Breathe

Whoever came up with the idea of throwing a CEO’s & Hoe’s themed frat party was either a genius or a terrible misogynist because what ended up happening at the party was something I found quite hilarious. Instead of most girls showing up in short, little skirts with busty dress shirts on top that were unbuttoned to reveal a killer rack, they showed up in actual pantsuits and dressed as the CEO rather than the “hoe”. It was nice, really, because everyone added their own touch to it by wearing a bright color or giving it a sexy twist or having it form fitted to show off their curves.

Harry and I did something similar and switched up the roles. I wore a bright, royal blue pantsuit, albeit without a dress shirt underneath (or a bra), and Harry came as my geeky assistant. His outfit consisted of a crisp white shirt, a pair of deep brown slacks, a brown sweater vest and a matching tie. Liv also helped Harry style his hair by slicking it back with wax and parting it on the side in a simple quiff. However, what really completed the outfit were the nerdy glasses Harry wore. They had tape wrapped in the middle to hold it together, giving them that extra touch. I thought it was more cute than it was dorky, which made no sense whatsoever. Leave it to Harry fucking Styles to make geek look sexy. I was a little bitter that he had that sort of ability, but also extremely happy because he was all mine.

The best part was that Dylan came wearing a full on black tuxedo with a magenta bow tie. Her curly caramel colored locks flowed freely, giving her that feminine touch along with the bright red lipstick she had on, so it balanced out. While it wouldn’t work on most, it worked on her because she was just that gorgeous and completely versatile.  

“You look like you’re getting married,” Liv laughed, her face bright and flushed, probably from the three shots she’d just downed.

Dylan shrugged, fixing up her bow tie and pulling at the ends. “Classy is what I look like. I’m digging this, guys,” she said to us, gesturing to the pantsuits. “I feel like we’re making a fucking statement.”

“Classy for a wedding,” Liv responded.

“I’ll marry you if you shut up,” Dylan said, flashing her a charming smile.

Liv positively preened at the comment, but also rolled her eyes to prove her nonchalance, trying to show that it wasn’t affecting her in any way. I knew it did just by looking at her, but whether or not Dylan did, too, proved to still be a mystery. It wasn’t out of the ordinary or surprising to see the two of them flirt as openly as they did now that Liv was no longer with Aiden (those two had an amicable split and still chatted from time to time). In fact, it was quite a common occurrence to witness Liv and Dylan flirt, almost nauseatingly so. It seemed they’d crossed some barrier from friendship to possibly something more. It was too early to tell.

Still, all that mattered to me was that Liv was happy and finally starting to be her usual upbeat self again after our talk at my birthday party. We hadn’t brought it up much since then, but she’d casually let slip certain things Dylan did that made her feel butterflies in her stomach or had her blushing red.

While Liv and Dylan flirted shamelessly, I let my eyes wander a bit, looking around the room we were in. Ed and Niall were off having a dance battle to a Ke$ha song. Zoe and Layla were taking selfies. Zayn, Liam, and Louis were sharing a spliff while laughing about something or another. The only person missing was Harry.

I frowned curiously, turning away from Liv and Dylan to look over into the next room. I couldn’t spot him at first, but then as a few people shuffled out of view, I noticed him. Harry was standing with a few guys in the frat, but he was talking to a girl instead of them. I couldn’t recognize her, but from the looks of it, it seemed she knew Harry well. Whatever she was saying had Harry smiling, dimpled and relaxed as though they spoke often. I knew Harry talked to a lot of girls, so it didn’t bother me because it didn’t mean anything, but then I saw her hand casually stroke over his arm. My frown deepened after that when she flicked her fingers out to feel his hair, stroking through it.

I wasn’t oblivious nor was I born yesterday. When a girl was flirting, I could tell very well because I did the same things, too. Casual touches, but letting your hands linger a bit longer than necessary. Making the object of your affection smile while also laughing at everything they said. Standing close and talking in whispers as though you didn’t want anyone else hearing what you were talking about. I knew the whole spiel. Whoever this girl was -- she was bringing out the big guns and flirting with my boyfriend.

Those ugly feelings of jealousy unfurled in my stomach, making me feel possessive and bitter. I almost felt like walking over to Harry and pissing around him to mark or claim my territory. Of course, I wasn’t actually going to do that, but in my head I sure fucking was. Instead, I waited until that girl walked away -- after giving him a hug, no less -- and charged over to Harry. He only got a moment to register it all before I was pulling him down by the back of his neck to join our mouths together.

The kiss was bruising and hard, but good. So fucking good like every single one of my kisses with Harry were. His lips always tasted sweet and felt soft. I couldn’t help but suck on Harry’s plump bottom lip, biting down on it teasingly. Harry didn’t really question my sudden urge to make out in the middle of a crowded room at a party, which I was thankful for because all I wanted was to just do this -- remind him and mostly myself that he was still my boyfriend and no matter how many girls flirted with him -- that fact didn’t change.

Instead, Harry pulled the two of us back towards the wall and away from the middle of the room where we were blocking the way for others. One of his hands rested on my upper back, holding me up properly while his other hand, naturally, went down to grip my bum. I would never understand his obsession with grabbing my arse while we made out, but I wouldn’t ever complain either because it turned me the fuck on.

“What’s up?” Harry managed to finally ask as I nipped at his bottom lip.

“Just wanted you,” I replied. “Is that alright?”

“‘Course, baby,” he said, slotting our lips together again. “Want you all the time, did you know?”

I giggled softly as he trailed kisses down to my jaw, tickling me in the process. “I wasn’t aware, but you could always let me know. It’s cool.”

