Harry Songfic (for anon) Same Mistakes by One Direction
You twisted your fingers into each other, clasping your hands to your knees as you sat on the edge of the sofa and listened for the click of the door. Harry had been gone since 5 that afternoon, and now the clock said 02:14. There was late, and then there was really late. You hadnât heard from him at all, but Niall had text you to say that they were safe and changing venues at about midnight. Heâd text you again to say that he and Louis were going home, but didnât know where Harry was. That was at about half 12. You ran your tongue roughly against your front teeth and softly bit the inside of your cheek. It was the fourth time this week heâd been out like this, and whenever you tried to bring it up he just shot you down and went straight up to pass out on the bed. At 1am, you had gone to your room and packed a bag of your things. The bag now, stared at you from its place by the front door, and you had to hold back tears as you thought of leaving. You knew you were going to cry, and it annoyed you more than anything. You didnât want to feel vulnerable as you said goodbye. You werenât entirely sure if you were strong enough anyway.
The door finally opened and you heard it swing shut, followed by the jangle of keys as Harry threw his onto the side cabinet. You shut your eyes and paused, taking a deep breath, before you stood up and smoothed your trousers with your palms. You looked up as he stumbled into the room, his smile only half there.
âHeyâ he looked at you momentarily before going to turn towards to the kitchen.
âWait.â You told him, cold and tired, and you hoped your voice didnât sound as shaky as you felt. âHarry we need to talk.â
He looked at you concerned, âAre you dying?â
âNo?â You looked back at him baffled.
âThen this can wait. Iâm going to bed.â You had to bite your lip to stop the profanities pouring out of your mouth.
âNo it canât. Iâm leaving.â you rushed out your sentence, scared if you didnât say it quickly, you wouldnât say it all.
His back slowly turned so that he was facing you, and this time his voice sounded like the vulnerable one. âWhat do you mean?â
You took a deep breath and looked at him, while he ran his dirty fingers through his dishevelled hair.
âWhere were you tonight?â You asked him quietly, studying his flickering eyes as he rolled them and shook his head.
âNot this again. Jesus y/n, you take me round in fucking circles - itâs making me dizzy!â He turned around to leave the room, but you stopped him quickly by grabbing his wrist in a panic.
âItâs not the conversation thatâs making you dizzy.â You stated, gesturing to the beer can in his hand.
Harry ignored you completely, âIâm serious y/n, not this again.â
âYes.â your voice shook, and you tried to sound confident. âYes. This again. Answer the question.â
âWhy do you want to know? You know where this takes us, weâve been here time and time again! You know how this turns out, and we both know that you donât want to know again.â He sighed in frustration but you werenât about to step down.
âAnswer me.â You whispered, looking at your feet.
Harry looked at your face, and must have realised that you werenât going to back down this time, and he lead you to the sofa with a huff. He sat and pulled you down to his lap, but you could smell the alcohol and feel the grime of clubs on his clothes, so swiftly moved yourself to the other end of the sofa. His eyes looked hurt at the distance, but you simply stared, emotionless, into his face.
âI was out with Niall and Louis. Where were you?â He tried a smile, but you didnât return it.
âHere. They went home almost two hours before you.â You retorted immediately, and your quick fire knowledge shocked him. He swallowed deeply and held his jaw in his hand.
âYeah.â He stayed quiet, out of witty responses at last.
âIâm sick and tired of this. Every time you go out, you take it too far Haz. You expect me to be okay with that? Iâm not, I donât want to deal with it anymore.â
âI donât know why youâre bringing this up again!â Harry shouted at you, and you flinched. You bit your upper lip and scratched the back of your neck. You were exhausted having stayed up waiting all night, but Harry didnât care.
âBecause if I donât confront it then weâll carry on spending days like weâre perfectly happy and then nights like youâre the last person I want to see. Because if I donât talk to you about it then we'll play all the same old games for the rest of our lives. We canât keep doing the same stupid things again and again, and expect the end to change - thatâs not how it works. Thatâs crazy talk.â
Your eyes were threatening tears and you blinked them back, focusing on your twisted fingers rather than facing him. You took a deep breath in, and after a few seconds, you couldnât take his silence.
