"Are you stupid?" he sounds mad.
"Excuse me?" I reply, taken aback.
"You're high as a kite, parading around like you don't have a care in the world. Do you even realize the consequences? One photo of your eyes, and it's headlines everywhere. You're smarter than this."
I scoff, my anger starting to rise. "Oh, and I suppose you're the authority on how to live life? You're no saint yourself, Harry."
He glares at me, his frustration evident. "I never said I was perfect, but I know when to draw the line. You need to be more careful."
"I don't need you telling me what to do," I retort, crossing my arms defiantly.
"It's not about telling you what to do," he replies, his voice softer but still firm. "I care about you, and I don't want to see you hurt yourself."
His words catch me off guard, and for a moment, my anger subsides. "You don't care about me Harry," I say, my voice softer now.
"That's not true," he insists, his voice tinged with hurt. "I do care about you, more than you know."
I shake my head, trying to push away the conflicting emotions inside me. "You have a funny way of showing it," I say, my voice laced with bitterness.
His face tightens with frustration, and he takes a step back, his hurt turning into anger. "Oh, so now it's my fault?" he retorts, his voice rising.
I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to back down. "I'm just saying, Harry. Actions speak louder than words."
He scoffs, running his hand through his hair in exasperation. "You think I don't care about you? You think I don't want what's best for you?"
"Frankly, sometimes I don't know what you want," I shoot back, my anger flaring up.
Harry's jaw clenches, and he takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "You don't know what it's like," he says, his voice strained. "The pressure, the expectations, always having to please everyone."
"You think I don't understand the pressure?" I counter, my voice tinged with frustration. "I may not be as famous as you, but I'm in the spotlight too. People expect things from me as well, and I have to deal with the judgment and criticism just like you do."
He looks taken aback by my response, his eyes searching mine. "I never said you didn't," he replies, his tone softer now.
I take a deep breath, trying to control my emotions. "Then why do you act like I'm the one who doesn't get it?" I ask, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.
"Fuck I don't know" he mutters, leaning against the door and burying his face in his hands. "I'm over this bullshit" he sighs. "Maybe it's better if you just go back to your fake boyfriend. It'd be simpler for both of us," he adds, sliding down the door until he's sitting with his knees pulled close to his chest and his arms draped over them.
"Harry," I say gently, taking a step closer to him. "I don't want to go back to him. I never did. It was all for show, remember?"
He lifts his head slightly, his green eyes locking with mine. "But you're getting close to him, and I can't fucking stand it," he admits, his voice raw with emotion.
"I'm faking it H," I say, my voice trembling with emotion. "I didn't want anyone to see what was really happening in my head."
He looks up at me, "yeah, what was really going on in your head."
My heart flutters like a thousand butterflies in my chest as I stand before Harry, my mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions. I want to tell him the truth, to let him know how I really feel, but the fear holds me back. What if he doesn't feel the same way?
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All My Love || Harry Styles
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