( @toomxnymuses )
Harry rubbed at his face as he looked in the mirror that adorned the wall of his dressing room. Night two of his first ever solo tour, and although the nerves weren’t as high as the night before, there was still a subtle weight that laid on his chest. He only turned his head slightly to the side when Camille, his current girlfriend, slid up behind him and ran her hands down his chest. His eyes closed in the process, maybe making it look like the action somehow calmed him, but all he could do was see her, the one that got away. It was always her that he saw when he closed his eyes, when he tried to write anything, when he sang. She haunted him like a ghost, and he knew from the moment she walked into his life, what he’d never be the same. “Is it that time?” He asked with a rasp from being silent too long, the sound of his own voice making him blink back into reality until Camille was nodding in response. He didn’t even want to think about how many times the blonde had told him that she loved him at this point, and how many times he had said it back out of obligation. It wasn’t like him to so blatantly break a heart like this, but he was empty, and Camille was the first person to come along and make him feel a little less numb. He’d be fine once he got on stage - he always was, but he’d still end up thinking about Avery.
