'm not Harry styles!" I say a little louder than necessary.
"Ok, sorry man." He says, putting his arms up in surrender and scanning the rest of my items.
I just need to get out of here as quick as possible.
Maybe I can sprint to my car so that way I'd just be a blur.
'Attention: The Flash was seen in downtown La with a sex doll. More on the story here:'
Yeah. That'll work.
I grab the doll and my bag of items and quickly exit the store. I don't see any paparazzi or fans so far. When I finally make it to my car I let out a breath of relief.
As I open the backdoor to throw this sex doll in a camera flashes.
I groan and quickly throw it in the backseat and hop in the car, driving away.
I hate my life.
-
"Emma? I got your stuff." I say, knocking on her door.
She opens it and grabs the bag on things, opening it and looking inside. She bites her lip, trying to hold back her laughter and nods.
"Good." She nods, looking back up to me.
She shoves it back into my hands and I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.
"Now shove it all up your ass." She replies, slamming the door in my face.
I sigh and right as I'm about to turn around the door opens and she grabs the inflatable sex doll from me.
"I'll take this." She says, slamming the door in my face again.
Well, at least she hates me a little less, right?
I don't know, but all I know is that I'm not going to stop until I she forgives me.
And if she never does...then I guess I'll die trying.
That was dramatic, but it is what it is.
///
Another chapter since I woke up to 8k reads.
Thank you all, love you so much!