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Jan 10, 2022

Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Chapter 25

Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Masterlist

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of SA**/Heavy topics

Summary: You are a successful musician, trying to navigate the world of stardom along with your complicated relationship with your best friend, Harry.

Alternatively: The one where Y/N and Harry get too drunk and Anders tells a lie.

A/N: HERE IT IS. This chapter references some of the stuff that happened with Christian back in chapter 10 (I think). It gets a little heavy towards the end so please feel free to wait for tomorrow's chapter if that feels like a bit much! AS ALWAYS, lmk what you think! LOVE YOU ALL MUAH MUAH MUAH.

Song inspo for this chapter: (One of Those) Crazy Girls by Paramore

Chapter 25

“Have you been smoking cigarettes?”

Stunned, you followed Harry into the kitchen. He dropped all of his things hastily onto the counter as if he couldn’t wait another five seconds to feel the burn of tequila down his throat. His phone and keys clambered onto the marble surface, the steely ting of his metal water bottle following soon after. The tequila was sat down with a bit more tact, Oreos chucked to the surface with enough force to send them skittering across the counter top. You remember suddenly, eyes glued to the hairs at the nape of his neck, that he’d asked you a question.

“Just one.” You answered, referring to the smell of smoke that had evidently followed you to the front door like a ghost. He turned to face you, eyes shimmering mischievously.

“You must be more drunk than I thought.” He teased with a sideways grin. He knew you only smoked when you were tipsy, or when Logan smoked and you wanted to feel included. You remembered him once walking out onto the balcony of his house a few months ago, the same brand of cigarette having been forced into your hand as Logan rushed away to give you both privacy. It was after you kissed in his bedroom, when he offered to breakup with his girlfriend for you…

You should’ve said yes.

“Waaaay more drunk than I thought…” Harry broke you out of your thoughts, eyebrows hitched up in an arch. You’d been too lost in thought to answer him, just standing silently.

“Not really anymore.” You answered honestly. You’d mostly sobered up by now. “I just… felt like it.”

He shrugged, finding it odd but not pushing it. Great, now he thinks you smoke cigarettes. He opened up your cabinet above the sink, pulling out two tiny glasses. One had an image of the St. Louis Arch on it, the other a shot glass in the shape of a naked woman's torso. You’d never gotten to take Harry to the Arch…

“I don’t smoke cigarettes.” You blurted. You weren’t sure why. You were so nervous you could feel yourself turning inside out for him. You didn’t want him to feel like you had changed, you wanted to be the same person he had always liked before. Your chest started hammering.

He turned to look over his broad shoulder at you, face contorted in confusion. His eyes passed over your features slowly.

“Okay..” He answered, drawing his attention back to the task at had. The task being, apparently, getting hammered as quickly as possible.

He clicked the glasses onto the counter, slender fingers twisting the cap of his tequila easily. You didn’t recognize the brand, but you were sure that one bottle was worth more than your car. You glanced at the $20 bottle of Smirnoff on your counter across from him, left there earlier in the night, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Harry always teased you about your spending habits, most of the things in your LA home the same cheap shit you’d tried stealing from Walmart back home. You didn’t splurge much, maybe because it had been ingrained in you for so long by your parents that money needed to be handled carefully. Harry had never seemed to subscribe to that belief with you, evident as he purrs the tequila so quickly that at least $100 worth sloshed onto the counter. A man of excess, you’d called him before.

He went for the fridge, eyes narrowing in concentration. His lips parted, a disappointed sigh entering the chill of the refrigerator.

“No Dr. Pepper?” He sighed again, turning his eyes to you while still hunched with the door open. You could feel the cold air escaping through your fluffy frog pants. He’d barely made eye contact with you since he’d come inside, and the gaze made you weak in the knees almost instantly.

“Oh, uh, I’ve been trying not to drink as much soda lately.” You explained stupidly. He nodded, lips forming a crisp line as he shut the door. He knew you always chased tequila with Dr. Pepper, having always sworn to him it was better than salt or a lime. He’d only ever tried it once, sputtering out a cough and insisting it was the worst combination he’d ever tasted. Worse than orange juice and toothpaste, he’d said.

“Trying to lose some weight before the tour and all that..” You continued explaining yourself in reference to the disappointing lack of Dr. Pepper. Harry’s head snapped back to look at you.

“Are you crazy? You don’t need to lose any weight, you already look just fine.” He said, eye contact burning you with its intensity.

“The fuzzy pants hide a lot…” You gesture to your legs only half joking, flopping the material around in your hands. “Tom wants me to ‘get in shape’ so I’m ready in a few months…”

“Do you have any chasers? That aren’t cranberry juice?” He asked, eyeing the counters around you and only spotting the juice you’d left out. “And Tom can suck my dick.”

You felt your chest explode, feeling kind of flattered that Harry would say you look ‘just fine’. The bar must be pretty low at this point if a compliment like that made your entire body light up. You were so starved for his attention that even the slightest compliment made you light up. You shook your head to his question about the chasers.

“Salt?” He asked.

“I’m not sure…”

“Water it is then!” He cheered, clapping his hands. He looked so excited, you couldn’t help but accept the shot shoved into your hand. He really seemed to be in a rush, which was putting you off a little, but he did say he wanted you to have a proper celebration. He started to raise his arm, only halting when your voice cried out.

“Wait!!” You screamed, reaching out a hand to stop him without actually touching him. His eyes widened with concern, his arm freezing instantly. “What are we cheers-ing too?”

He thought about it, eyes lighting up as the lightbulb followed suit in his brown, curly head.

“To being happier than ever.”

He smiled, a warm feeling wrapping around you. You grinned back, heart lurching in your chest. The irony of his words wasn’t lost on you. Still, you both threw back your glasses.

The hot liquor burned down your throat, making your eyes pinch shut. He swallowed easily, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as his head tilted back. Before you could tell what was happening, the tip of his water bottle was being shoved between your lips.

“Here.” He instructed, you greedily sucking down the cool water. It didn’t help, like at all, but it was worth a try. You pulled away, shaking your head. “It’s not as bad as the cheap stuff, right?”

You nodded, eyes watering slightly as the sting finally subsided. “It's better.” You agreed, coughing. “But not that much better.”

