Hey Angel. //h.s//

//Please Don't Leave Quite Yet//

Harry's POV:

'Uh Grace?' My voice travels through to the bathroom in which she is still situated. I could hear her feet lightly patting the ground as she enters my room.

'Yeah, what's up?' She question, unsure on how to answer I handed her my phone, the text lighting up the screen. I watch as her eyes scan the message and her face fall. As soon as she notices that I caught her slip, she pressures herself to smile.
'That's amazing H, I can't believe it. It's a week's paid work and you get to do what you love.' The reassurance wasn't enough. I wanted to do this, it's my slow start and another chance for me to get out there.

I hate this. I hate that I'm supposed to consider her as a option. This is my future, my 'talent'. I know she would support me as I would do the exact same for her. So yes I sound selfish, but this girl who has changed me and my perspective, cannot hold me back. I need to do this and I can no longer let other people define my choices in life. You can attempt to plan out your life, but as we all know life itself becomes the biggest obstacle. It's all happening in the wrong order and too fast. I was content with finding myself, with how I was doing small pub gig. Then by chance, I stumble into a situation where I meet a timid girl, who proves to me that I've been drifting.

'I'm going to do it.' I state abruptly pulling her out of her own thoughts. Again, her face drops.
'A-Are you sure?' She stutters, my face displays a frown. How can she change her mind that quickly? One moment she's says it's amazing, the next she's questioning me.
'You're kidding me right? You're pulling my leg?' Her face blank and eyes watering.
'I just wanted to make sure you were serious about this. But clearly you are.' Our voices becoming raised as our argument plays out.
'I thought you'd be supportive of me? I'm utterly dumbfounded that this was your reaction' I spit.
'I'm sorry that it came across that way, I never meant for it to. Of course I think you should fucking do this. I just wanted you to think.'
'Well, I've fucking thought about it and I think you should leave.' Before the words register in my mouth, I could feel the poisonous aftertaste. 'Oh don't you worry your pretty little head, I'm gone baby.' She piles her stuff into a bundle and storms into the bathroom. What in the world have I done?

The door slams open and there she is, wearing her dress from last night. Her heels clacking on the floor as she walks to my door and lets herself out. I didn't even stop her, not at any point did I even attempt to make her stay. She needed this. She needed a reason to walk away, but I'm going to give her a reason to come back.

I changed into a plain white top and my skinny jeans, walking into the kitchen to clean whatever mess was left. The leftover pancakes were cold, so by picking up the plate I scraped them into the bin. The rest of the plates were placed into the dishwasher and the timer turned on to clean them. I straightened my duvet, I flung myself onto the bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling. Oh how the mighty will fall.

Grace's POV:

The fucking arse. I'm just trying to make sure he's wholeheartedly doing this, that he really wants to. There is no point doing something if you're not 100% involved. But no, he kicks me out. I'm not wanting him to stay because of me, I don't know what I'd do with myself if he missed out on this because of me. I think he needs time away from me. He needs to figure out his priorities because of course this is his dream and I am merely a distraction. That's what I was to him. I was his in between, from work to the nights out. I was the in between. This time I refuse to be the muddied doormat.

After walking back to mine, scantily clad, with multiple judgemental looks. I would be lying if I said that they didn't phase me. Of course they did, I'm still me for goodness sake. Only when I'm with Harry do I have the confidence to not have a single worry about what people could possibly think. Whilst that is fun and easy, I need to learn to find my own way there, instead of depending on another male to discredit my deepest insecurities. My body is my home, my thoughts are my own and I need to prevent every one being tampered with by them. I'm tired.