Insecurities
Based on: Can I request one where H’s new girlfriend is a little insecure that he’s still friends with Camille
Word Count: 880 words
Warnings: angst
Y/N looked up from the article she was reading on her laptop when Harry’s light laugh reached her ears. She was situated on the dining table, surrounded by a few books, coloured pens, and highlighters. Her glasses were slipping down her oily nose caused by the stress that was currently being built by the fact that midterms were coming too soon for her liking.
Her brain felt cramped trying to store a plethora of information in such a short amount of time. And frankly, Y/N was to blame for putting studying off to the last minute. Two and a half weeks to be exact— when she should have been keeping up, reading the materials as the weeks passed.
Right now, having heard Harry snicker for the umpteenth time as his thumbs tapped away at his new glossy iPhone made her annoyed at how much free time he had in his hands. Y/N knew that Harry worked hard. Heck, she was the one who held a front-row seat of his non-stop planning and organizing of whatever it is that had to be scheduled for release. And yes, it is just the stress getting to Y/N, but she wished Harry would not rub it in her face.
Plus, she really was not getting this one concept even though she had read it over and over, trying to make it make sense. She felt a prickle of a tear warm the corner of her eye as frustration seeped through her.
“Why can’t you just get it, Y/N?” She whispered to herself, hatred whistling past her lips.
Her temples were cradled in the palm of her hands when Harry boisterously laughed once again. She gave him a side-eye, although he never noticed it as he was deeply engaged in the contents of his phone.
Her brain was working overdrive. The puzzle pieces clicking together to form a coherent conclusion on what this concept had to mean was about to be inferred when Harry’s voice cut through the thick air that surrounded Y/N.
“Camille!”
Y/N eyes darted quickly to Harry’s back rested against the black leather sofa. His arm was outstretched to give Camille a view of his whole face, while the opposite waved at her.
“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Harry spoke, shifting his body to a more comfortable position.
Y/N seemed to have been glued to her seat, heart-pounding and confusion sweeping the information she was studying to the back burner. Is this normal?
Camille was Harry’s ex, and it was definitely not low key. Leading up to Fine Line’s album release, there had been many speculations about Camille and Harry’s past relationship and Cherry had confirmed it. As well, Harry’s vague answers simply added more to the mystery that surrounded them. She knew that she couldn’t escape the constant media attention about his past, but she told him and herself that she could handle it.
And she could. At least, if it came from the media, then Y/N could pretend that the couple never existed. But it was hard acting as though it didn’t hurt her when Harry himself was still attached to his ex.
“Ignore them,” Harry protested, shaking his head at what Camille was saying through the phone. Y/N was a bit far to hear what she was saying, but judging from the tone of Harry’s stern voice; she ought to take his advice. “The media twists everything up. You and I both know what really happened,”
Y/N raised her brow, biting her lip as Harry continued talking.
“You’re the kindest, sweetest person I’ve ever been with,”
She snapped her head quickly to the screen illuminating before her. The words seem a little blurrier now and her glasses were fogging up. Jealousy rumbled through her because not days ago did Harry comfort her by saying the exact same thing.
“We both made mistakes,” He hummed, reminiscing about his past with her. “Do you want me to come over? I know how bad it can get,”
Y/n scoffed quietly. She, too, knew how bad the constant criticism can get. Having dated Harry for months meant that she had somewhat familiarized herself from being compared to Camille, especially when she apparently had Y/N beat in the song department. That being Harry had not dedicated a song to Y/N, yet he had released a full album about his ex.
She was treated like trash but she powered through, determined to make it to the end with him but it seemed that he wasn’t on the same page.
Quietly, Y/N padded towards her bedroom, making sure to keep her steps light so as to not draw attention to herself. Not like Harry would notice her, especially when he spoke to Camille on the phone.
She felt as if she had been punched repeatedly. Her heart dropped to her stomach and the weight on her shoulders suddenly doubled to a size she couldn’t carry. All she wanted to do was lay down and try to erase the entire conversation from her head. Y/N couldn’t even study when everything she thought about was how Camille still held a piece of Harry’s heart—and Harry held a piece of hers.
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