“If I did that, I’d be fucking you all the time. Fucking you into the next century, practically.”

Harry’d just pressed his lips against mine again, but I sputtered out a laugh while panting heavily from the kissing. “Yeah, well, that’s alright with me, I guess. Not like I’m in this for anything else other than your big dick.”

Harry looked appalled, his frown deep and lips parted in shock. “Heeeeey,” he drawled out in an affronted tone. “That’s not nice. I mean -- it’s nice -- but come on. Give a man more credit than his family jewels.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Family jewels? Have you been picking up vocabulary from Niall again?”

“Don’t change the subject,” he warned me. “I feel objectified, really.”

“You know I’m joking,” I said, looking up at him through my lashes. “You’re the best. Prettiest, smartest, funniest, nicest, loveliest boyfriend ever. Extremely hot, too.”

The words I love you were at the tip of my tongue -- again. I wanted to say it to him as easily as he said it to me, but something stopped me. Did I want my first time admitting I loved him back to be in the middle of a party where drunk people were dancing around us and we were several drinks in ourselves? Not really, no. I wanted it to be in the perfect setting where we were both alone, away from all of this, and there wasn’t a smudge of space between our bodies. I wanted it to be special, as cheesy as that was. Harry deserved it. He’d been patient with me and I was going to give it to him in the best way possible.

“Now you’re just flattering me,” Harry preened in response to my compliments, swatting at my bum before gripping it in his palms.

“‘M only being honest. I’m quite digging the nerd look. Different than your usual James Dean get up.”

“James Dean get up. You're funny,” he said with an amused tone before fixing me with a hooded gaze. His eyes were dark, clouded with lust as he pulled me close again. “C’mere. Kiss me.” I easily complied, his lips claiming mine in a heated snog once again.



“All I’m saying is that Liam really shouldn’t be that angry with me,” Louis said, his tone matter of fact. “I mean, yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have drawn penises on his face with a Sharpie the day before an important meeting with his Dean about what he’s going to do after graduating, but I was drunk. I can’t be held accountable for what I do when I’m drunk.”

I looked at Louis with a small frown on my face wondering if he was hearing himself. It was quite amusing, but also a little insane that he wasn’t seeing the point. “You’re honestly trying to justify what you did,” I said to him as we walked through campus together. It was a warm, Spring day and everyone was out wearing shorts and tank tops, sunbathing on Queen’s Lawn in between classes. I myself was donning shorts and a crop top to relish in the warm weather that seemed impossible a few months ago with all the cold and snow. “Like, Liam has a giant penis with cum flying out of it drawn on his face and he’s meeting his Dean. This literally makes him look like an imbecile. Doesn’t make your frat look too good, either.”

“He was drunk, too,” Louis argued insistently. “Maybe he shouldn’t have drank that much last night and blacked out to the point where he couldn’t even tell I was drawing on him. Not my fault. Besides, how was I supposed to know he was meeting his Dean today?”

“You live with him. He’s your roommate.”

Louis paused for a moment before speaking again. “Like I said. How was I supposed to know? Besides, maybe they’re laughing about it right now. Engineers aren’t too uptight, right? Not like Med students, at least.”

I shook my head, laughing at Louis disapprovingly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“One of my many talents,” Louis piped up before turning to look at me as we approached the Law building. “What time are Liv and Harry done again?”

“Think they’re just about done,” I replied, checking the time on my phone before walking up the steps to go inside. Louis and I were on our way to pick Harry and Liv up from their lecture to go for lunch, but may have been early. I’d been in lectures myself all day and was finally done, ready to relax and hang out with my mates. With school coming to a close, the course workload was rather large and exhausting, but senioritis had hit me hard and I didn’t feel like doing any work at all.

The two of us walked down the hall towards the room number that Liv had texted me, only to find that they were already done. Liv and Dylan were standing on the side, distracted in their own bubble that they’d formed around themselves, like they did so often. And Harry was off on the other side talking to -- I frowned -- that girl from the party. The one who had been flirting with him. The situation and scene this time around was just as similar. Harry was smiling at whatever it was she was saying, while she giggled at something he responded with. Her hand was carefully holding onto his arm around the elbow. From his expression, I could tell he was slightly tensed up from where her hand was resting on him, but was trying not to let it on.

“Oh, they’re done,” Louis realized, walking over to Liv and Dylan while I stayed where I was and continued to watch Harry and the girl as discreetly as I could. She’d finally removed her hand to pull her phone out of her bag and gestured for him to do the same. They then exchanged numbers before saying goodbye. When Harry straightened up and looked around, finally noticing me, his smile brightened up and he walked over.

One of his hands wove around my waist to bring me closer for what I assumed was a kiss, but then he stilled, pausing only to flip his snapback so that the lid was facing backwards before swooping in to press his lips with mine. “Hey, you,” he mumbled, dipping his tongue in my mouth before drawing back to look at me. “Ready to go?”

I nodded with a small, tight lipped smile. “Yeah -- uh, who was that you were talking to?” I asked him as casually as I could.

Harry looked over to the spot where he and that girl were standing before, as if he had to jog his memory back because he was distracted by something else now. “Oh, that. Yeah, she’s in my lectures. Comes to the parties over at the frat house, too. She was asking me about the assignment we’d been given today.”

“Oh,” I hummed, trying to calm myself down even though every inch of me was simmering with jealousy and anger. “What’s her name?”

“Stella,” Harry responded. “Known her for a while. She was in my lectures before, too, but we only started talking this year.”

