Three Rules // A Harry Styles Au

Part 4 - Loving Someone Is Easy

You've smoked more in the past two weeks than you normally would in two months. You need to kick the habit, desperately, but things have taken a turn for the worst and they are currently your only vice. You know it's all a lie - that they make you feel better. It's all in a mentality anyway - if only you had the mentality to toss them over the side of your balcony and never look back. You're not strong enough to do that. Not anymore.

Harry left. After you told him how you feel he stared at you for two minutes, and then locked himself in the bathroom for an hour, and then just left. That was two weeks ago and he hasn't been back since.

You left him be for a few days, hoping he'd just get over himself and come back. But he didn't. You decided to try and call him on about day four, but he never answered, to no real surprise. You didn't bother for a few more days, but then you started getting concerned.

According to Anne, he'd shown up at her house the day he came home, after he'd left yours, and he spent two days there. He'd spent the entire time moping on her couch and whining about you, and in typical Anne fashion, she'd told him that he's an idiot and should've realised sooner. After that he left hers, and no one has heard from him since.

You've been to see Sarah and Mitch, and they had no idea he was back. Gemma knows he's home but hasn't seen him. You even asked Nanna if he made an appearance, really scraping the barrel with possible places he could go, but she was also none the wiser.

You can handle the rejection. If anything it's a weight off your shoulders - you're not carrying around that burden anymore. But not knowing where he is or if he's safe? It's ripping you apart inside.

On his birthday everyone started to really panic. He could've been fucking anywhere, and no one knew where that was. Harry hasn't ever spent his birthday alone. You absolutely hate that he might have done this year. Between everyone you could rally, you probably collectively sent near two-hundred texts, and left fifty voicemails. Anne's been begging to get the police involved, but you and Gemma are reluctant.

You know deep down that he's just processing it. It's a pretty dramatic way to go about it, but it needs to be done. You just want to know that he's safe.

You spend a lot of time on your balcony, even though it's freezing outside, just hoping he'll pull up in his car. You don't care what he might say when he comes back in. You just want him to come home.

Your healthier vice has been exercise. In the colder months you tend to comfort eat and gain weight, so you've been running everyday rather than just a couple of times a week. Physically you feel better for it, but it's one of those things that leaves you with too much time to yourself, and you end up thinking about things that make you sad.

This morning you've decided to run along the cliff paths, which was a brave decision considering the force of the wind today. It's whipping up a nice bit of sea spray to hit you in the face as you breeze past. It's welcome against your perspiring skin, but also a little distracting. You've nearly ran into a dog once or twice.

Your music suddenly pauses, your ringtone taking over the noise coming out of your headphones. You slow to a walk, breathing heavy as you answer the call without checking your phone.

"Hello?" You answer over a heavy breath.

"Hey, mate. It's Gemma."

"Oh, hey." You stop your walking, sitting on an empty bench that faces over the coastline.

"He's just showed up." Gemma says quietly.

You exhale a long breath, rolling your head back. "He has?"

"Yeah."

You swallow thickly. "What state is he in?"

"A bad one." She sounds uncomfortable. "He stinks of alcohol, he's barely legible, and he keeps going on about some rules. And you."