Show Stopper (One Direction)

Chapter Eleven.

As I get ready to be discharged, a nurse knocks on the door. From my position in the bathroom, I hear Harry lets her in.

"These are her blood tests, tell her to look at them when she gets out, okay?" My nurse, Stephanie says to Harry, and he follows with a short approval. When I walk out in regular clothes, Harry hands the paper over. I sit on the bed and start thumbing through my sodium and sugar levels when I see it. IT. Pregnant with a green check next to it. This is it. I'm pregnant.. Shock radiates through me, and my eyes shoot to Harry. He smiles at me, and sits next to me. I nonchalantly place the paper face down on the bed. He cant know about this if I'm going to leave, never to be seen again.

Harry shuts the door behind me and carries me all the way to the bed, as if my arms were useless. I lay my head on the soft pillow, he flicks the lights off, and lays next me. His smile is bright enough to light the room, and the electric green in his eyes is pretty enough to last forever. He wraps his masculine arms around my hips, which nine moths from now will be huge, and nuzzles his face into my neck.

When the next morning comes, I wake up and find a note from Harry. "Marlee called, be at the studio by 12 babe! I got called to a management meeting, so I'll be there to watch the show. -Harry xxxx"

This is my time. My chance. I can pack everything and be out before anyone suspects I'm gone. Harry will be at the show, and they'll call my up, when I don't show up, they'll keep the show going. By the time it's over, I could be on a plane to anywhere..

In a matter of hours, everything important of mine is packed into two bags, and my dog carrier. I take one last look at the now pretty bare apartment and open the door. When I get to the airport, I leave my car there, nothing of value in it any way. I find my way to the ticket counter, and look at all the possible selections. I pick the one near and dear to my heart. All my heart is in this place.

Holmes Chapel.

*Harry's POV*

I settle in my seat, about mid way through the show, knowing I'm about to see my girl. My beautiful girlfriend. I'm tired of this 'trial run'. I want the real deal with her. Her number is called, yet no one appears. My nerves start tingling, and my stomach gets butterflies. But not good butterflies, the bad kind. After five minutes of absence, I decide to go home, and check on her. I'm startled and utterly scared when I open the door, to find its unlocked. I feel like I'm trapped in some horror movie. The living room wall is blank, no pictures. I run to the bedroom, only to find her clothes missing, along with some shoes, make up, and tooth brush. My heart falls to my feet, and I realize it. She left me. She's gone and there's nothing I could do. She never loved me.. But truth be it, I love her. I'm in love with her, and now she's just gone. Here one day, gone the next. I sit on the bed, and place my head in my hands, tears now freely falling. She doesn't give a damn about me.

Maybe I did give her a hard time every one and a while but not enough for her to do this. I'm a broken man. I never thought a girl could hurt me like this, that I was invincible to heart break. I'm Harry Styles, teenage heart throb. I don't take heart break, I give it. But it certainly feels like I've had my ass handed to me on a plate. Was all of this a game to her? Everything? From the minute I stepped in the doors of that agency, to right now, was she planning this? How could I even think for a moment she fell for me? I was a horrible person to her and she gave me what I deserved. The one time I really fall for a girl, she shows me not only am I player, she's the coach. She's got heart break written in her eyes, and hate to fuel her heart, breaking mine.

I just let the tears pour and glance out the window. The sky is gray and the clouds are thin and ugly. The rain beats against the window harder than the weather forecast expected and for once the rain isn't welcomed to me.

Let it rain, let it pour, she don't love me anymore. Every word, let it hurt, even more than I deserve.