“She asked for your number?”

Harry nodded, once again having to pause and think back. “Yeah, to help her with the assignment.” He eyed me warily for a moment, just about to say something more when Liv and Louis ambled over with Dylan in tow.

“I’m crashing your lunch date,” Dylan announced, leading the way with the other two following her. “We’re going for Thai food, ladies and boys.”

Harry nodded his head, turning to look at me once before following them. He flipped his snapback again, grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together, leading me out with him. 



The following night, Harry and I found ourselves sat on my balcony, the sun setting softly in front of us in shades of pinks and oranges. We’d made dinner after Liv left with a bag in tow to sleep over at Dylan’s, leaving the entire flat to us. And while my cooking abilities were very limited to about a handful of dishes, Harry, on the other hand, was a proper chef. He loved experimenting and trying new things, often cooking most of the meals for the boys and himself. Tonight, the two of us attempted making beef wellington and it took forever, most likely because it was our first time. It was fun, though. While we cooked, Harry and I kissed against counter tops and laughed and talked about random things, like which one of our friends was going to get married first, who would knock up who first, and whether or not Liam becoming friends with his Dean after the penis incident made Louis an actual genius or still a fucking moron.

Once the food was done, we took our plates out to the balcony and dug in. It was rather good for a first try and we were both appeased and content. After dinner was finished, we set aside our plates and Harry pulled me on to his lap, kissing me soundly. It was slow and neither of us were really expecting it to lead anywhere yet, but that didn’t stop Harry from whispering suggestive things into my ear, anyway. Stuff like, we should totally have sex out here, B, imagine how hot that would be -- anyone could hear or see.

Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t an exhibitionist and all he was going to get was a heated snog. Not that it wasn’t enough because we were both smiling and happy with the pace of it all. However, as sweet and easy as it all was, my mind still hadn’t drifted too far from Stella and her continuous efforts at flirting and talking with Harry. It wasn’t that Harry wasn’t allowed to talk to other girls or make friends with them. I would never stop him from that. But I was sure Stella knew he was taken -- everyone who knew us knew that -- and for some reason that wasn’t enough for her to stop flirting with him.  

The insecurity that I’d felt about Harry’s reputation, all the girls that surrounded him and just everything that came with being in a relationship with him, seemed to come to head since yesterday. And I’d always been able to push it down and ignore it before, but not anymore. There was a part of me that wanted to charge up to any girl who was talking about or to my boyfriend in that manner and tell them off, but another part of me also knew that as long as they weren’t actually doing anything, I couldn’t. I’d look crazy and out of my mind ridiculous if I did something like that.

My insecurity didn’t have anything to do with my own personal confidence, though, because it was different. Over the past few years, I’d managed to hold myself with poise and not let boys make me look like a fool anymore as they had done several times before. It was a personal promise to myself and I’d managed to keep it. That was until Harry came along. I am in love with Harry in a way I’d never been in love before. He could potentially take me higher than anyone before or break me harder than anyone before. I didn’t necessarily think he’d cheat on me or anything, but it didn’t settle well with me knowing that Stella was out there on the fucking prowl. Couldn’t she have found another guy who wasn’t Harry -- who was actually single and not taken? I knew plenty of single guys in the frat. I would literally personally matchmake her with any other guy as long as she stayed away from Harry.

I drew back from Harry, our lips slick and pink, and placed my hands on his shoulders to hold him back because he was trying to chase my lips for another kiss. He looked up at me, pupils blown and confused. “What’s up?” he asked, stroking my hair.

“Can we talk?” I asked him softly.

Harry’s frown deepened curiously and he nodded. “Sure. What’s going on?”

“I just -- I wanted to say that -- like, you know I trust you, right?” I stammered unsure of how to even begin.

Harry nodded earnestly. “Of course,” he smiled easily. “What’s this about?”

“If I told you to stop talking to Stella, would you?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed in further confusion as he stared at me. He fish-mouthed for a moment, as though he was trying to make sense of my request and give a proper response before finally saying something. “Stella? Is this about her? Did she say something to you?”

“She didn’t say anything to me,” I shook my head. “I’ve never spoken to her. I just don’t want you to talk to her. Delete her number from your phone -- fuck, I don’t know. Just don’t talk to her, please.”

“Blair, calm down,” he said softly and I’d realized that I was sounding like I was on the verge of hyperventilating. It was scary, though, because now that I was finally saying something about it, I didn’t know if I could hold myself back anymore. Harry looked at me, concern etched on his features. “As much as I’d like to listen to you and respect your wishes, I don’t know if I can do that.”

I frowned at him then, my brows furrowed and confused. Why? Why couldn’t he stop talking to a girl who he said he barely knew even after knowing that it was bothering me? It wasn’t like she was important. She didn’t have to mean anything. Harry noticed my blatant, confused reaction and quickly continued.

“Babe, listen to me. I can ignore her, it’s fine with me. I won’t talk to her if that’s what you want, but what if she talks to me? What if she approaches me and I can’t get out of it. I’m not saying I’ll be her new best mate or anything, but I can’t promise that there won’t come a time where I’ll have to actually talk to her again.”

Sudden white, hot anger washed over me mixed in with desperate hurt. I huffed, climbing off of Harry’s lap and standing up on my feet. I didn’t quite feel like having this conversation sat so close with him when he wasn’t fucking listening to a word I was saying. Fuck his logic and his stupid dedication to being polite and nice to everyone who came up to him. “I’m not fucking asking for a lot, Harry. It’s one girl. I’m only asking you to stop talking to this one girl and you can’t even say that you will.”

