Stella's POV
"What are you doing in here?" I asked, making eye contact with Harry Styles, who was peeking out from behind a couch.
"I didn't think anyone would look in here. Are you alright?" Harry asked. I sighed.
"Me and Louis got in a fight." I said.
"Aren't you guys always in a fight?" Harry wondered. I sighed again.
"I just can't stop... ruining everything." I muttered. Harry paused for a minute.
"Is... is it safe to come out? You don't have me, right?" Harry wondered. I shook my head.
"No, I have Ava. And I don't even have a gun." I pointed out. Harry thought for a second, trying to decide if he believed me, but ultimately crawled out from behind the couch and came to sit by me.
"What do you mean you ruin everything?" He asked.
"It's what I've been doing all tour... It's what I've been doing since I left New York. I just... I wish I didn't have emotions, because every time I lose my temper or get sad it just makes everyone hate me more." My goddamn Tomlinson rage. No one hated Louis for having Tomlinson rage.
"No one hates you, Stell, I can promise you that."
"You don't understand because you're not here. Everyone's afraid to talk to me, they don't want to hang out with me anymore. I've been trying so hard to just not feel anything, to not say anything and then just... I blow it. I blew up on Louis because he was trying to kiss me and I didn't want him to and..."
"Did you tell him you didn't want him to?"
"Yeah, and he was holding onto my shirt and like pulling me so he could kiss my head and... I just lost my shit." I explained.
"Sounds like you told Louis something was bothering you and he ignored you. Not your fault. And I can see how hard he must've pulled you, your shirt is stretched out and your neck is red. From my point of view, it's Louis who's the bad guy here, not you." Harry explained.
"But that... I shouldn't have flipped out. Maybe I should've just let him kiss me. I don't know. I don't always have to fight all the time. But it's weird. It's weird for a brother to kiss a sister."
"Was he trying to kiss you in a weird way? Or like in a normal way? Because I see him kiss your head sometimes. I kiss my sister's head sometimes." Harry shrugged.
"You do?" I asked, looking up at him. He nodded.
"It might just be a culture thing. A lot of my old friends will kiss their siblings on the head sometimes. It's just a thing. I'm sure Louis didn't mean to be weird about it." Harry said. I shrugged.
"Did someone tell you it was weird?" Harry wondered. "Like, why are you all of a sudden weird about it?" He pressed. I didn't say anything again, focusing on a spot in between the cushions of the couch in front of us.
"Someone American?" Harry pressed, nudging me. I smiled a little, but still didn't say anything.
"Someone named Olivia?" Harry pressed. I looked up at him.
"Olivia? No. I haven't thought about Olivia. Not even once." I told him.
"Oh. Sorry. I thought..."
"It doesn't even matter." I groaned, getting up. "Because I blew up on Louis and now all the work I've done trying to be calm and not lose my shit is gone. It's been weeks and now all he's going to see is me acting like a 5 year old throwing a tantrum."
"Stella, he's the one who fucked up. He was being rough, especially after you asked him to stop."
"He's my brother, that's his job." I whined, flopping down on the couch.
