SPACES [Editing]

DENIAL: Warning Sign

The next few chapters will be named after the five stages of grief, mainly for Harry. One chapter does not necessarily constitute one stage, some stages last longer than the others.

THE BREAK UP IS NOT THE PLOT TWIST. It's something that has to happen before the big thing happens.

Song of the chapter:
- I Don't Wanna Love Somebody Else by A Great Big World

Louis Tomlinson

It's a Saturday and I woke up alone in our bed. Usually I would wake up earlier than Harry and cook breakfast but today's different. I put my shirt on and went down the stairs to find him cooking in the kitchen.

"You're up? Good morning, honey!" He smiled up at me as I went down the stairs.

"Morning," I said, rubbing my eyes. How'd he wake up so early? The sun's not even up yet!

"I figured I should make breakfast for a change since I haven't done anything for you in so long," he said, beating the eggs in the bowl.

I went to the living room and turned the TV on to look for something to distract myself with.

I've decided to make it less painful for the both of us, if that's even possible. I have been working overtime and I've let him spend time with his friends while I'm away. And I'm aware that he's been hanging out with James, in a friendly manner, but I pretend not to know. At the end of the day, we sleep on the same bed and I listen to him talk while he sleeps.

He makes an effort to reach out to me, I could tell by the little post-it notes that he leaves around the house and in my pockets. He also texts me while I'm at work, to which I always respond to. I could tell that he could sense the growing distance between us and I can't pretend not to notice him crying sometimes, especially when he thinks that I'm asleep and his back's facing me.

And I made myself believe that I wasn't in love with him. That he's going to be okay without me and that I'll be okay without him. That I don't need him and that he will be happier without me.

They were lies, I know, but the more you tell them, the more I convince myself that they're true. He's the most beautiful lie I ever let myself believe in.

"Lou? Can we talk? Please?" He called me from the kitchen. I walked over to where I was and looked at him. I could tell that he was just crying. I didn't even ask why.

"What's up?" I asked apathetically when it crushes me deep inside. I sat on the chair and read the newspaper to distract myself.

"Have I done something wrong?" He asks. And I hate that he assumes that it's his fault. It was never his fault.

"No. No you haven't." I answered honestly. If I was going to tell him one truth, that was going to be it. I don't want him to blame himself for anything.

"Then tell me. Tell me why you're being like this." He asked, tears forming in his eyes.

"Like what?" I turned my face away and read the papers. I couldn't bear seeing him like this.