With that, I stormed out of the balcony, our empty plates in hand, and walked into the kitchen where I dumped them in the sink to wash later. Harry followed me, naturally, his body language tense because this was it. We were actually having our first fight. When we used to be just friends, we’d had squabbles here and then, but this was an actual fight. Over a completely irrelevant person at that. I could feel myself getting angrier and more frustrated with each passing second at this whole situation, but mostly at Harry for not understanding where I was coming from and how much it bothered me.

“I’m honestly wondering what the fuck Stella even did for you to be so bent out of shape about this,” Harry started, his arms cross across his chest. “You said you didn’t talk to her, but you seem to really dislike her.”

“She was flirting with you,” I admitted. “I’ve seen her do it at parties and then yesterday outside your class. She likes you Harry. I can tell and that’s why I don’t want you to talk to her.”

Harry fish-mouthed again, his expression changing from confused to mere surprise, as though he didn’t expect me to say that. His arms fell down at his sides and he moved closer to me. “She was flirting with me?” he asked. “Blair, I don’t care. I didn’t even realize she was flirting with me.”

“You’re not stupid, Harry. Anyone with eyes could tell. I know you know when girls flirt with you.”

“Okay, but did you not hear the part where I said I don’t care? I don’t care about any other girl except you. You shouldn’t be scared of them flirting with me or me talking to them because it won’t matter to me at the end of the day.”

I watched him quietly, his green eyes searching mine with a deeply concerned glaze. Harry’s words were comforting because I believed him wholeheartedly. I knew he cared about me and that he loved me, however, it still wasn’t enough. I’d pushed down my jealousy and my insecurity regarding Harry and other girls for so long -- long before we were together, even -- and it just wasn’t going to make it go away by him saying these things to me. I needed him to give me his word and not speak to her anymore, for my sake.

“Blair,” he prompted quietly when I wasn’t responding, his hand coming to rest on my waist gently. “Say something. I don’t want you upset, baby.”

I finally turned to look at him and shook my head slowly. “That’s not good enough. I don’t want you to talk to her and that’s it. I don’t care if I sound ridiculous, controlling or neurotic right now -- trust me, I don’t -- but I can’t handle her flirting with you when you’re with me.”

“That’s the thing, though,” Harry said fiercely, his voice rising as he got more frustrated. “I’m with you and you can’t seem to get that bit. I’m with you completely. I’m your boyfriend, but you’re concerned about some random girl talking to me.”

“If she’s some random girl, then why can’t you just fucking stop talking to her?”

“I told you that I’ll try,” Harry practically shouted, making me stumble back in surprise despite his hand holding on to me. “If she comes up to me and talks to me then I can’t tell her to just fuck off because you said so. That’s not me, ok? What I don’t get is why you can’t trust me.”

“I do trust you,” I cried, pushing away from him. “I fucking trust you a lot. That’s the first thing I told you when I started this conversation.”

“It doesn’t sound like you trust me when you’re telling me to stay away from a girl who I keep telling you means absolutely nothing.”

“That’s the thing. It’s those girls I don’t trust, Harry. And you know what? Fuck it,” I laughed humorlessly, throwing my hands up in the air before letting them drop uselessly to my sides. “Fuck that I said anything because even if you don’t ignore her, another girl will probably flirt with you and then another one and another one. I bet a ton of girls flirt with you when I’m not around. So, fuck that I ever said anything because in the end I can’t stop it.” My face crumpled at the realization that I had absolutely no control over any of this. I was half laughing and half on the verge of breaking down into hysterical tears.

Harry looked bewildered, his eyes wide and frantic as he closed the distance between us again. “What’s going on with you?” he asked me, his voice concerned and soft now. “Why are you acting this way? Don’t you get it? I don’t give a fuck about those girls. I care about you, only you.”

“They’re still there, Harry,” I whispered, trying to ignore how my eyes were watering and stinging with tears. “It won’t matter how much I trust you because I can’t trust them. Not when you’ve fucked half the girls at this Uni and I don’t matter.”

That seemed to be the last straw for Harry and he looked absolutely furious. “You don’t matter?” he asked, stepping away from me to fix me with an angry look. “When have I ever given you a reason to think that you don’t matter when all I do ever is care about you? I told you I love you. I spend all my time with you. I’ve repeatedly told you tonight that those girls don’t matter to me and that I’m with you, but then you throw the fact that I slept around in my face in an ugly way just to justify your point.”

“It’s not like I’m making it up,” I said to him in a sardonic tone.

“Yeah, well who suggested I sleep around in the first place?” he asked me, eyes narrowed and burning dark, as though he was challenging me. I froze, my lips parting in surprise. Harry chuckled grimly. “Didn’t think of that, did you? That doesn’t matter, though, cause you’ve clearly lost your fucking mind tonight. I can’t fucking believe you’d throw that in my face.”

“Well, I can’t fucking believe you’d throw the fact that I told you to hook up with girls in my face,” I retorted.

“It’s not like I’m making it up,” he said, repeating my words from before in the same mocking tone. “That was fucking low and even you have to admit it. I didn’t expect you of all people to say that to me when I’ve done literally nothing.”

Harry pushed past me then, walking out of the kitchen and this time I followed him. “Where are you going?” I asked, watching as he grabbed his wallet and phone off the table.

“Leaving,” he said.

“Oh, wow, so you’re just going to fucking walk out?”