Harry laughed, setting the bottle back down without even taking a sip.

“Another one!” He decided, liquor already being poured before you could protest.

///

“You know, this is a lot similar to what I was doing before you came to celebrate with me.” You joked, feet propped up on the coffee table. You turned to look at him, the image swimming just the slightest amount. You were both sitting on the couch, one cushion between your relaxed bodies. His feet were propped up, too, hands behind his head as you were both watching TV. He turned to look at you, eyes glazed over and a smirk across his face.

“But now you’re not alone.” He stated simply.

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you hoped that was covered by the liquor. The shots had definitely helped ease your racing heart, the conversation somehow picking up after a few awkward minutes as if no time had passed. He told you more about New York and SNL and how fun the cast was to hang out with. You told him about your life, too, though almost all of it revolved solely around work and sitting at home like you were now. He had picked out a movie for you to watch, you weren’t sure the name of it, the conversation becoming more sparse but still comfortable.

“It’s not much of a celebration…” You teased him further, sighing dramatically at the end. You wouldn’t have wanted to celebrate any other way, but you couldn’t say that. He sat up straight, unphased and determined.

“We haven’t had enough to drink then.” He decided, pouring more tequila into the glasses on the coffee table. You didn’t fight him, thinking in all honesty that one more shot would make this all feel a little less nerve-wracking. He was acting so… normal. He was acting like there was nothing out of the ordinary going on here at all. He was acting like a… friend. Something about the whole situation just set you on edge despite how content you felt next to the love of your life.

Woah. Wait a minute.

Love of your life? Maybe you were drunk after all. You rubbed the bridge of your nose.

Or maybe you were right. Maybe he was the love of your life and the stars were all aligning for you and the universe was finally at peace as Harry looked affectionately at you with a tipsy expression. Time kept passing but you couldn’t imagine yourself ever loving anyone more than you loved him right now… rosy cheeks and loosely curled hair. The soft tip of his nose, the shape of his eyes. You loved the freckle under his mouth, the way his ears got hot when he took shots.

You wanted to say it out loud. You wanted him to hear it, you wanted to run outside in the rain (it wasn’t even raining) and kiss him hard on his cherry lips and tell him you were his, his, his. The words were only stopped by the burn of tequila washing then down the back of your throat.

“What a piece of shit…” Harry murmured to himself once his shot was down, handing you his water at the same time. It didn’t help the burn, but in some sick way you liked feeling close to him when you wrapped your lips around the straw. Harry was clearly wasted now, his words coming out too easily. He had something on his mind, something he couldn’t help bringing up now.

“Who?” You asked, setting the glass back down. His eyes flickered to you as if he was surprised you’d heard him. He looked suddenly lost in thought.

“Christian.” He stated the obvious answer. You could only nod along, this time pouring the shots yourself and shoving one in his direction. His mind must have been driving to the same places yours hand tonight, reflecting on the man of the hour.

“Tell me about it.” You agreed, a regretful laugh slipping out from your lips. Harry didn’t laugh along, he just stared at the ceiling with his head tipped back behind him.

“I hope he never sells another record again.” Harry continued, holding the shot but not drinking it yet. You giggled, though you weren’t sure why.

“I hope all his hair falls out.” You added. He looked at you as if silently accepting a challenge, the tension faded from his face.

“I hope that when he gets in the car on a really hot day, the belt buckle burns his fingers.” He tacked on to the list the two of you had started. You grinned a bit harder.

“I hope he trips in front of Ariana Grande at the VMAs.”

(Christian was obsessed with Ariana Grande.)

“I hope that no one ever laughs at his jokes again and he feels embarrassed every time he tries to be funny.”

“Nice one.” You hummed, thinking. “I hope he sneezes every time someone takes a picture of him.”

“I hope he gets scammed by a Nigerian prince over email.”

“I hope he gets crabs.” You said, running out of ideas. Harry lurched forward, clutching his stomach with his free hand as he doubled over in laughter. You missed that sound, the kind of laugh that comes out and he can’t stop. The kind that made him slap his hand over his mouth when he’s in public. His shot sloshed a little bit, almost spilling onto his lap.

You both snickered with each other, until suddenly Harry became very serious. His eyes found somewhere across the room, his stare turning icy.

“I hope that every time he tries to fall asleep, he lays there wide awake thinking about what he did to you.” He spoke, words crystal clear through his drunkenness. “I hope that he feels awful and it’s so terrible that it tears him up until he just can’t take it anymore.”

You froze, your body turning to stone. Harry’s jaw tightened, the sharp angle of his bones becoming more defined under his reddening skin. He lifted his glass into the air in a cheers, still not looking at you. “And I hope he never falls in love.” He finished, throwing the shot back.

You followed suit, the burn becoming less and less noticeable as the night went on. You were grateful for the sting this time, the drink giving you time to think of what you should say. There was something behind his word, more than he was letting on. It wasn’t just about the kiss, you knew that. He was mad about more than that.

“It really wasn’t a big deal.” You whispered to him, or maybe to yourself. “The kiss, I mean.”

Harry shook his head aggressively, clamping a hand down on your thigh. The air had shifted drastically.

“Don’t ever say that.” He said, sounding much more sober now. He shook his head again. “Don’t ever, ever say that.”

You just nodded numbly, swallowing. It really wasn’t a big deal… But it had always been a sore topic for Harry so you didn’t push him. Silence blanketed the room.

“You know, it’s funny that you say you don’t talk shit on the internet.” Harry began again before you could say anything else, setting his glass down with a soft thud. “But you’ll certainly talk shit on national TV.”

He looked at you with a satisfied smirk, one dimple denting his cheek. He was trying to lighten the mood. You fell forward, head in your hands.

“You saw that?” You mumbled into your palms, facing him again to see an even broader smile.

“Boy, did I.” He answered. You barely had time to consider that that meant he had heard your answer to the question about the Halloween party and what you’d said about him. He’d seen the way you’d reacted when his name was brought up. You wondered if he had noticed the way you’d stiffened up. He laughed, crossing his arms against his broad chest. “I thought it was very well said.” He assured you softly.

