The rose and the sunflower.
The girl with the golden eyes and the boy with a golden heart.
The girl that believed love was just a fairytale and the boy that believed fairytales are just stories waiting to come true.
'I used to think love was a point...
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"Louis! Open the door!" I bang my fist against the bathroom door on the bus, hoping that Louis will finally talk to me.
"Piss off!" he yells at me and I sigh.
"You can't ignore me forever. It's been a week, I just want to talk to you!" I bang on the door again.
"Hayley, leave me the fuck alone!"
"You're going to have to leave the bathroom eventually, you have to go to the stadium soon."
"I'll stay in here if it means I won't be having to look at you."
seven days ago - 2am
I wake up with this feeling in my stomach. I feel like I'm going to be sick because of my anxiety. Ever since Zayn took time off, I've been feeling more and more anxious. I don't know why it's so bad recently, but it is and it's gotten even worse since my argument with the boys.
A couple days ago, the morning after Zayn left, the boys were discussing their friend's temporary departure and seemed to piece together that I was being insistent on being the one to check on Zayn after the incident when the show in Hong Kong was finished. Louis seemed bothered by it, and then brought up that since I was in there with him, I most likely knew what he was going to say to them at the bar afterwards.
He was right. I did know and I lied about it. I lied and got caught and ended up in a huge argument with Louis, Liam, Niall, and Harry.
I managed to resolve it quickly though, well with everyone except Louis.
I decide to focus on something different because remembering all the lies I've told to the boys because of this thing with Zayn is making me feel conflicted and even more anxious.
Harry is next to me, fast asleep. I don't want to wake him, he looks so peaceful. I do, however, want to get up and go take my anxiety medication to see if it'll help but I can't get up. Harry has me held close to him, extremely close, as though he's clutching onto me to keep him safe.
I begin to wonder what time it is. It has to be at least- shit. One of our phones start to ring and it nearly jumps me out of my skin. Harry stirs and then he's awake, just what I was trying to avoid.
"Baby, the phone." he says, still half asleep.
"It's yours." I inform him as I glance to mine on the bedside table and see that it's still off.
"Christ." he mutters under his breath, clearly not happy about being woken up.
Out of curiosity, I check the time. It's around two in the morning. Who the fuck is calling at two in the morning?