“I wasn’t going to fucking walk out at first. I was going to work this out with you,” he said, turning to face me. “But I decided to leave once you accused me of fucking half the girls at this Uni. Honestly Blair, I just don’t -- fuck it. I’ve had enough.” Harry charged past me, slipping into his boots by the front door and slamming it on the way out.

I gritted my teeth in anger, standing there in a now empty apartment that suddenly felt too quiet after all the fighting. I felt like I was on the verge of screaming out loud from all the frustration that had built up. What gave Harry the right to just walk out on me in the middle of an argument? That was hardly the way to handle the situation because it only made him look like a coward for running away. If this was how it was going to be whenever we fought, then fuck him.

I wished more than anything right then that Liv was there because I was so close to crumbling to the floor and crying, even if that meant she’d have had to witness me and Harry get into that fight. The thing was, I hated crying. My eyes started tearing up during the fight, but I held myself back because I didn’t like the feeling that came with it. I felt weak and vulnerable, so I always avoided doing it and tried to control myself. However, I wasn’t so sure I could hold myself back tonight if I had to sit in an empty apartment with that fight playing back on a loop in my head.

And fuck that, really. I refused to sit at home and cry when Harry was the one who walked out. When he was the one who was going to stay the night with me, but he fucking walked out.

I felt like I had to get out of there, too. I had to get away just like Harry so I wouldn’t cry and feel bad when I hadn’t done anything. I quickly walked to my room to grab my phone and dialed the first person I could think of.

Layla picked up on the third ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Are you at school?” I asked her, getting right to the point.

Layla paused for a moment, obviously taken aback by my tone. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Can I come and stay the night, please?” I begged. “I’ll explain once I get there, but I need to get out of here.”

“Yeah, sure. Come on over,” she replied right away.

“Thank you,” I breathed out in relief. I ended the call, pocketing my phone before grabbing my purse with my wallet and left the flat. It was drizzling outside, which was odd because the weather had been perfect when Harry and I were sat on the balcony. I quickly hailed a taxi and got in, asking him to take me to London Met. Once I’d arrived, I tried to remember where Layla’s dorm was since I’d only been there a handful of times and was relieved when I found it on the first try because I was sure that I’d forgotten and would have had to ask around.

Layla was waiting for me at the lobby of her dorm, standing there in her soft pink pyjamas and looking rather nervous. “Hey,” I said, once I’d walked in.

“Hi,” she said meeting me halfway. “Everything alright?”

I almost nodded, but then quickly shook my head. “No, no, it’s not,” I replied before pulling her into a desperate hug where I clung onto her, willing myself to not cry. “Harry and I had a fight and he just walked out.”

“Shit,” she said, her voice soft and earnest. “I’m so sorry, Blair. What did you fight about? What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” I said, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. “You said you didn’t mind if I stayed the night, right?”

Layla shook her head. “No, of course not. I’ve got room for you. A few of my suitemates aren’t in.”

“Thank you.”

Layla smiled softly and gave me another hug before leading me upstairs. Her suite housed about six girls, but only two of them were in. The one who often masturbated despite having other girls sleeping in the same room as her was doing as much while the other one was sleeping. Layla took me to the kitchen where I told her everything that had happened while she prepared us hot cocoa. Once I was done, I looked to Layla, waiting for her verdict and thoughts.

“Do you want the truth or do you need to be coddled right now?” she asked resolutely.

“The truth.”

Layla gave me a small smile before speaking. “I agree that Harry walking out was shitty, but what you said to him was sort of fucked up. I think that’s where you’re at fault. Other than that, I completely get you. He not only walked out on you in the middle of an argument, but he also won’t give his word that he’ll stop talking to this nobody. If a girl was flirting with Niall, I’d kill her. And I’d expect him to stay the fuck away from her. I think Harry should do as much for you.”

The diplomatic way of what Layla said grounded me, making me realize that she was right. “I guess I shouldn’t have said what I did. It just sort of came out...like, I couldn’t hold myself back. And I didn’t mean it the way it came out, either. I just meant he has hooked up with a lot of girls and they’re always going to be there and that bothered me a lot. Not that I’m judging him or pointing fingers at his character because I know I was the one who gave him the idea to go for it. It’s a fucking mess.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s good that you realize where you were wrong, but I’m mad that he wouldn’t listen to you. Also that he just walked out. That’s not done.”

“We’d never had a fight before -- not like this and I’m scared.”

“What are you scared about?”

I shrugged, feeling the sting in my eyes again. It went without saying that I was wondering whether or not Harry and I were going to make it. I was so afraid of that because I did love Harry. I wanted this to work and I was concerned if he was going to come back and say that we weren’t going to work out. That would break my heart. I didn’t know if I could handle that.

“Blair,” Layla said, squeezing my hand to make me meet her eyes. “You two will be fine. If there is anything I’ve been sure about from the start it’s that you two have something special. Seeing you two together and how in love you are, I know for a fact that you’ll make it. This is just a small fight and it’ll blow over. I promise. It’s shitty that he walked out and made you doubt your relationship.”

“I don’t blame him anymore,” I said, feeling myself starting to sober up from all the anger. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I should have worded it differently. Now, I don’t know what to do.”

“What’s done is done. He should have given you a moment to explain yourself. Anyways, let’s just go to bed and you can wake up and talk to him if he’s up for it. Thinking about it now when your emotions are at an all time high won’t solve things.”

“Okay,” I agreed, even though I knew sleep was going to be fitful and restless tonight. I headed to the bathroom while Layla set up the bed beside hers for me. When I came back, she looked up from her phone on her bed.

“Got a text from Niall,” she said. “Apparently, Harry came home and they went to the bar and got sloshed. He’s a mess.”

