Harry Styles Oneshots

Say You Love Me

Nothing hurts more than an unrequited love.

WC: 2.3k

//

She's always been the quiet one, the insecure one, the lonely one. She's always been the one that's been the second option, the plan B. She's always been the one that no one thinks twice about, the one that's forgotten, the one that's not really wanted. The one that's just there.

It's the same thing she's tried to tell herself isn't the case. The thing that her anxiety whispers in both the dead of night and yet the loudest and brightest of days.

She's not quiet, she's nervous. She's not insecure, she's misunderstood. She's not lonely, she's underappreciated.

She's the one that everyone bounces off, that they go to for their problems and yet never think to share with her their celebrations. She's there for the rutty stuff -- when friends are in need of a vent or some help, then she's dropped again. She's there for when they need her, but never really when she needs them.

She knows what her anxiety whispers is true, that her depression sings anxiety's songs and has her spiralling the dance of self-doubt and loneliness. She knows they're not just psychological murmurs -- knows that they're the truth. And yet, she tells herself to forget the truth so it doesn't hurt so much.

She's used to it, but it doesn't make the pain of it any more bearable. She's used to being the last one hearing news, the last one being invited out (if they even remember). She's used to having her birthday forgotten, to having her invitations lost in the post. She's used to picking herself back up after every downfall she faces.

She is quiet. She is insecure. She is lonely.

And yes, she's surrounded by friends. If you could call them that. Familiar faces that she sees semi-regularly, that have known her for years but not really. She knows them all like the back of her hand. Y/N doesn't like much about herself, but she's always known she's a good friend. She's always known she has a kind heart, that she puts others first and she's attentive and considerate.

Y/N wears her heart on her sleeve and all people do is tug and tug and tug until eventually, the stitching is stretched to tattered threads and it's barely hanging on.

She has a good heart but along the way, she's lost her voice. Her voice of confidence, of self-worth. She's lost her courage to fight for herself. It's an odd thing about her, something she's only recently come to realise.

Her self-doubt and anxiety cripple her from doing much for herself. Booking appointments, asking for assistance, expressing her emotions if it means she needs to show vulnerability in fear of becoming a burden. And yet with her friends? She can do it all in the blink of an eye. She can sacrifice sleep and food to help a friend through a rough patch. She can encourage them to seek proper help and offer support. She can comfort people without making them feel like their emotions are troublesome to her.

Yet, she can't speak up in fear of being ignored -- in fear of people knowing she's been ignored -- in fear of people watching her be ignored. She can't speak up about her vulnerable feelings, about what her anxiety puts her through, about how she doesn't feel good enough. She doesn't think she can stomach a pat on the back and a "cheer up!" She doesn't think she can handle them telling her it's all true. Telling her that no, she isn't good enough.

She can't handle the embarrassment of anyone using it against her -- as a bit of friendly banter that'll actually crush her to a bloody stump.

Y/N's done a good job of it if she's honest -- of keeping her feelings and emotions to herself. Not that any of her friends have ever really made an effort to ask or to understand the way her body has its tells for every emotional turmoil she faces.