Harry Styles Imagines (Book 2)

Don't Judge Me

Thank you all for understanding why I couldn't post and thank you for the people who said "Sorry for your loss" or "Your family are in my prayers". That really meant a lot to me, so thanks. Yea, I'm still sad but not as much as I used to be. BUT THE IMAGINES MUST GO ONNNN!!!!

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Harry's POV

"Where were you last night?" (Y/N) yells. My eyes lazily drift over to her before returning to the TV screen. "Damn it, where the hell were you?" She snatches the remote off of the table and turns off the TV.

"I was watching that," I protest. "C'mon, I just got home can I get some relaxation time before you start with this bullshit."

She frowns as she looks at me, and I already know that I've taken it too far. (Y/N) was just showing her concern for me, but still, she keeps prying in my business when all I want is for her to just leave it alone.

"You didn't come home until three in the morning," she screams. I can see the tears in her eyes, and I avert my gaze. "You never used to do this. Is there something wrong with us? Is there something I'm not doing?" She pauses. "Is this about Mia?"

I clench my fists when I hear her mention my ex-girlfriend's name. "I don't want to go there," I mutter rubbing my eyes. I can hear (Y/N) scoff, and I already that whether I want to or not, we're going to have to talk about it. "Why you wanna go there?"

"Because I know she's been blowin' up your phone, and now you're not coming home until ridiculous hours of the night. I'm sorry if I'm getting concerned," she says sarcastically. "It isn't like you have the cleanest track record."

"You're hearing rumors about me, now?" I ask. I look her in her eyes noticing the tears. "I know that you can't handle the thought of me being with someone else - shit, I can't even handle thinking of you with anybody else - but you have to know that that was the past me. That was who I was before I met you."

She folds her arms across her chest, and I stand up. Her eyes are focused on the ground, and I know that she's hurt. Wrapping my arms around her, I rest my chin on the top of her head.

"Baby, I just don't want you to judge me. It'll only make things get ugly before they even get beautiful," I whisper. I can feel her body shaking, and I wrap my arms around her tighter. Despite my urge to say something else, I know that in a few days every word I'm saying now will just be used in another fight. Unable to think of anything else to say, I settle on whispering, "Just let it be beautiful."

I convince her to come upstairs with me, and she doesn't protest when I curl up beside her. But we both know that later she'll just bring up the subject again. We've been through the same routine to the point where I can easily predict what will happen. She'll mention a rumor she's heard and some pictures she saw, and she'll start yelling about my indifference.

I just want her to keep the past in the past. I want her to take me as who I am, and not as who I was.