*this is a 70s!rockstar!Harry Styles au fanfic... i mean... he just radiates 70s!rockstar*
The 70s. A time of free love and music. And that's exactly what reader gets into when meeting the newly famous rockstar Harry Styles: love and music.
Along w...
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Summary: Harry finally opens up to reader about his past.
Note: grammar and spelling errors. PLEASE READ THE END NOTE BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE MY IMPORTANT NOTES ARE. ****THIS IS THE BIGGEST CHAPTER OF THE SERIES!!!!! WHERE EVERYTHING IS REVEALED****
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Warning: language, mention of drugs & alcohol, slight smut
Words: 5.9k+
***August 22, 1978***
It was the usual spot you sat at by the tree in the open field. A spot you often spent time at in the backyard with Harry to get away from his entourage at the Italian villa.
Lots of memories were made there.
The sun's rays on your shoulders. The tall grass tickling your legs. The soft wind skimming over your dress.
The best part of the spot: it was quiet.
And this time, you were sitting there alone without Harry.
You now preferred it that way.
You preferred the distance away from Harry.
Soft trudges of footsteps made their way through the grass, and from how familiar you grew to the owner of the footsteps, you knew it was Harry.
Harry sat at your side. And there was complete silence. Just the two of you sitting there side by side, overlooking the landscape.
In the corner of your eye, you caught his fingers twiddling with a guitar pick. One you had given to him as a small gift years ago.
His hands were nervous. Harry was nervous.
But you looked past it, and continued thinking to yourself.
"Something's changed..." Harry softly spoke, like a hesitant boy. "I can feel it, you know? You don't let me kiss you anymore. You don't go on walks with me anymore. I can barely get you to look at me." Harry glanced at you as he spoke, and his words were true. You still refused to look at him. "Don't..." Harry's voice wavered. "Don't shut me out."
Those words got you, pulling a soft breath from your lips. A tired breath.
"Shut you out?" you tiredly sighed, finally looking at him. You shook your head, looking back at the landscape. Gathering the right words to say. "I'm so lost," you confessed. "I came here for you. I came here so you would get better... But I don't understand. I don't understand what this is. What we are? Because we aren't together... and somehow we are more than friends. And I am so confused as to how we got here, Harry," you spoke in defeat. As if all the energy had been drained from you. "How I went from meeting you in a bar, to traveling the world with you as your fashion designer and girlfriend, to a nightmare of a breakup, to finding you in the midst of an overdose, and now I am here in Italy with Harry Styles taking care of him because he doesn't know how to take care of himself. Despite everything you have put me through, I am back here with you. And it angers me. It angers me!" you fumed. "You cheated on me. You lied to me. You shut me out. You almost died in front of me. You used me. You took advantage of me because you knew you could. And everyone always talks so highly of you... that you're a selfless man who gives. But you're not. You are the most selfish man I know. You have taken the most of me... and have given me nothing in return. And I don't understand why because I have only ever wanted you. But everyone else? Everybody wants something from you, but they don't want you, Harry. They used you the way you used me." You could feel the hot tears streaming down your face. And Harry didn't wipe away your tears, as much as it pained him not to. But he knew it wasn't his place at the moment. Those were tears caused by him, as they had been many times before. "And now I have this question in my head... and I keep asking it over and over again. Every waking moment. Trying to make sense of things." You paused. "Why'd you have to love me?" you asked.