He didn’t give you any time to answer, obviously saying as much about Christian as he wanted to tonight before springing you to his feet. Your emotions were all over the place, desperately trying to keep up with his. You looked up at him over you, heart expanding in your chest.

“Let's dance.” He said, putting his hand out toward you. His mood completely shifted again, your head too cloudy to do anything but follow along. You took his waiting hand in yours, left with no other choice.

There was no music playing, though, meaning you both had to stand there awkwardly as Harry turned the TV to Spotify to find a song. The pause made you drop his hand, the touch too much to bear as you stood there next to each other hand-in-hand. You wiped your hand on your pajamas as if that would remove the sting of his skin from your fingers. He selected one of your playlists you had recently played on your account, turning it to shuffle. Music filled the air and he turned to you, offering his hand once again with a silly little bow. You blinked hard at him, taking a mental snapshot. You accepted as “Float On” by Modest Mouse started playing.

When you were younger, you always thought that those late night car rides with Logan, Layla and Max would be the best moments of your entire life. You remembered sticking your hand out the window, moving up and down through the current, certain that nothing would ever top that feeling.

When you heard your song play on the radio for the very first time, teary eyed and in disbelief, you changed your mind. That was the best you’d ever feel, no matter what else happened.

But then he happened. And he made you feel things that didn’t even compare to that moment. He felt like all the car rides combined, like the last day of school before summer break, like waking up to your mom making waffles. He felt like vodka cranberries and early mornings and late nights. The night he called you his girlfriend for the very first time, you were so positive, once and for all, that that was it. That was the best it would ever get.

But this… this was somehow even better.

Harry spun you around, the two of you dancing like you were the only two people on Earth. You held both his hands, spinning in circles and watching his head fall back as he sang along. He released you, jumping up and down to the beat with his knees nearly reaching his chest. He bent his arms at the elbows, thumbs up on both hands, shimmying his body to the music. He looked so lovely.

When you were able to tear your longing eyes away, you started jumping, too, the hair in your bun coming loose so stray pieces came down to tickle your face. You finally paused to breathe, looking over to Harry to find his eyes glued to you, his lips parted slightly in a smile as he watched you. His chest was heaving, trying to catch his breath the same way you were. You weren’t sure how long he’d watched you, making your face flush. He just stood there, looking at you like he couldn’t look away if he tried. He stepped closer to you, causing the breath you’d just recovered to be lost again. He took your hand, lifting it above your head in a gesture for you to spin. You obliged, trying to be as graceful as possible. Your two left feet tangled almost immediately, causing you to nearly fall. You let out a small gasp before suddenly feeling two firm hands gripping your hips to steady your uneven body.

You snapped your head up in reflex, eyes meeting the green of Harry’s in front of you. He kept his hands there, gripping tightly onto your hips. He was still breathing hard, maybe even harder than before. You were too. You waited for him to release his hold on you, but several slow seconds passed before he finally dropped his hands to his sides. You were both still now, eyes darting away from each other’s in heated embarrassment. You could still feel his fingers where they’d been burnt into you through your pajamas, the touch lingering after he’d already pulled his hands away. Harry ran his fingers through his hair only to realize he had on a beanie, moving to scratch the back of his neck instead. You said nothing, looking down to watch your toes tap against your hardwood floor.

Harry breathed heavily, suddenly clapping his hands straight through the tension of the room around you.

“More shots!” He announced, declaring an end to whatever had just happened. He didn’t look at you again as he poured the tequila, exercising his ability to crumble up tension like a sheet of paper in his hands. He bobbed slightly to the music that was still playing around you, as if the entire moon hadn’t just shifted in the sky. “In Luv with U” by Finn started playing.

You could still feel it, though. The tension. For the first time ever he couldn’t make it go away, at least not completely. You could still feel exactly where his fingers tips had grazed you, where his palms had pressed into your body. He couldn’t make that go away. You reached down, lifting your shot glass for the… fifth time tonight? The burning in your sides didn’t stop, even once the liquor was swallowed and Harry had changed the subject to start talking about something else. You could still feel his fingers. You wondered if they’d leave a scar.

///

The night only got blurrier and blurrier until eventually you forgot all about your little… moment earlier. You tried and failed to play a round of Mario Kart, both of you entirely too drunk to finish all three races. You talked about your least favorite animals and your favorite meals your moms made. You drunkenly slurred about how much you missed your parents, and Harry listened attentively. He talked about how excited he was to go on tour, telling you about the big show he had planned for his album release coming up.

“I want to go.” You blurted, vision literally lagging as you tried to make eye contact. His eyes are so pretty. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Of course you’re coming.” He said as if it was stupid to suggest otherwise. You suddenly felt sick, not because of him but because the tequila was coming back with a nasty vengeance. You ignored it, shaking your head.

“I’m not your girlfriend.” You slurred, leaning back into the couch.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t come to my show.” He pointed out. You thought you could see his expression change, but it was hard to tell. 5 shots was way too many…

“You’re right.” You agreed, beginning to nod before quickly regretting that decision as your stomach turned at the movement. “But it… probably does mean that you… shouldn't be at my house at… three in the morning…”

You were slurring, badly, you could tell. Harry deciphered your words even still. He shook his head, biting his lip to feign indifference.

“Why can’t you get drunk at three in the morning with a friend?” He quizzed you. You shook your head, tsking your tongue at his obliviousness. It wa finally happening, the moment that had been creeping in the shadows of every smile and every brief touch.

“I don’t wanna… be your friend.” You mumbled, meeting his glassy eyes. The glass shattered around you, the seal finally broken.

“Y/N…” He sighed, hurt and confusion washing over him. He seemed tired all of a sudden. “I’m really trying here.”

You hummed in agreement. “Why’d you come over to my house?” You tried to speak, the words close to unintelligible.

“To see you.”

“You’re acting so normal.”

“This is normal.”

You laughed, turning your head to face the ceiling. The fan spun in circles in your vision even without being turned on. It made you sick to look at.

“This isn’t normal!” You finally pointed out. It felt like pulling a bandaid off a fresh wound, cold air suddenly surrounding all the places where your skin was broken. You groaned, suddenly changing the subject. “You made us take wayyyyyy too many shots, Harry.”

He paused. You turned your head back to him to see if he was still listening. He was, his mouth slightly down turned in the corners.