âWe both need to wake up.â You whispered, raising your head. He was staring at you shaking his head in realisation.
Harry awkwardly shuffled over to you to grab your hands in his, and tilted your chin to look at him. Â
âY/n, love, donât do this. I know what youâre saying, youâre totally right. Totally, totally, totally.â He paused and you sucked your cheek, waiting for him to continue. He looked deep in thought, his brow furrowed and his eyes squinted. He dropped your hands suddenly, before hesitantly he spoke again, trying not to slur his words.
âHeyâŠ,â you looked at him, eyes raised in anticipation, before he continued, âTotally. Is like⊠Total. Completo. Done. Total.. Lee.â
You threw your hands to the ceiling and it took everything you had not to burst into tears. He was pissed-drunk, and probably wouldnât remember what youâd said in the morning.
âWeâll talk in the morning. You sleep here.â You pointed to the sofa and ignored his pout, before turning to go to your room, completely ignoring the suitcase by the wall. You didnât have the strength to leave right now, or the heart.
You woke up the next morning and nearly cried at the feeling of an empty bed. You were still fully clothed, and your jeans were uncomfortable hot against your leg as you stumbled downstairs.
Harry was sat, in nothing but his boxers, nursing a glass of orange juice at the breakfast bar in your kitchen. At your entrance, he got up quickly and rushed to you, but you took a step away from him and he stopped. Your first tear crawled down your cheek as you looked up at him, and he licked his lip slightly.
His hand found its way to hold the back of his neck, and his lips turned up weakly at the ends. âMaybe if we face up to this we can make it through this and come out the other end closer and stronger than we were before. We can carry on, weâll be okay.â His voice was soft and his voice placatory, but you werenât ready to give in. He thought a few words were going to fix it, he probably didnât remember half of what youâd said last night. You were suddenly feeling drained, and leaned, defeated, against the door frame.
âYou donât get it Harry!â you cried in desperation, balling your fists to your chest, âWeâre broken, Iâm broken. This whole thing, itâs destroyed.â
âNo baby, y/n you know that thereâs nothing drastic to fix, weâre so good, I love you. Itâs all going to be okay, I promise.â He sounded so sure, he pleaded with you and his eyes were red. You wondered if heâd got any sleep at all.
You shook your head, calmer now, âWhen it's broken, you say there's nothing to fix and when itâs going shitter than ever you just pray that everything will be okay, but thatâs not gonna work even a little bit while you're making all the same mistakes. Ever thought that the past is so rubbish that moving on to the future seems futile?â you asked, quietly at the end - as if you didnât really want him to hear your question.
âSo letâs forget the past, everything. We can start again. Never look back.â He looked at you hopefully, his arms clasped together, the back of his right hand pressed up against the warm skin under his chin.
âIf we donât look back then youâre never gonna learn Harry. Youâll forget what annoys me and then the only thing that we get out of it is another fucking conversation like this one.â He still didnât understand, and you turned to leave. This was it. You couldnât spend more time explaining to him if he was never going to understand.
You turned to walk into the hall and collect your bag, smoothing down your creased shirt, when you felt his large hand at your wrist. He spun you around and your face was pressed against his chest. He smelt better this morning, he smelt of your bed. His tired, natural smell that youâre house had adopted. You felt yourself melt even then, and you instantly knew youâd be unpacking your bag. You couldnât leave him. Not when there was so much to stay for.
âThen we change.â He kissed your head quickly. I wonât go out.â Another kiss. Iâll do anything baby,â and another, âI promise.â Another kiss pressed against your hair, âJesus, I miss you alreadyâ and two more, âand you havenât even left yet.â he pulled your head away from his chest gently and looked into your eyes, pressing his forehead against yours, âI love you.â
You smiled weakly and shrugged, and his lips found their way to yours with ease, lightly and quickly.
âLast chance.â You muttered under your breath, practically into his mouth.
âLast chance.â He responded, equally as muffled.
