Harry has called you earlier and said he was going to be out late with some friends.
"Hey babe, I just need my head cleared. I'll be out for a little while catching up with some friends." You were a bit hurt that he didn't invite you, but you just shrugged it off. A guy needs a break sometimes.
You sat in your shared living room, watching some random show while on your Mac, chatting with some random fans of his on twitter. Some where rude, but that was expected. After replying to another fan, you suddenly get a huge wave of tweets.
'Y/N check this girls instagram!'
'Y/N, look at these pictures!'
'Y/N, I'm so sorry):'
Confused, you look up this girl's instagram on your iPhone. You find it, and click on it. Her newest photos were with Harry. Most of them he was kissing her neck, or her cheek, or she was doing same to him.Disgusted. That was the only word that came to mind. You shakily find Perrie's contact in your phone, sending her a message.
'Hey, I know you're at the same party as Harry. Did you see him with a girl, or can you check on him?"
A couple minuets later she sent a text back.
"Hey! I'm so sorry. I, cant type this. I'll send you a pic." A couple seconds later a picture of Harry making out with this girl appears on your phone. You gasp, already feeling the tears starting, from your heart, to the back of your throat, to your eyes. You find Harry's contact and click on the phone thing. First try, no answer. Second try, no answer. Third try, no answer. Finally you receive a text from him.
'Stop fucking calling me!' Angry tears now start up.
'I'll just say this on text then. Dont bother coming home. Ever. Dont text me or call me anymore. We're done. Have fun with that slut. Fuck you.' The tears stream, as you send the text. You throw your phone on the table, silently sobbing. How could he do this?
He's called. Texted. Emailed. Even tweeted. But you never answered. You actually changed the locks on your once shared flat. You were done. That slut apparently had a boyfriend, as he sent death threats to your home, thinking Harry would receive them. He finally gave up, realizing you weren't going to answer him. The fans were actually worried, well, the nice ones. The other ones were relieved it was finally over. I finally tweeted, addressing the whole thing. I wasn't going to tell them some fake shit about how I'm happy.
'As the tears stream, down my face.' It was a quote from their song, but it fit me perfectly. I haven't stopped crying. Never. I can't explain how much it hurts. Your phone dings, singling another text. You grab it, seeing its from Harry.
'I'll just swing around to grab my stuff then...xxxxxxx' you sigh, your heart aching. That was the deal. It was over. We were over.