“We we’re celebrating.” He says plainly, his voice harder than before. No, not harder. Just…. Firmer.

“Oh yeah…” You agreed, suddenly remembering why he was even here.

“And I was nervous.” He adds seconds later. His expression doesn’t change, mouth still in a small frown.

“For what?”

“To see you.”

Silence was thick around you. You turned so that your body faced his fully. You leaned forward onto the cushion between you, hand barely catching you as you tipped.

“If I was your friend, you wouldn’t be nervous to see me.” You told him confidently, poking a hole in his story. He didn’t say anything for several seconds. You reached your arm out, fingertips brushing his. His hand reacted to your instantly, lifting so that all five of your fingertips pressed to his before intertwining together. He wasn’t pulling away.

Stop it, you thought to yourself. The thickness of your heart beat was only adding to your nausea, making your head swim. Stop it, stop it.

But you couldn’t. You squeezed his hand in yours, your bodies now facing each other only a foot apart. His jaw was tight, his breathing heavier now like he was nervous. You could practically see his heart thrumming under the delicate skin of his neck.

“I wanted to show you we could be friends.” He swallowed, eyes watching your fingers fold around his.

“We’re not friends.”

“That’s why I’m trying to be!” He snapped, exhausted. He was drunk enough now that he couldn’t hold himself back the way he had been all night. You met eyes again, and you suddenly felt calm. This was going to go one of two ways. “I thought that if I came over here then you would see that we can make this work. I- I was so nervous because I knew it was going to be hard. But I just can’t stay away from you anymore.”

“We can’t be friends.”

“We can!”

“We can’t!”

You both breathed together. Everything always ended in a fight lately, but only because Harry was so adamant in keeping you at a distance.

“It was fine before you brought this up again…” Harry pouted. “It was just like before.”

“It wasn’t. You know it wasn’t.”

“Can you please just give me a chance here? I’m trying-”

“I can’t.“

“You have to!”

The entire exchanged happened quickly, words sputtering out in the shortened gap between you, fingers still interlocked. Harry was upset now, but you would rather get a reaction out of his like this than have him act like everything was fine.

“We can be friends. We have to be.” He spoke, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles.

“Would a friend do this?” You questioned, voice tinged with tequila. You leaned forward painstakingly slow. Your noses were only an inch away now, Harry instinctively leaning forward with you. Your hands were still entwined.

You breathed heavily for a second, eyes flickering between his own gaze and his lips. You lost your nerve suddenly, but you’d already committed to whatever this was. He closed his eyes, as if thinking hard about something. The crease between his brows came forward, the familiarity of that look only making your heart beat harder. His eyes opened again, meeting yours. You were so close now that you could feel his breath hot against your own mouth.

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. Your head was still spinning, your stomach threatening you more and more as you continued to fight back at it. Harry leaned a little closer, the tip of his cold nose touching yours. You breathed a sigh of relief, as if it was the first time. You let your forehead rest on his, the only noise between you heavy pants and the pounding in your ears. “Always Forever” but Cults was playing softly, the melody so sweet and soft around you it felt like you had dreamed it up.

“No, they wouldn’t.” Harry finally spoke, answering your earlier question. You were so close to him now that it was hard to focus your eyes on him in front of you. Still you tried, wanting to take in every delicate detail of his face in front of you. His eyes were shut, the tension gone from his expression now like he was no longer fighting whatever was about to happen. He looked so serene. Your head started throbbing, unable to strain your eyes to look at him for any longer. You let your eyes flutter closed to match his to dull the ache.

His hand still engulfed yours, his skin hot and electric against yours. It was almost too much to handle, this anticipation. It was making you more sick than you already felt.

“We should stop, then.” You responded finally, Harry’s labored breathing only continuing against you. You ached everywhere for him, the last shred of reason you had left telling you softly that this wasn’t right. But the stars were aligned, remember?

“You have to stop me.” Harry breathed desperately against you. “Because I don’t know if I can.”

You willed your body to pull away, but it didn’t. You stayed glued to him, your body betraying you as a hand came up to the hair on the nape of his neck you’d been admiring earlier. You wove your fingers through the locks there, holding him against you lightly enough that he could pull away at any moment if he wanted to.

He did the opposite, a sound almost like a moan coming out front his throat involuntarily. He mimicked you, taking his hand out of yours so that both his hands could grip your face. His touch was feather light, but still ignited every fuse in your body. You were burning up under him.

He moved his body closer to you, further betraying his words. He moved his hands to grip your thighs so that you were pulled onto him, straddling his lap. You were chest to chest with him now, his pulse wracking against your rib cage. His fingers slowly moved up your sides, painting your skin with his touch. Butterflies took flight in your abdomen, a sound similar to the one Harry had made slipping out of your parted lips.

Neither of you made the move, though, simply feeling each other’s closeness as the night froze around you. It was almost like this was enough in and of itself to satisfy you both, simply feeling your skin connecting once again. You could’ve sworn at this point that it had been years since you felt him. You wanted to stay here forever, just like this. Frozen in the seconds just before your lips would meet. Frozen between friends and lovers.

“I can’t get over you, Harry.” You whispered now, the close proximity to him making your throat tight with nerves. He hummed, hands coming up to tangle into your hair.

“I’m supposed to be letting you.” He whispered back, a gentle reminder more to himself than to you. His grip on your roots tightened ever so slightly as if he was afraid you might actually pull away.

“I don’t want to.” You assured him the way you had over and over again. You would say it a million more times if that meant you got to keep him like this. You would do anything. He let out a frustrated whine, as if the moment was paining him.

“You need to, Sunflower. You deserve so much better than this.” Still he held tightly onto you, hardly giving you the option to move on if you wanted to. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“You can do whatever you want with me, Harry.” You rushed out in response, meaning it in every way it could be taken. You pressed your body further into his, turning your head slightly so that one small movement would bring your lips together. Harry groaned at your words, body betraying him as you felt him harden beneath you. You gasped at the feeling, moving your hips just enough so that you could feel him against you. His hands snapped to your waist, the first sudden movement since this entire exchange began. He held tightly onto your hips, stopping your movements before it could go any further.