I slowly got into bed, not really knowing how to react to that. Was it good that he was upset and wanted to get drunk or was it gross that he was at the bar, possibly socializing and having fun while I was on the verge of a breakdown? I hadn’t checked my phone since I left my flat, though, and wondered if Harry tried to reach me. I grabbed my purse, pulling it out to find tons of texts from Harry.



After that it became less and less coherent as to what he was saying. “He texted me,” I told Layla. “Should I say something?”

Layla shook her head. “Don’t bother right now. Niall will take care of him for tonight. Make him suffer a bit more for being a dickwad and then tomorrow ask to talk like proper adults.”

“We are hardly proper adults,” I sighed sadly as I put my phone down and got comfortable, though it was weird being in some other girl’s bed. “We’re just trying to be. Pretending to be, more like. We are all horrible adults. We’re like kids, but in adult clothing.”

“You’re making no sense, Blair,” Layla laughed. “Go to sleep. I promise you’ll feel better once you get some rest.”

I willed my eyes to close and ignored the vibrations that came from my phone signaling new texts. It felt weirdly quiet after that. The only sounds other than my phone came from Layla’s soft snoring and the girl who was masturbating. Eventually she stopped, too, and as I drifted off to sleep myself, exhausted from everything that had happened that night, my last thoughts circled around whether or not Harry was okay and whether or not we’d be okay.



I woke up to soft whispers and a gentle prodding at my shoulder. When I opened my eyes, Layla was staring down at me. I blinked blearily, feeling like I’d only just shut my eyes one minute ago before being woken up.

“Whassat?” I mumbled.

“I’m so sorry to wake you,” Layla said. “I’ve got to get to class and I wanted to let you know before I left so you didn’t wake up to an empty dorm room.”

“It’s okay,” I replied, sitting up and rubbing at my eyes. I felt disoriented and the more I woke up, the more of last night’s memory came flooding back to me in horrible waves. “God, what time is it?”

“It’s about nine in the morning,” Layla replied, grabbing her bag and books. “Will you be alright?”

“I think so, yeah. I might leave. Got classes of my own.” I picked up my phone to find that I had a flood of new messages from Harry as well as phone calls and voicemails. Fuck. They didn’t stop until about two hours ago. I felt horrible and guilty all of a sudden, wondering if he was okay or not. I’d literally gone to sleep worrying about him and woke up being twice as concerned. I had to see him right away and know he was okay, otherwise I’d probably go insane.

“You okay?” Layla asked, noticing my sudden change of demeanor.

“I think so,” I mumbled back. “I just. I think I need to go.”

“Okay, sure. Just grab your things then. I’ll be down in the lobby.” I quickly nodded and jumped out of bed, eager to get to Harry as soon as possible.



The taxi ride back to my flat was grueling and slow. I’d finally opened the new messages from Harry. They’d gotten significantly better as time went on and he sobered up. There were four hours in between the time he’d sent the first few texts that I’d opened last night and then a few from after. I’d assumed he was still at the bar with Niall and hadn’t had his phone out or summat.



What followed those were a few phone calls in intervals. Harry had only left one voicemail, though, and hearing it made my heart plummet.

Blair, I’m -- uh -- I’m sat outside your door. I’m so sorry for walking out. I feel terrible now. I don’t know if you’re ignoring me or if you’re even home because I’ve been knocking, but please. I can’t let you go to bed sad. We can talk this out...in the morning if you’d like or even now. Let’s just sleep together. I miss you, I’m so sorry. I love you and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll work it out, B.

When I finally arrived, I rushed up the stairs, almost half expecting Harry to still be sat outside my door -- except that he wasn’t. It made sense. He did have classes today. Maybe I could go see him after his lectures and pick him up again. That way I wouldn’t miss him and we could finally just work it out and things could be okay again.

It was foolish and naive to think so. It was also silly to believe that just because I missed Harry meant that everything between us could be fixed. Conversations needed to be had and things still needed to be said. However, what was different was that I wasn’t mad anymore and we were both willing to make it work. That was all that mattered.



I stood as patiently as I could outside of Harry and Liv’s lecture. They were meant to be getting out any minute now, but their Professor seemed to be the type that never knew when to stop. He was still droning on, even though students were starting to pack up. I was trying to peek into see if I could spot Harry, but it was such a big class that I gave up after a while. He would be getting out any minute now, anyway, and I could finally see him.

When the class finally dismissed, I stood off on the side and waited and waited, but Harry never came out. Liv and Dylan were amongst the last to trickle out of the classroom and I rushed to them, probably looking frazzled as fuck. I hadn’t changed out of last night’s clothes nor had I bothered to brush my hair. When I went to my flat, I only picked up my books before heading to my own classes. I didn’t want to go at all, to be honest, but being so close to finals, I couldn’t afford to miss it. Seemed useless, though, because I couldn't concentrate at all, mostly just plagued with thoughts about Harry.

“Hey,” I said, approaching Liv and Dylan, both of whom were very surprised to see me. “Is Harry in?”

“Harry didn’t come to class today,” Liv answered. “Didn’t he spend the night with you?”

I frowned, wondering where Harry could have gone if he wasn’t in class or at my flat. He could have gone home, but Layla would have said something to me. She was in constant touch with Niall after all and said she’d let me know if there were any more updates. I decided to finally call him, excusing myself from Liv and Dylan. They watched me carefully with confused expressions, but didn’t say anything. When I dialed, it didn’t ring at all, but went straight to voicemail, instead. I cursed under my breath, just about to dial again when I heard a few girls talking as they walked out of the classroom.

