𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍, ʰᵃʳʳʸ ˢᵗʸˡᵉˢ

• 𝟐𝟗 - 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒

──────── ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

harry's pov

i woke up to a sensation that was both familiar and jarring—my arms wrapped tightly around someone's waist, my skin against theirs, and the absence of my shirt leaving me exposed to the cool morning air.

for a split second, everything felt right, like all the pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place, but then the reality hit me like a punch to the gut. as my eyes fluttered open, i saw her.

amélie.

fuck.

we had broken up just a week ago. this wasn't supposed to happen. she wasn't supposed to be here. my mind scrambled to catch up with the situation, but all i could think was how i'd been dreaming of her every night since the breakup, unable to escape the memories. she won't leave my mind; she drives me insane.

the new girl—who even cares about her? she was a distraction, a feeble attempt to fill the void amélie had left. amélie was my girl, always and forever. the right person at the wrong time—that's what people say, right? well, this just proves it.

the events of yesterday started flooding back, a messy blur of regret and alcohol-fueled decisions. i had been drinking, trying to numb the pain of losing her, as if drowning in rum could wash away the ache in my chest. clearly, i had gone too far, gotten too pissed, and then suddenly, there she was—drunk amélie at my door.

i don't even remember how it happened. one minute i was staring into the bottom of a glass, the next, she was there, and we were... together again.

it was all a haze, but the one thing that stood out, the one thing i couldn't shake, was that she had come to me. i didn't call her. i didn't ask for this. she showed up, and before i knew it, things had escalated way beyond anything i could have imagined.

i tensed up, my body rigid with panic. what the hell had we done? this wasn't just a mistake; it was a fucking disaster. she had a career, a life outside of me, and she didn't deserve to lose everything because of one night of weakness.

no matter how much i still loved her—no, even if i believed she was the girl i was supposed to marry—i couldn't let her ruin her life over this. i jumped out of bed, my heart racing, and started pacing the room, trying to make sense of it all.

my mind was a chaotic mess, thoughts crashing into each other, but one thing was clear: i needed to fix this before she woke up and realized where she was.

she stirred beside me, a soft, almost innocent sound, and i knew she was waking up. i was running out of time. i needed to make her understand that this... this wasn't what it looked like.

but how? how could i explain any of this when i barely understood it myself? i glanced at her as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep. she looked confused, and then, as her eyes focused on me, the confusion turned to something else—realization, maybe even regret.

"harry?" her voice was soft, uncertain, like she wasn't sure if this was real or just some terrible dream.

i stopped pacing, my stomach knotting as i forced myself to meet her gaze. "amélie, listen... last night, it was a mistake. we were both drunk, and—"

"a fucking mistake?" she interrupted, her tone sharpening. "is that what you think this is?"

"you know what i mean," i said quickly, trying to keep the situation from spiraling out of control. "we weren't thinking straight. we've both been through a lot, and this... it shouldn't have happened."