Rage coursed through your veins as you swiped through the pictures on his recent Instagram post. Picture after picture of dazzling smiles and dizzying gazes that to any normal person screamed that these two were in love. But you knew better. You knew him better. He was dangling her right in front of your face. This wasn't love. It was cruel bitterness.
You were lucky to call Harry your best friend for over eight years. Now you just referred to him as an asshole. You'd seen him date many people on and off over the years, and it was always the same game with him. So when the two of you made a drunken mistake, high off the adrenaline from his successful night, you thought you knew how the events would unfold. You would sleep together, he would go MIA for a couple of weeks and then show up out of the blue for another go-round. But when you woke up that morning to him cooking you breakfast and making day plans for the two of you, your entire world went sideways, before crashing down and exploding.
Laying out Harry's typical M.O. for him went poorer than you thought. Instead of handling it like an adult he threw a tantrum spewing out every friends to lovers cliche. He stormed out of your house that day and left every one of your calls and texts unanswered.
So this was his way of getting back at you it seemed. Showing you what could have been if you hadn't ruined it. Frolicking on beaches while drowning in champagne and each other's joy.
"Whatever I don't need that," you thought to yourself as you threw your phone at the couch cushion and made your way into your kitchen.
"I bet she thinks she's found herself a real winner," you mumbled to yourself as you tried to fix yourself a sandwich, struggling with the tie on the bag of bread.
You slammed your hands down on your counter— too angry to continue with your pathetic attempt at a distraction. Your body moved quicker than your brain could even process. You swiped your jacket off the back of the couch after snatching your phone and stuffing it in your jeans pocket. You slammed your door behind you and stomped out to your car. Adrenaline and furry pumping through your body. You sped the entire way, not a single concern for your reckless driving in mind. Only thoughts of hate for him and his stupid face flowed through your brain.
You pulled up to his gate and punched in the numbers that let you in. You slammed your car into park and watched as his front door cracked open. You knew he must have received the notification on his phone that someone was there but you didn't let that phase you. You pounded your feet into every step with the meanest scowl written across your face.
"What the hell," he began to ask but you didn't let him finish. You crashed into him with a passionate kiss. His initial shock and confusion only lasted a few seconds before he wrapped his arms around your waist and returned your kiss with matched intensity.
You pulled away first, quickly pulling air into your lungs and exhaling a breathless "fuck you" as he walked you backwards through the threshold of his front door.