“Formal’s coming up,” one of them said. “Any idea who you’re taking?”

“No idea,” the other girl answered. After a quick glance, I realized it was Stella. “I hope whoever I end up going with is hot, though. I’m looking to get laid. I was at the bar last night trying to scope out potentials.”

“What about Harry Styles?”

I froze, my finger hovering over the call button next to Harry’s name.

Stella shrugged casually. “I fucked him. But, I was thinking maybe Justin Keele. He’s rather fit.”

All I could hear was the sound of my heart thumping in my chest, as if any moment it would burst. My thoughts were suddenly going a thousand miles per minute and I didn’t know whether I should go run over to Stella and punch her in the fucking face or if I should just finally cry because it felt like I was going to choke from the tears that were storing up inside of me. I felt like my chest was literally being split in half from everything that was happening -- from last night to what I’d just heard now, and I didn’t know if I could take anymore.  

Fucked him already.

What did that even mean? When? Where? How? When did she fuck him? Surely, she wouldn’t be lying to her friend just to have something to brag about. And she’d said it so easily, as though it wasn’t a lie and something she was already so casual and smug about. When would they have even done it? Was this before Harry and I got together? If that was the case, then why hadn’t he mentioned that to me when I’d asked him about her? All he’d told me then was that she was in his classes who often came to the frat parties and that they spoke occasionally.

But -- but then what if it wasn’t before he and I got together? What if it was last night when they were both at the bar? Immediately, dread filled my stomach in the ugliest way. Whatever it was that had happened between them, it all came down to Harry being selfish. He was saving himself, not sparing me a thought about how this must be for me. Harry was hiding something from me, regardless of whether it was last night that he fucked Stella or before that. And I didn’t deserve that. I wanted to throw up and cry and scream and cry some more. When I turned to look back to where Stella and her friend were, I saw that they were long gone. I then turned to look over at Liv and Dylan. Liv met my eyes and smiled at me.

“You okay?” she asked.

I didn’t know what to say so I shrugged. “I don’t fucking know,” I said, my voice thick as a dry laugh escaped my lips.  

“What happened?” Liv’s eyes were filled with concern as she walked over with Dylan. “You’re being really strange. Did something happen?”

“I can’t -- I can’t talk about this right now,” I replied helplessly. I couldn’t say it out loud. I couldn’t repeat what was going through my head because the possibility of it had me feeling so small and stupid and fucked up. Could Harry do this to me? He loved me. He told me he loved me last night. Was that before or after he fucked Stella, though?

Fuck. Fuck everything.

“You look like you need a bit of cheering up,” Dylan piped in. “My sorority is doing this day drinking thing at our house. Liv’s going to come. You should, too.”

“I--I don’t know,” I stammered, not sure if I was up to being surrounded by tons of people at the moment. But then it dawned on me what this was -- I was letting Harry get to me and make me look weak and pathetic and foolish. Like before when I’d get fucked over by a guy and be the one that was sad when it really should have been the other way around and it was happening now, too.

If I ended up going home alone or anywhere, really, I’d probably start crying and finally give in to it all. I had wanted to see Harry, but wasn’t sure how to do that anymore after what I’d just heard. If he did cheat on me or lie to me, I’d be devastated and I wasn’t quite ready to face that yet. I also had no idea where he was because his phone wasn’t ringing.  

It was hard. The whole thing was hard and I had felt like my whole being was being kicked down since last night. How were things fucking up so quickly and horribly? Harry and I had been okay and now we suddenly weren’t. Like, he could have potentially cheated on me and I was about to have a nervous breakdown in front of Liv and Dylan in the middle of campus.

Maybe going with them would be a good idea. Maybe a drink or two could help me -- loosen me up and think clearly because right now I was fucking horrified and fuming and so close to crying.

“You know what?” I managed to breathe out. “I think I’ll come.”

“Right on,” Dylan grinned. “Off we go then. You’ll feel better in no time.”



I ended up having more than one or two drinks.

In my defense, though, that was because everyone around me was offering me refills from the keg that was set up. The day drinking event was held in the backyard of the sorority house. The weather was spot on as opposed to last night when it was drizzling with dark clouds overcast. Girls were out and about in shorts and tank tops with their colorful snapbacks, taking selfies and chugging down beer, while boys from frats, like Theta Chi, were doing keg stands and getting sloppy.

The atmosphere itself was happy. The sun was shining and everyone was in good spirits except for me. I was sat on the front porch steps rather than in the back where it was more crowded and wild, yet all I felt was a mix of sadness and anger. Everything felt surreal, like I couldn’t believe this was happening because things had been so great just yesterday. I also felt suffocated and like I was choked up, which might have had a lot to do with how much I was suppressing my need to properly react to everything.

Given what had happened -- the argument, Harry walking out, all those texts and voicemails, and then what I’d overheard a little while ago -- I could have had a good cry. I could have confronted Harry right away and demanded answers. I could have done something other than stamp it down because I didn’t want to let another boy hurt me and make me look stupid. I just didn’t want to be that girl anymore. I promised myself and I was intending on keeping it for as long as I could. However, ignoring it and sitting out there at a sorority house getting progressively drunk was not ideal, either.

Although, alcohol turned out to be a better choice rather than sitting around and thinking about Harry and Stella fucking, so there’s that.

