1 - https://pendantstyles.tumblr.com/post/162156321066/emotional-cheating
“God forbid I get tired, Harry.”
The words Harry once neglected before were now imprinted in his mind, not leaving once you did. It was those simple words he knew not to fuck up ever again.
He knows how you are. He knows what you meant by those words. He knows that by what you said, it didn’t mean that you want God to forbid you from being tired physically. He already knew you are every day.
You meant that you didn’t want to get tired in the aspect that you were more than ready to give up. Harry knew how well you could keep up because he’s seen it before.
And God forbid you get tired of him.
There was a thought that appeared from his sub-conscious, making him almost jump in his seat in response of how much he hated it, his large hands gripping his hair.
Alcohol isn’t advisable nor recommended at the moment. It wouldn’t help his case and he knew that exactly.
You though of it too. But minutes later, you found yourself sitting next to the mini refigerator your room has with a beer in hand, putting a bill on the counter with a note because you didn’t want to be like one of those obnoxious guests.
The floor and the beer’s cold, and so is Harry’s flat. He didn’t want to call it home because you weren’t there with him and so was he mentally to be even considered as one.
Harry’s hands were shaking, his thumb reaching out to press ‘send’ along with his hand that reached for your blanket you used to wrap yourself in whenever you were waiting for him, squeezing it.
It took every bit of Harry to stop himself from hurling objects across the room. He’d close his eyes and breathe deeply, until your words of “Self-control, love.” came into effect. He admits that he doesn’t have the longest of tempers and the highest dosage of control.
His attention is fully fixed on his phone now, another pang on his chest when he saw your reply.
He specifically told you not to put periods at the end of your messages because it scared him. Maybe it’s the changed meaning every time there’s a punctuation, maybe it’d the formality.
And right now, he has every reason to be.
“Don’t get tired on me yet. You’re not going to get tired, you’re not. You’re not tired.”
Harry muttered the words once you accepted the call, not letting a single second going to waste since he precisely has 300 of it.
He’s slowly losing his right state of mind without you by his side. He was so used to being tolerated for the way he is that he forgot how to not feel when it was the other way around.
“It’s not for me to decide but I’m trying to influence you to it. The only time you’re going to be tired is when we’re gonna take care of our future kids. You’re only going to be tired when you’re out of breath not because of a fight, but from something we both like.”
Harry’s tears were pouring involuntarily with him not having any control over it, the hoarseness of his voice slightly hurting his throat from speaking faster normally than how he did.
“You’re only going to be tired when we’re packing bags to go on vacation and on tour. You’re only going to be tired from jet lag and lack of sleep and not from us. The only time you’re going to be tired is when we fight with our kids and that’s it.”
The hurt in his chest was starting to get unbearable now, the grip on the blanket to the point where his hand was going numb and his knuckles going white were getting the best of him.
His voice cracked, completely letting go of his ego and his pride, a desperate plea coming from his lips he’s willing to repeat if that’s what’s going to make you agree.
“You’re not going to get tired on me, Y/N. And that’s final.”
He used up a minute, being scared of the remaining ones because those are the last moments he’s going to hear your voice for that day.
“I know I haven’t gave you the best of reasons to not be, and I know that. I do. But love, please listen to me.”
“I know what you’re doing.”
His heart skipped a beat when he heard your voice since he didn’t expect for you to talk, he knew silence was the only thing you could muster in times like these.
“I’m trying to make you come home.”
“Is there home?” you asked in a whisper and ended with a harsh tone in your voice.
His grip loosened, opening and closing his hand repeatedly until he could feel the warmth go back to his veins again.
Harry felt rigid, a cold shiver down his spine from what you asked because he never thought it would come to this. He never thought that you would ask him for confirmation if he still loves you because at moments like this, there was no other choice.
You leaned your head against a cabinet which made you let out a cry, not because of the pain but because of what he answered, an angry cry coming out of your lips that alerted Harry, sitting up straighter.
“Then why the hell did you do it?”
He felt his breathing come shallow, his gaze going elsewhere that didn’t make any sense.
“Because I only thought of myself.”
Maybe you were too selfless that you put Harry on top of your priorities that you weren’t on his.
“Because I wasn’t thinking.”
You remembered all the nights you would greet him by the door with a hug he’d reciprocate half to, ignoring the pain it caused because you love him too much that it hurt you.
“Because I wasn’t thinking of you and I deeply regret that.”
You spilled too much over the tipping point of your rock-bottom, the pain being overwhelming that you were momentarily numb from it until he spoke again.
“There isn’t anyone like you. And I’d rather not have the chance to find that out because I’m not going to take any.”
His voice was stern yet still gentle, a tone on his voice that you barely heard these past few months.
“I’m selfish; I know. I do know that. I’m selfish when it comes to having you because I just am.”
Harry breathed in deeply, his tears decreasing and so is his voice.
“I may not be the best at all things. But I know I’m selfish when it comes to having you because you make me feel like I am. And Y/N, I love that.”
He was starting to get calm now but not too much that he was confident of having you again since he didn’t want to jinx it, a tentative look on the door.
“Please come back here. I know — I know that I don’t hold the many promises that I make but I swear to God that this is real.”
He closed his eyes, wanting to desperately feel you by his side.
The phone dropped, making Harry almost break down right then and there and doubt himself that he didn’t try hard enough. That maybe he was too stupid to take you for granted and have this result.
He was so close to hurling his phone against the wall but no, he decided against that because he’s going to call you tomorrow. Maybe he’s going to call you so he put it down again, an uneasy look on his face.
Minutes or hours passed since he wasn’t sure of it passed and he spent the majority of it crying. He didn’t know why but he chose to relive by the words you told him and how broken you looked. He didn’t know why but it pained him to realize that he’s going to be the only one to do that to you.
He doesn’t know whether it’s a privilege or not.
And so, just as he felt to break the rules and let a friend track your call, the door opened.
You were there standing, a moment of realization hitting you from the moment that you ended the call is that you wouldn’t have it either way.
You’d rather be hurt because of Harry than to not at all.
He stood up instantly, taking careful steps towards you before it sank in him, hugging you so tightly and closely that you could feel his tears streaming down on your neck.
He cried onto you, heavy breathing filling the aie as you let him do it, your arms wrapping around him which made him more than grateful.
He whispered the words, but still loud and powerful enough for you to hear and to be inked forever into you.
You knew it later on by his song, yet it was the most precious to him since it held the most meaning to him, and so did it on to you, letting him convice you to get the title inked onto you, still in the meaning where only he gets to know.
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