Give Me Love (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

You've Changed

-Story's P.O.V.-

"What's this one about?" Jenna said, motioning to my worn out notepad.

"A friend." I said quietly.

"It wouldn't be that Harry kid, would it?" Jenna said while taking my temperature.

I didn't say anything, entirely too into my current task. I was writing a poem. When I write, it's like I'm leaving my worries. Like I'm being possessed for the time being and just going off to my own beautiful world of thoughts.

I actually was writing a poem about Harry, although I'd never tell Jenna that. She's already begun teasing me about him. She insists that we are dating and madly in love with each other. Which couldn't happen. I can't love. I lost that luxury when my only lover died because of me. If I hadn't leaned in to kiss him. If I hadn't intensified the kiss, turning it into something that would kill him. He would still be here. And I wouldn't be in this hospital. We would have seen some stupid sappy film and made fun of it throughout the whole thing. He would have driven me home. Would have kissed me one last time before disappearing into the dark night. His parents wouldn't hate me the way they do now. Everything would be perfect. And I'd still be living my Cinderella story. With the one true love I've ever had. But I'm a fuck up. And I ruined a perfect life.

Did you know that James wanted to be a professional songwriter? That was before I stole away any chance of him living his dream life. He was such a good songwriter too. Always had the perfect melody and beat. Sometimes, he would even sing his songs to me just before I fell asleep. That's why I felt so eased when Harry began singing last week when we watched that film.

Speaking of Harry. That little bastard hasn't come to visit me since that day. He's not really a bastard. I just like calling people that when I feel that it's necessary.

It's been a week. And he hasn't answered any of my texts. I don't dare to call him, though. I'm actually afraid to hear his voice for the first time in a week. That sounds weird. But I don't even know why I don't want to hear his voice over the phone. Ehh. I've got problems. What's new?

I've been letting my hands take over as the last of my thoughts circled my mind. When I write, I'm not even conscious of what I put down until I've finished it. But I'm always quite pleased with the outcome.

Time to read my work.

Poem:

"I could skip a heartbeat, and I would survive.

I could be in a car crash and still be alive.

The clouds could fall right out the sky

The oceans could disappear, and all turn dry.

These things in life are all bad, I know.

But there's far worse things.

Just thought you should know.

Life would not be the same without someone like you,

Your there when I need you to help me get through.

Through the good times and through the bad.

Be them happy. Or be them sad.

We could be apart for years upon end,

And still remain the best of friends.

That's such a life, and how things come to be.

Just thought you should know how much you mean to me."

I guess that will do. It's not like I'm showing it to him.

I put away my notebook just as a hard knock was at my door. I don't feel comfortable just yelling for them to come in, so I quickly shuffled my feet towards the door.