"Your late." Is the first thing he mutters when I walk into our apartment. Being the girlfriend of a pop star, it's quite bizarre to argue with him about not wanting a big house and when I won in our argument, I instantly picked this two-bedroom apartment.
Grumpily, I throw my office keys on the dining table as I watch him turning his head back to the television screen. "You were supposed to pick me up."
He throws his head back, groaning and turns off the tv. My body takes the support of the kitchen counter tiredly, closing my eyes while I fetch myself a glass of water. I hear his footsteps approaching me and suddenly he starts massaging my shoulders.
'Yeah. Sorry, love. The rehearsal took longer because Sarah and Mitch decided to arrive late." I turn around and his arms cage my waist. He pecks my cheek, his eyes lingering on my lips. "Lovie, 'm sorry."
I sense his body, him waiting for me to give a kiss, but I don't bother and walk pass him, just nodding. It doesn't take him long to realize nothing is coming from me when I walks towards our bedroom door.
"What gotten to you, today?" I can hear his frown within his harsh tone in his voice which apparently doesn't make it any better. I stop on my tracks and turn around to face him. We stare at each other for few seconds before I mutter. "Nothing. Leave it, Harry."
"Speak up, Y/N. I will not gonna make my evening upset just because you are!"
"You could at least let me know you were late or not coming!" I yell back at him. I can feel the pain in my lower stomach building up. Then once again I feel a rush of throbbing cramp and without wasting any time, I take a run towards the bathroom before giving last glare to him.
"I texted you!" He shouts. I swear to god if this fucker of my boyfriend don't stop his reasoning, I will do something to him. I can't handle the pain and then Harry shouting isn't solving any problem. Fuck my life.
While I start freshening up, I hear his grunts on the other side of the door as he paces outside the door like a hawk. "I seriously texted you! Don't blame me if you didn't open your phone."
I turn on the shower as I shout back an answer. "Well, news flashed, Harry, my phone's battery died down just because I had thought that my boyfriend would pick me anyways."
"That's not my fucking problem!"
"Then don't make it mine and let me have a shower in peace!" The rest of my time, I find myself showering down all my pain.
Strolling out from the bathroom, wrapped up in my towel I carefully watch for Harry but he isn't in the room. Then I hear the same sound of television and I assume he is back at the living room. Thank god. I am too tired to deal with this shit but literally too hungry that I have to go outside if that means I have to deal with his angry self again.
Well, also my heart feels like I may have treated him badly earlier.
After wearing fresh clothes and still clutching my stomach as again cramps seem to take control, I walk out and straight for the kitchen to get myself some snacks.
I see him watching football match, his eyes grudging at every player's move. Or it is his way of ignoring me. Blocking my thoughts, I move to the kitchen and open the cupboard to take out a packet of salty potato chips, then comes out the jar of Nutella.
My mind stubbornly denies not go there, my feet heaves me to the couch where he sits. I take my seat as far as possible away from him, even not glancing once at his direction.
At the corner of the screen I see the volume bar going down as I munch on my chip in silence.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or are you going to stay mad at me for no reason at all?' Harry's voice asks.