“Don’t.” He begged weakly. “I thought I could do it, baby. I really thought I could. I wanted to be your friend.”

You shook your head as slightly as you could.

“We can’t be friends, Harry.”

“No, we can’t.” He agreed, finally. He’d known it all along but was too stubborn to admit it. There was no more denying it.

You felt like you were going to pass out. You were so dizzy, head filled with Harry. You were burning for him…

“I love you.” You whined, knowing what he was suggesting by his admission.

You couldn’t be his friend. You tried and failed. You could barely look at him without your chest caving in in a thousand different ways. You couldn’t talk on the phone without bringing up the past, you couldn’t answer his texts without feeling that familiar tinge of sadness. You were right that night in his living room. Things would never be how they were before.

“I love you, sunflower. So much.”

His voice came out pained and raspy, and so desperate it made your thighs tighten around Harry's body. You needed him, so badly. You would do anything…

“Please kiss me.” You begged him. “Ple-“

His lips were on you before you could continue grovelling for him, his hands pressing your mouth to his by the back of your head. You gasped into his parted lips, your hands instinctively coming up to his face. His lips moved on yours helplessly, with a hunger you knew he’d been dying to satisfy. You both leaned into the other greedily, lips and hands and tongues moving faster and faster as the seconds ticked by. You moved your hips against him, earning a hard exhale out of his nose and a groan from the back of his throat. You sucked up all his little noises, knowing this would be the last time you’d hear them like this.

Harry continued moving against you, this time letting you rock your body slowly against his erection. Shivers flash up your spine, tightness instantly filling your tummy. After a few solid minutes of involuntary movements against him, all while he kissed you like he needed it to breathe, you stopped your hips and forced them to stay in place.

You weren’t going to sleep with him tonight.

Even through the tequila you could think clearly enough to know that that wasn’t a good idea. You wanted him, so so badly you wanted him. But you wanted to be intimate with him more, in a completely different way. You wanted to kiss him forever, just kiss, to hopefully spill out every last ounce of love you had been desperately holding onto for so long now. You wanted to give it all to him until you had none leftover.

Harry’s hands moved back to your hips, pulling you against him to continue your movements until your hands gently rested on his wrists. He caught the signal easily, loosening his grip.

“Just kiss me.” You instructed. He hummed contentedly into your mouth which hadn’t for a second parted from yours. It was a proper goodbye kiss.

“You deserve everything.” Harry spoke against you. “I want to give you everything.”

You wanted to tell him that you already had everything when you had him, but you just nodded against him. His hands came up, gripping your face and rubbing your cheekbones lightly with his thumbs. The more subtle touch made your heart skip a beat, the kiss simmering down to a more sensual and less lustful exchange.

“I’ve never loved anyone like this.”

Why did he have to keep talking? He was only making it worse.

“Never.” He repeated.

“I love you.” You said helplessly, no other words you could possibly say to him in this moment. It was all you could fathom as his taste filled your senses.

“I’m trying so hard.” He mumbled again. You believed him. He said we wanted to get better, whatever that meant, and you knew he was doing his best to do that. “I want to be what you need.”

You are! You are and you have been in a million other lifetimes. Over and over again, you've been everything.

“But I’m just not.” He ended. He slowly pulled his lips away from yours, and you let him. He pulled away just enough to see your face, his gaze haunting. He stroked your face a while longer, as if he was taking it all in. You smiled as best you could.

“So this is it?” You asked him. He knew what you meant, nodding.

“Yeah, sunflower. This is it.”

You swallowed the pain that was radiating out of your chest. You nodded back to him.

“We can’t be friends.” You repeated what you’d said earlier, meaning it in a totally different way now. A single tear slipped down your cheek, which Harry wiped away with the pad of his thumb. He tried to smile.

“No, baby, we can’t.”

“Okay.”

You both knew what you’d just agreed to. You couldn’t be together and you couldn’t be friends. So, from this moment on, you were nothing. You stood, rubbing your palms along the front of your fuzzy pants. You looked into his eyes, finding yourself sympathizing with him for the first time. You didn’t understand it, but he did. He had his reasons, however convoluted they may seem to you. It was hurting him just as desperately as it was hurting you, you could see it in how he looked at you. He had no other choice, and there was nothing left you could say.

“I’m going to go to sleep, but you stay here tonight, okay? You can’t drive anywhere right now.”

You stumbled to the other end of the sectional, grabbing the large fluffy blanket Logan kept there strictly for decoration. Harry accepted it from you, nodding his head in agreement.

“Goodnight.” He said.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

You turned and headed to the stairs, not bothering to wait and see if he would ask you to stay instead. You knew he wouldn’t.

///

Days had gone by with no word from Anders, and it was making you worry. You knew you really hadn’t been friends that long, but you really thought you were close enough to at least stay in contact even if you weren’t staying with him anymore.

You called, you texted, you asked if anyone had heard from him; nothing. You even searched his name on Twitter to see if any paparazzi had seen him out and about lately. At least if he was out with someone else or just going shopping, you knew he was still alive.

Your stomach dropped to your feet, the thought not meant to be literal but striking a nerve with you as soon as it popped up. He was alive right? It was silly to assume something horrible had happened just because you hadn’t heard from him… After all, he didn’t owe you all of his time, and you’d consumed so much of it recently.

You were at the studio all day, from around 9 in the morning until 9 at night just singing and listening and singing again and writing a little and singing even more. You’d left Harry asleep on your couch that morning, not allowing yourself more than a passing glance as you walked past him. You were violently hungover today but you threw yourself into your work so you didn’t have to wonder how late Harry slept in, or if he looked for you upstairs before he left. Your throat had surpassed sore and was just numb at this point, but everyone insisted you keep going and you were honestly on a roll and didn’t mind it much. Logan hung out for most of it, hanging out a lot more these past few weeks now that she was “working” again. She sat and wrote while you sang, and even recorded some parts for the new songs on guitar. It felt like it was only right to include her in some solid way, and she played better than most people you knew.

She left a few hours before you did, telling you she had a “blind date” to go on. That essentially meant she was going to see Rachel, but you both know she couldn’t say that out loud.