Fuck. The very thought of it made me want to claw her face off as well as his. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs till I lost my voice because I was that angry. How everything could change so quickly within the span of 24 hours was beyond me. It didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about Harry, though. I wondered where he was. Was he looking for me? Was he having another go with her? I wouldn’t have known because sometime within the first hour of me being there at the day drinking event and rereading Harry’s messages, my phone had died. I hadn’t bothered to charge it since.

“Blair,” I heard someone say. I turned only to be met by Josh’s smile as he sat down beside me. “Didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Oh, I -- uh -- wasn’t expecting to be here, either,” I slurred, suddenly very aware of how fucking drunk I was. I had lost count of how many refills I had about three hours ago, but this was worse than I expected. As I lifted my head up to meet Josh’s eyes, my head started to spin and I had to pause for a moment to let it pass.

Josh eyed me warily as he took off his red ray bans. “You alright?” he asked, making me laugh bitterly. Everyone sounded like a broken record because anyone who had talked to me since last night had been asking me that same thing.

I shook my head slowly. “Not really. No.” Josh looked rather sad about that, probably not sure of what to say. I suddenly remembered that I had wanted to talk to him since I last saw him at the frat house. Now seemed as good as time as any, so I forced a smile on my face. “Hey. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Are we okay?” I asked, blinking slowly and wondering why everything wouldn’t stop spinning. “Like, we haven’t spoken since me and Harry got together and I wanted to know if we were okay or not.”

“We’re fine,” he said with a small smile on his lips. “I mean, it hurt, sure. But it is what it is.”

I smiled at him sadly after that. “It is what it is, yeah. But I’m really sorry, Josh. I never meant to hurt anybody -- especially you. You know I think you’re a great friend, though, right?”

“Of course,” he laughed. “We’re okay. Don’t worry. I understand that Harry and you have a thing.”

“We’re in love,” I said to him confidently before grimacing. “I think. I think we’re in love. We’re supposed to be in love.”

Josh frowned, putting a hand on my shoulder and leaning in closer. “Hey -- hey, you alright?” he asked again. “You don’t look so good.”

I shook my head again, my composure shaking and ultimately crumbling. I felt like a thin rope, tethered and fragile, on the verge of breaking and ripping in half. With Josh’s arm wrapped around me and holding me close, I felt like I was going to give in to the crying because nothing made me cry more than when people tried to comfort me. Crying was essentially meant to be therapeutic. So, when people comforted me and said nice things and tried to make me feel better, it only made me want to let it all out even more.

“You can talk to me, Blair,” Josh whispered, his face close to mine. His breath smelled like beer and he himself smelled like a mix of sweat and cologne. It didn’t feel familiar at all.  

“I think that Harry might have cheated on me,” I said to him quietly, my voice barely audible over the loud music and laughs ringing through the house. “We had a fight last night and I heard some stuff and I just. I can’t deal with it so I’m here.”

Josh frowned, like he was thinking of something instead of answering right away. When I turned to him, he fixed his expression to something more neutral and sincere. “I’m so sorry. That was so shitty of him. You don’t deserve that at all.”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, wiping at my eyes roughly to try and stop any tears from falling. “I don’t fucking know. I don’t want to think about it, though. Fuck it, right? If it’s true then fuck it. Fuck him.”

I realized I may have started crying or at least started breathing really heavy, but I couldn’t think past the spinning in my head. Josh kept saying something to me, whispering in my ear while rubbing circles on my back and it felt wrong, but I let him do it anyway. My throat felt like it was constricting the more I held it all back -- the more I held myself back from crying. And then when I felt Josh’s hand slip under my shirt onto my waist, I turned to look at him, and suddenly he was kissing me on the lips.

I pulled away immediately, wiping my mouth and looking at him with a shocked expression. Josh froze for a moment, as though he’d realized what he’d just done, but then gave a short laugh. “If he can then why can’t you?” he asked.

And that was kind of right. If Harry could break the rules and break my heart, then why couldn’t I do the same?

What I did next was a complete out of body reaction. I leaned back in to kiss Josh, his hands grappling to hold on to me so I wouldn’t pull away this time. Everything about it was screaming wrong and unfamiliar and strange and not Harry, but it continued to happen anyway. It continued as he pushed his tongue into my mouth and pulled me up to my feet, leading me into the house. It continued as his hands sought purchase on my skin, digging underneath my shirt while he pulled me into the first bathroom he spotted.

I moved on physical instinct alone, trying to block out the pain in my chest and the thoughts of what had led to this moment. I let Josh move my body any which way he desired and followed along without resistance. Josh’s hands were all over me, tugging at my clothes, pressing against my skin, but I couldn’t really feel it. It was like my body was just as numb as my mind. It wasn’t until I was backed up against a wall with my legs wrapped around Dean’s waist and his pants pulled down that I realized I was screaming and crying. The reality of what was happening crashed into me the second Josh entered me, roughly and without the tender words that Harry usually whispered with this same act. The tears that had been threatening all day finally spilled down my cheeks and my body wouldn’t stop shaking. This hurt. It wasn’t right. Everything was fucked up, because when I blinked my eyes open, even through the tears, I could see that it wasn’t Harry’s green eyes looking back at me, so full of love. I needed Harry.

“No, please, I can’t,” I gasped. “Please no.”

Josh immediately pulled out, his eyes wide, frantic and blown. I clumsily got down on my feet, pulling my pants up before running out of the bathroom. I ran past everyone at the house and through the doors, and then down the street. I didn’t stop until I was in front of my building, running up the stairs to get to my flat. I felt like the sobs were being ripped out of me and I just let it happen. I let the tears fall, let my eyes turn red and let my nose run from thinking about how much I’d just fucked up.



(7) missed calls from harry styles