Chapter 35

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July 2015
**YOUR POV**
After all the tears and surprises, Harry and I got our bags from the car and got back into the house. When I stepped in again, I took a deep breath, enjoying the lovely smell of my home. Being back here was so beautiful, more beautiful than I imagined it to be.
I followed Harry through the hallway towards the stairs and up to the first floor. I stopped when I stood in front of the door that would lead into my room from back then. I didn't know why I stopped, but I somehow was scared to go in there. Was it still my room? Did they get rid of my stuff.

„You can go in, dear." I heard Anne behind me, making me turn around.

„I...I don't know how to feel about this." I admitted. „I haven't been here in two years."

„It's your room, honey. It has always been your and it will always be yours." She smiled.

I smiled back a little, still not quite sure how to feel, but my hand automatically reached for the door handle and I let out a sigh of a feeling I didn't know how to describe because I never felt it.
My room looked the same as it had always been. Everything was still right there how I left it besides the bed sheets, Anne probably changed from time to time.
I stepped in, looking around it. My decoration, my posters, my pictures, everything was there. Not one single thing was missing. I turned around again to look at Anne who stood in the doorway, smiling at me.

„Thank you." Was the only thing I managed to say to her.

„It's always been your room." She told me again before she left.

I turned back, approaching my bed and the first thing my eyes fixed on was the picture standing on my night stand. It felt like someone stabbed right into my heart when I saw it and remembered the moment it was taken.

 It felt like someone stabbed right into my heart when I saw it and remembered the moment it was taken

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I sat down on my bed, taking the picture off the stand, looking at it. Why did this make me so sad? My heart started pounding hard and I remembered the exact feelings I felt back then.
How in love I was with him, the way he pulled me in, his hand around my waist. So gentle and with the most loving look on his face. I remember exactly how his soft, pink lips felt on mine and how lovingly he looked at me after the kiss, still holding me tight to his body, so protective and sweet before he kissed me again and that was when Niall took the picture.
It was such a beautiful and intimate moment, a short one, but it was so special to me so I framed the picture afterwards and put it on my night stand to always remember this moment.

It made me smile every time I entered the room, only now it didn't. It made me sad, so sad that a tear escaped my eye and fell down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away.

I didn't want to be sad about this, but I had no control over it and I knew there was a reason that it made me sad. I missed this, this feeling of being love, of being in love and to love. I missed him and these special little things, these special moments. I missed all of it.
I didn't break up with him because I didn't love him anymore. I loved him more than anything or anyone else at that time but things happened and I had no other choice.

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