This Just In (Harry Styles FanFic)

Chapter 21: How do I fall out of love?

Chapter 21: How do I fall out of love?

*Maddy's POV*

I'm not sure how long I stayed on that bridge. Maybe an hour? Or maybe it was just a few minutes. I couldn't move. I just stared blankly at the disgustingly beautiful scene in front of me. I was broken. My heart had cracked in half, and if I moved, I was afraid everything else would crack with it. I think I cried. I can remember letting out a few strangled sobs.

I think I was also afraid to move because I had hurt Harry. And if I got any closer to him, I might hurt him more. Maybe I just didn't want to face my Mom's wrath when I returned home. However, the latter just seemed so selfish. Oh, who am I kidding? I am selfish. I used Harry. He fell in love, and then I broke him. I felt broken too. I knew why. It was because I had fallen in love also.

I wonder who came up with the expression, 'fall in love.'

Whoever it was must be rich. Considering how spot-on the comparison is, and how many people use it. Or maybe they didn't make any money because people might not think about it. Falling is something nobody wants to do. When you fall, you get hurt. Everything that falls gets broken. But love is different. Love is magical and enlightening. It's like a secret world where everything just feels..right. But what about falling in love? You're falling into this amazing place. So why do people get hurt? The love is usually still there. I love Harry. I hurt him, but I still love him. So what happened? Maybe when I fell, I landed badly. I broke a few bones. I broke my heart. And now I'm stuck here, all alone and broken, in the Land of Love.

Harry doesn't love me. That's why he's not here anymore. Or maybe our loves are both different. I'm just so confused.

After standing on the bridge for an indeterminable amount of time, I realize I can't feel the ripping pain in my chest from before. All of the misery is just gone. Instead, I am numb. I feel no happiness nor sorrow. I have mentally taped myself back together. But tape is temporary. Is it wrong that I am able to move now? Is it bad that I'm walking home? Maybe I should still be grieving. No, I am grieving. I can feel the difference. I haven't moved on at all. I am empty. A hollow shell of nothingness.

I find myself at my front door. I don't know how I got here. I don't care.

I walk inside, and I don't hear what my mom shouts from the kitchen. I don't see her peek around the corner at me. I don't feel myself walking up the stairs to my room. I am like a robot. I lock myself away, and strip out of my dress. I put on a tee shirt, and climb into bed. I can't cry. I can't even speak. So I stare at the ceiling and wallow in my thoughts.

I must have fallen asleep. But I'm not sure anymore. It's six in the morning, and I feel just as exhausted as before. I can't stay here forever. I get up, and trudge to the bathroom. I turn on the shower, and wait for the water to heat up. When it does, I step in, and try to feel the delicate shivers that run through my body, but I can't. I scrub myself clean, and it doesn't wash away numb feeling. I was hoping it would at least let me feel some kind of guilt or pain, but there was nothing. I dry myself off, and go back to my room, dragging my feet.

I pull on some yoga pants, and search for my favorite pink shirt. I look through all of my clothes, and even the hamper, and I find nothing. I stare out my bedroom window, until I feel my legs grow weak. I slip down against the wall. I have decided to focus on only my shirt. I will find it, and think of nothing else until then.

When was the last time I wore it? Suddenly, I remember. Harry's flat. I had changed into one of his shirts, and must've left my shirt there when I stayed the night. Oh no.

Should I go get it?

No. I broke up with him. Don't bother him anymore.

But I love him still. Plus it's a really cute shirt.

I'll just hurt him more.

Maybe I can fix this, and he'll take me back.

Bad idea.

Brilliant idea.

I go back and forth in my head. I even pace around my room. Soon, hunger threatens me, so I go downstairs and eat. Then I go back upstairs and continue pacing. By the time I partially decide, it's 4 o'clock pm. I sigh, put on a green shirt instead, and walk downstairs. I put on some fuzzy boots, and a jacket. Then I walk outside to my car. I drive to Harry's flat, not even bothering to turn on the radio. When I get there, I wait in the car for 10 more minutes. The debate in my head has started again. I ignore it, and walk inside the complex. I go into the lift, and wait for it to bring me to Harry's floor. When I get to the door to Harry and Louis's flat, I am still having doubts. I stand in front of the door, and I still don't know what I'm going to say or do. I take a deep breath, and prepare to knock, when the door opens in front of me. My mouth drops open.

I see a woman who is maybe 26 years old, wearing the shortest black cocktail dress I've ever seen, snogging with Harry. She pulls away and let's out a high pitched giggle.

"Bye, Harry." She says, and spins on her heel. Then she sees me. She looks at me in disgust, and mutters something that sound like 'attention whore' before strutting past me. Harry notices me too. He looks shocked, and I see pain fill his eyes before he covers it up.

"What do you want?!" He spits at me. Ouch. That hurt.

"Who was she?" I ask, ignoring his question.

Harry shrugs, "Just a model I met a while ago. Thought it seemed like a good time to meet up again."

"Meet up as in..." I raise my eyebrow. He slept with her, didn't he?

"Sex." He smirks at me. I feel rage fill me up. Terrifying, unreasonable anger. And I love it.

It's so different from the numbness before. I take advantage of my feelings.

"You slept with a girl right after you broke up with me?" I ask Harry. He simply looks amused.

"Yep." He replies, popping the 'p'. I ball up my fists, and clench my jaw. I glare at Harry while he carelessly picks at a cuticle on his finger.

"What did you want?" He asks after a few minutes.

"My shirt." I mutter. I see some sort of emotion deep in his eyes. He nods, and disappears from the doorway. I stay in the hall, and wait as my anger goes from jealousy to sadness. My eyes are full of tears by the time Harry comes back. He hands me the pink shirt, but all I see is a bright blob of color. I try to see Harry's face, but it is blurred by tears. I am not numb anymore. I feel the hot salty water run down my face. Harry clears his throat.

"Well, I don't think I have anything else of yours, do I?" He mutters.

Without thinking, I nod my head.

"What is it?" He shifts uncomfortably.

"My heart." I croak. My mouth is dry, and I don't know if he heard me. I wipe my eyes free of tears and look at him. His face looks amused. But his eyes are almost understanding.

"That was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard. But seriously, I have other things to do." He crosses his arms. That one gesture made me want to cry again. He was blocking himself off from me. He didn't want a hug. He didn't want me to touch him at all. I nod and fight off my tears.

"Bye Harry." I whisper. I turn around and walk back towards the lift, feeling defeated.

I barely hear Harry speak, "Bye Maddy."

And it could be my imagination, but he sounded as broken as I felt.