You weren’t in the mood to go home alone again. You knew Harry would have already left hours ago, but you knew you’d still feel the traces of him. You selfishly needed a friend right now, a friend like Anders who could provide refuge. That, and the lack of communication from Anders was starting to get under your skin. So without much thought at all you headed towards his house, the route so thoroughly ingrained in your brain now that you were practically on autopilot. You pulled up to his complex, throwing your car in park and jogging into the lobby of his building.

“Or do you just want to buy some more pills?”

Christian’s voice was playing on repeat in your head now that you were actually here. What were you going to do if he didn’t answer? You were so mixed up and emotional lately you honestly couldn’t tell if Christian had made that all up on the spot or if there was actually some truth to it. You tried so desperately to push the thought away, but each day that passed without word from him made that harder and harder to do.

The elevator ride up to his floor took ages, and you couldn’t help running up to his door once the metallic doors in front of you had started to slide open. You knocked a few times, anxiously gnawing on your lip. No answer. You knocked again, pressing your ear to the door to see if you could hear anything but there was no noise coming from inside. You knocked again, harder this time in case he was asleep, but it was no use.

Minutes ticked by and you were starting to get anxious now. You pounded on the door with the side of your first, trying to steady your breathing. You couldn’t stop the image of him, lifeless somewhere in his tiny apartment. Did he have anyone else to check up on him?

“Anders it’s me.” You spoke, loud enough to penetrate the door. “Anders, please open up.”

Nothing.

“Come on..” You whined, shivers moving down your spine, “ Anders seriously. Just tell me you’re okay and I’ll leave.”

You leaned your head against the wood, trying not to cry. Just as you were ready to call through the door again, you heard the elevator at the end of the hall chime open. It was only about twenty feet away, not a far walk to his apartment at all. You snapped your head to the side to watch, and low and behold, there he was. Alive and well.

But he wasn’t alone. He didn’t even notice you standing there, too preoccupied with the girl he was with who was shoving a tongue down his throat. They were sloppily stumbling towards the door, Anders fumbling in his pockets to pull out his key. He finally did, only removing himself from the girl he was with once he was nearly face to face with you. His eyes went wide, his breathing heavy and labored.

“Hey.” He spoke. He closed his mouth, breathing through his nose to hide how out of breath he was. He forced a smile. “What’s up?”

He was alive, but he didn’t look well at all. His eyes were more hollow than they should be, dark rings around both. His bruising had subsided from his injuries, but he still looked… sick. His skin was even paler than usual, his hands shaking at his sides.

You didn’t recognize the girl, she wasn’t a celebrity or anything. It became obvious you’d interrupted some random hookup with some random girl, causing your cheeks to warm with embarrassment. She didn’t look too well, either, but you couldn’t really judge considering you didn’t know her.

“Hey.” You repeated, shifting your eyes between the two of them. The girl tried to take Anders hand in hers, which he shook away. It’s not like he had any reason too, but he seemed embarrassed to have been caught in such an… intimate moment. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

He didn’t get to speak, the girl looking up to meet your eyes before letting out a high pitched squeak.

“Oh my god!! You’re Y/N!!!” She cried out, clutching her hands to her chest. “I love you so much! I can’t believe this!”

You weren’t exactly prepared for this interaction today, but you put on your best smile. You wondered if your eyes were red from the tears you’d just choked down.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You told her, giving her a quick hug. She squeezed you tightly enough to make you choke out a breath before pulling away. “Anders, can we talk? Just for a minute.”

The girl looked at Anders expectantly, not seeming annoyed in the least that they’d been interrupted. She was too enamored with meeting you to seem bothered at all. Anders blinked at you for a second before nodding. He opened the door to his apartment, gesturing for the girl to go inside and asking her to get a beer for him out of the fridge. She skipped away happily, more than willing to do whatever he said. As soon as the door was shut you turned back to him, eyes wide and accusing.

“Anders, what the fuck?” You shouted under your breath, throwing your hands out to the side. “I thought you were dead!”

“I’m fine!” He insisted, his tone not nearly as harsh as yours. “I’m sorry I haven’t answered your messages, I just… I’ve been busy.” He paused blinking hard like there was something in his eyes. “With the album and all.”

“Busy with that, you mean.” You said, pointing towards the girl just inside. “You could’ve at least told me you were okay. I’ve been worried sick about you.”

He stared at you, his eyes so blank it was starting to unsettle you more than you were when you arrived. He wasn’t dead, but he just looked wrong.

“I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” He defended. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Carhart, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Are you on drugs?” You finally asked. His eyes widened, an attempt at a nonchalant smirk forming across his face. It wasn’t like his smile though, it was totally off. It wasn’t genuine at all.

You should’ve asked him this weeks ago. You should’ve asked the night he took you home after the party, before anything had gotten this bad. You should’ve tried to stop it then, because now there was no doubt in your mind what was going on with him.

“What are you talking about?” He laughed, stilling his jittery movements so as to not seem suspicious. You shook your head, sighing deeply.

You leaned forward, taking him by the shoulders so that your face was only a few inches from his. You stared into his eyes which were glued to yours in shock, noticing how his pupils were blown out. Almost his entire iris was turned black, only a small ring of color left.

“You are!” You shouted, pushing him back away from you. “You are on drugs!”

He chuckled nervously again. “I’m definitely not.”

“Don’t even try to lie, Anders. I can literally tell just by looking at you.”

The smile fell from his face, his blank stare chewing away at you. His eyes flashed with something, but you weren’t sure what.

“It’s just the pain meds, Y/N. Relax.”

You shook your head aggressively. “You should’ve been off of those weeks ago, Anders.”

“Well I don’t know what you want me to tell you!” He huffed, throwing his hands up in the air for a second. “There was some, uh, swelling still. So they gave me some more.”

“Bullshit.” You cut through him. “Anders, I’m trying to help you-“

“You know what, Y/N, this really isn’t a good time.” He cut you off, moving past you towards the door. You tried to keep him, putting out an arm to stop him from walking through the door he’d just managed to open. He halted, looking up at you with what was now a clearly upset expression.

“Anders, please?” You asked, softening your voice so that maybe he wouldn’t run off. You weren’t sure what exactly you were asking, but nothing else was coming to mind for you to say. His face softened, too, though his jaw was still tight. “I’m worried and I really just need a friend right now-“

“So you can complain about Harry?” He pushed you. Where did that come from? You sucked in a sharp breath. “You can come over later and mope as much as you want. But not tonight.”

