When You Were Mine (L.S.)

Prologue

I still remember the way he looked at me. The way he smelled. The way he held his breath when I approached him.

I still remember the smile he used to give me. The way he would whisper to me in secret. The way he would cry. The way he never wanted to let me go. The way his curly hair flew in the wind without misplacing a single strand of hair.

But most importantly, I still remember the way he loved me.

The way he used to love me.

The day I cried in his shirt while he held me in his arms was the day my whole perspective changed.

I wasn't who I was before, after that very day.

My birthday.

There's no one to blame but the stupidity of myself.

Why did I involve myself in the warm feeling of being able to be loved by the most amazing person a person can be?
Why did I torture him for the sake of my own comfort?

There's no correct answers to those questions.

It's just all so fucked up.

Thats life though.

Or at least my life.

Harry left me two years ago. I tried. Tried to hold on to him. Tried to survive through this mess.

But I couldn't anymore. I was hurting him. He couldn't be caught with me. He was in danger while I was around. He's better without me.

I did my best just so he could raise a pride flag.

And that's exactly what my baby did.

So if I rephrase that, I left Harry two years ago. But it was for the best. Even if he still loves me, It would hurt less to see him with someone else than with me.

The reason he crossed my mind was because of the news. I don't really like what's on the news but I turn it on all the time. I loved what was on the news today though

He won a Grammy for album of the year.

My Harry!

Wait stop. He's not mine.

Gravity returned me back to the ground from the little jump I did and forced me to sit back down and listen to what (not my) Harry had to say.

"Shit. Well shit." I breathe out a little laugh and then stop myself. What would he say if he knew I was watching this?

I turn the tv off and turn out the lights. I check the time and wonder why I stayed up all night just for my thoughts to tell me that Harry would be mad if he ever knew the things I watch of him.

Edits, award shows, music videos, interviews, movies. Whatever he shows up in, I watch it.

I need to stop being so clingy. He's probably happy I left him.

My mind goes to Harry genuinely being happy. What about the after party? Will he stay for it? Will he meet someone and bring them home? Will he think of me and send them back to their place? What if he fucks the living hell out of everyone there and the thought of me never crosses his mind?

Fuck. I can't sleep.

I grab a bottle of vodka and settle in front of my tv. I pull a blanket over my lap and sip the bottle in my hands until it's completely gone.

By the time the bottles empty, I'm drunk as hell.

Suddenly my hands think before my mind and the next thing I know are my fingers hovering over the call button under Harry's name.

Fuck it.

I press the green button and bring it up to my ear. My phone starts to vibrate in my hand. I can't tell if the ringing is coming from my phone or my ears but suddenly I hear that deep voice. The voice I haven't heard since the time I butt dialed him last year. Why do I still have his number?

"Louis?" My eyesight gets blurry from the tears threatening to leave my eyes. Making my chest feel broken. I just want to run away and forget. Forget anything and everything that has happened in my whole life. "Hello?"

A choked up sob comes from my mouth. Stop ruining his night. Hang up, Louis.

"Louis, are you okay?" I miss the way he talked so slow with that deep voice of his. He could turn ten minutes into twenty with the way he lures you in with his tone of voice. I miss the way he used to say my name. That rich accent that was only made for him. "Louis I'm going to hang up."

"Wait!" I practically yell. I don't know what to say but I don't want him to go. I don't want him to leave. I don't want to miss that voice for another year. I don't want to remember the feeling of always walking out the door, feeling like you're forgetting something. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

Please don't go. Please don't leave me like this. Don't leave me broken for just a minute. Please

"I'm sorry but I'm at the after party right now. I'll call you back if I get the chance." Call you back. The three words he never meant. The three words he would use to lie to everyone else but me.

The three words that made me hiccup another broken sob out of my mouth.

"I'm sorry Louis." And then I heard the familiar sound of a call end.

I had no one. Not Oli, not Stan, not even my mom. So instead I called Niall. He never understood what has happened between Harry and I except for that we were together and broke up.

"Louis! How are you mate?" His cheery leprechaun voice made me smile. I haven't heard from him in a while.

"I'm drunker than a- than a-" What? Than a what? Niall seemed to be on a different page though. Maybe he could hear my broken down voice over the phone.

"I'll be over in five." I nodded and realized he couldn't see me.

"Okay." He hangs up the same time I sniffle and start picking up my crying again. I miss Niall.

I miss Harry.

But he's not mine to miss anymore. I'm done with Harry. Who even is Harry? I don't know. Just some random guy I guess?

Okay. This is fooling no one.

I grab an apple from the stupid fruit basket and sink my teeth into it before sobbing. My slobber and tears spread around the apple all the way to the bottom, making my hand wet.

Why does drinking do this to me?

I throw the apple across the kitchen and sob into my hands.

A few minutes later, I hear the door open and footsteps approaching me. The next thing I feel are a pair of tiny arms wrap around me.

"I just miss him so much." I breathe out. It hurts. Hurts to talk. It hurts to cry. It hurts to be only half of myself while the other half is probably being bought a drink by someone I don't know. "It's just so suffocating sometimes Niall."

"I know Louis." He walks me to my bed and lays down next to me. I curl into his body and he holds me through every broken sob I push out of my mouth. "He still loves you."

I don't respond. How does he know? No one knows Harry as well as I do. Or at least knew.  It's just hard to believe that he would still love me after the way I pressured him.

What the fuck is wrong with me?