“I’m sorry- what?” You snapped. He never talked to you this way, and that in combination with his altered appearance made you even more afraid. Who was this person?

“I get it that you’re, like, heartbroken and whatever but I can’t do this right now. You can come over and act like- like one of those crazy girls tomorrow.”

You sniffled, feelings genuinely hurt by him. You shook your head.

“I just wanted to see if you’re okay…” You let out a whine. His eyes softened on yours.

“We can talk later, okay? I promise I’m okay.” He said finally. He almost sounded like the real him, a glimmer of sober Anders shining through. You shook your head.

“Could we just talk now? I’m worried about you.”

He blinked hard again, that glimmer suddenly gone.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something.” He said hollowly, easily pushing passed your arm and into his living room. You watched him walk inside, defeated, the girl he was with literally jumping up and down with her arms outstretched to beckon him towards her. He smiled at her, turning to face you as he closed the door.

“I’ll talk to you soon.” He said, shutting the door in your face.

“Bye Y/N!” The girl yelled through the door. The sound of giggling and footsteps faded into the hallway, before eventually falling silent.

///

Fuck that.

You stomped into your bathroom, tired and pissy after that interaction. Your worry for Anders was overshadowed almost completely by your irritation towards him over what he’d said. Your mind was slightly more at ease despite the look of him. Maybe he was just drunk and on pain killers. Now you were just annoyed.

A few months ago he was just a silly kid from Chicago, who giggled every time he spoke and was gentle and soft. You didn’t even know who he was anymore, high off of whatever it was he was taking and bringing random girls home off the street. You knew LA had been hard on him but he was just becoming like everyone else here, mean and vacant and hollow. Maybe you didn’t know him like you thought you did.

On top of everything that had just happened, you couldn’t stop thinking about fucking Christian. He’d weaseled his way into your thoughts and you couldn’t shake him loose. Every time someone at the studio today had congratulated you on the release, you felt the holes in your brains grow wider and deeper and more unavoidable. You couldn’t stop thinking about him kissing you, throwing you against the wall of his house, screaming at you when you pushed him away… You could feel the way you’d turned your head away from him to break yourself free from his mouth on yours. You could still taste the beer. You could still hear Logan screaming, you could feel the banging of her fist on the door in your chest.

Why couldn’t you just let it go? You had barely thought about that night for months now, and you had finally let it go. So why did it have to come back now? Because of the song, that’s why. It wasn’t even a big deal. It was just a kiss. And yet you still felt like he had that same grip on you still. You were still pressed against that wall. You could remember so plainly how scared you were. Why couldn’t it just go away?

You turned on the shower, stepping into the scalding water. Finally being free of the distractions of the day, your mind started to spiral more and more. You tried not to let it, but everything you’d ignored the last few hours was suddenly at the forefront of your mind. You just needed to think of anything other than Christian. You could feel him, everywhere.

Now when you say you wanna slow down

Does that mean you wanna slow dance?

You thought about Harry, about how he’d officially broken your heart in two last night. You’d somehow forgotten that fact all day, at least enough to get by, just now realizing the weight of what happened last night. You leaned your face into the cool tile of the shower wall, the heat of the water scalding your bare back.

Maybe you just want a little extra time to focus

On our romance…

You shampooed your hair with the product that reminded you of him. “Your hair smells so good,” he’d mumbled into your neck so many times before. His hands always felt good on you, he always made you feel safe. You breathed the scent of the shampoo deeply, remembering. You pinched your eyes tight as you rinsed it away.

What do you mean I’ve got it backwards?

You know we’re gonna be forever…

Why are you telling me goodbye?

Aren’t you gonna stay the night?

You wanted to drive to his house, bang on his door until he opened up. You wanted to follow him to his studio or to New York or wherever he was going even if he wouldn’t talk to you just so you could be close to him. You wanted to wait outside his favorite restaurants just in case he showed up. You wanted him to touch you until you couldn’t feel him anymore. Harry always felt safe. He would make you feel safe, you just needed to see him.

Are we really over now?

Maybe I can change your mind.

As soon as you walk out my door,

I’m gonna call a hundred times.

You wanted to call him, to beg him for the hundredth time to forget all of this and just move on. You knew you’d have the same old conversation, the one you’d had a million times already…

Now I walk under a pink sky

Lovers float along and pass me by

I pour my heart out to your voicemail,

Let you know I caught a bus to your side of town.

You replayed last night in your head, remembering how Harry had spun you in circles and held your hands and kissed you like he couldn’t help it. You thought about what he’d said about Christian, about finally letting him go once and for all. So why was he still here? You turned the water hotter to distract yourself.

Now I’m standing on your doorstep

With Los Angeles behind me.

If you don’t answer I’ll just use the key that I copied,

Because I really need to see you…

You wanted to run downstairs and lay on the spot where he’d slept, to see if the couch still smelled like him. You wanted to wrap that throw blanket around your shoulders and pretend it was him until you finally fell asleep. Until you could finally stop thinking about Christian.

If you’re not here when I break in,

I’m gonna go to your closet

Just so I can smell your skin..

You just wanted to feel close to him, one last time… You wanted him to stop these thoughts from circling your mind. “Come on, baby…” Christian hissed through your thoughts. You pushed the voice away, imagining Harry’s hands in place of his. But it was all you could think of…

As the chemicals swim,

I know I’ll never love again.

I swear I’ll never love again….

Maybe you should call him. Maybe he’d had time to think about everything after last night. Maybe he could make the voice stop in your head. “I might even try it again with her now that she’s nice and drunk… all alone with nowhere to go.” Christian continued taunting you.

I’m not one of those crazy girls…

You stepped out of the shower, gasping for air as you exited the stuffiness. It was strangling you. Everything was strangling you. Harry, Logan and Rachel being so in love, Anders and the pain pills, Christian’s voice, Bethany and Tom. You couldn’t take it. “She was basically asking me for it!” Christian snapped in the back of your mind.

Baby are we over now?

Maybe I can change your mind…

As soon as walk out my door

I’m gonna call a hundred times….

You just needed to see Harry. You just needed him to tell you it was okay. You just needed to see him…

You felt like you were actually losing your mind. Your thoughts were swimming between heartbreak and disgust and lust and fear. Between Harry and Christian.

“What kind of person does that? What kind of person forces themselves on someone like that?” It was Harry’s voice this time, his voice you’d heard through the wall at the Halloween party. “Do you have any idea what that was like for her?”

You pressed a hand to your chest, realizing you were hyperventilating. Stop thinking about Christian. It wasn’t even a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just a kiss. But then why was everyone talking about it like it was? Your mind wandered back to the statement you’d approved for the label, the one Bethany had just recently thrown in your face.

“..this was not an incident of a romantic falling out, domestic dispute, or so called “lover’s quarrel”.

Stop it. You gripped the edge of the counter, gasping desperately for each breath.

“…the advances made on Y/N the night of the incident by Mr. Turner were inappropriate, unwarranted, and unjustifiable.”

Stop it. You looked up in the mirror, seeing your eyes wide and body totally exposed. Your stomach lurched, picturing Christian gripping your sides. You crossed your arms over your body to make the feeling go away.

“..what can only be described as an attack on our client…”

“We ask that you keep in mind that assault is not entertaining.”

No. Stop it. Stop it. You groaned, wrapping a towel around under your arms so you didn’t have to look at yourself anymore.

“Assault”. They called it an assault.

You wired your eyes shut. No. It was nothing.

“Assault”.

No.

“Assault”.

You just wanted to see Harry. It was stupid and embarrassing but you needed him right now. You needed him to make it stop. You needed it to all stop.

You wondered if he would turn you away if you just showed up at his house. Maybe just a glimpse of his face and you’d feel better. You’d just look in through the windows if it meant this would stop. You just needed to see him. But he didn’t want you. The reminder stung you all over.

Anders was right, you were one of those crazy girls. You wanted to act cool and like it didn’t hurt and just let him go. You wanted to snip the string that tied him to you with scissors and never look back. But that yarn was tightly wound around your throat so tightly you could hardly breathe. You wished you didn’t need him right now but you did.

You were crazy. Anders was right. Whether or not what he said about the pills was true, even if he was high out of his mind, he was right.

Now I’m one of those crazy girls…

Now I’m one of those

Crazy

Girls….

You dressed yourself in the same fuzzy pants as last night, hoping the fabric still carried the sting of Harry’s fingers. You raced to your bedroom, grabbing the little notebook in the bedside table, and scribbled out a song with frustrated tears in your eyes.

Just think about Harry, you told yourself, even if it hurts. It’s better than this. Harry is safe. He’s safe. Just think about Harry.

///

Feeling slightly relieved after venting into the paper, you heard Logan and Rachel come in downstairs. They were chirping together happily, two little birds singing their little bird song together.

Desperately not wanting to be alone any longer with your thoughts, you trotted down the stairs toward the noise. They had made it into the kitchen, Logan always desperate for snacks after a night out. They both turned to watch you come down, smiling sweetly to welcome you into the tail end of their date. Logan leaned onto the counter, noticing something.

You got closer, seeing she was inspecting a half empty bottle of tequila held delicately by the neck. She looked back over at you.

“What’s this?” She asked. Next to the bottle was a package of Oreos and a folded piece of paper. It was the same off yellow as the notebook you scribbled lyrics into, the notebook that only Harry knew you kept tucked away in the bottom drawer of your night stand.

“What do you write in there?” He’d asked one morning.

“Songs.” You told him honestly, flipping the book shut. He smiled at you, pulling back down to lay against his bare chest.

“Why won’t you sing them for me?”

You could feel his voice rattling against your cheek, pressed right against his sternum.

“I will one day.”

You walked up to her, picking up the piece of paper before she had the chance.

“Harry came over last night to celebrate the new song.” You explained without making eye contact, your gaze too distracted but the folded paper you turned over in your hands. On one side was a sloppily drawn flower, a sunflower. His way of addressing the note to you.

“Oh. That’s nice.” Logan said, throwing a sideways glance at Rachel. “How did that go?”

She sounded apprehensive, as if carefully diffusing a bomb with her words. You traced over the drawing with a finger, shrugging your shoulders.

“We broke up.” You told her, tracing one petal and then another.

“Again?” Logan questioned. You couldn’t help but laugh. “How many times is he gonna dump your ass?”

“Until I listen.” You answered easily. You flipped the note one more time, a few scribbled words on the inside bleeding through the paper. You could feel indents from the words inside.

Logan and Rachel didn’t say much else, Rachel giving you a soft grip on the shoulder before they started telling you about their “blind date”. She smelled like lavender, like always. You kept the note in a tight fist until the paper was warm and damp, listening carefully as they spoke. They were so obsessed with each other, it made your chest spark with happiness. You were happy for your best friend, but sad that she couldn’t share her happiness with the world. More than anything, though, you were jealous.

Just don’t think about Christian.

You hung out with them a few extra hours, note still tucked in your fist. When they finally retired for the night you stayed on the couch, wrapping yourself in the same throw blanket from last night, in the same spot Harry slept. You pressed your face into the cushion where his head rested just this morning.

You unfolded the paper, finally, fingers shaking just a bit. It was only a few sentences, Harry’s familiar scratchy capital letters across the page.

Congratulations on the song. My love my love my love… I can’t wait to hear the rest.

Save the tequila for your next special occasion.

The Oreos you can eat whenever. :)

Yours,

P.S.

Greatest FUCK YOU of all time!!!! x

You closed your eyes, pressing the very last piece of Harry you had to your chest. You cried, the slow silent kind of tears that came from an ache rather than any kind of sharp pain. Maybe if you kept it pressed against you, you thought, it would save you from thinking about Christian. You focused on the way it felt against your fingers, brushing the tips over the texture of his words. Eventually the thoughts of Christian subsided and you were strangely at peace. All you could think of was him, digging through the drawer of your nightstand, back hunched over and brows tucked in concentration. And that somehow made it stop. It was like Harry’s final attempt to comfort you.

Who knew Harry’s final goodbye would feel this good?

KEEP READING BESTIES!!!

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