Songs:
Jealous/ Broken-Hearted Girl: Beyonce
Boy: Little Mix
Gravity: Chris Brown
Where Did The Feeling Go?: Selena
A.J.'s POV
I stood from my seat after an hour and a half of waiting for, Harry. I blew out the candles I had lit before I began my wait. They had already dwindled into half sticks, wax falling over onto the table. Not that I cared at this point. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the beautiful wood table, not the stupid dinner I had made for him, not him or me, us. It was all crap now. It was nothing.
I left the dining room, I was tired of waiting for, Harry. I still held onto the slightest sliver of hope that he would walk through the door at any moment. I thought of every possible scenario of why he could be late until I finally decided, he wasn't here because he didn't want to be.
I had grabbed the bottle of wine from where it had sat next to me during my wait, not bothering to grab a glass. I made my way to the living room, turning on some music before I plopped myself on the couch. I kicked my heels off while I simultaneously opened the stupid bottle of wine. I didn't know if I was going to drink any yet, but opening it felt good. It felt right.
Once again I was home alone, like every night it seemed like. I spun the bottle in my hands, still contemplating if I should drink it or not. I really wasn't in the mood to drink, but I also had nothing better to do. Finally, after deciding against a drunken night, I set the bottle down on the coffee table. I noticed the picture frame sitting next to it.
Harry was standing behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist and his chin resting on my shoulder. His smile was reaching from ear to ear. Louis had taken it the day we had moved in together in his apartment, which seemed like such a long time ago, now. I ran my fingers over our happy faces, before everything went to shit. Now it just felt like we were college roommates. He came and went as he pleased and I stayed home, hoping that he wouldn't come home too late or too drunk.
I always let it go. I held back my want or need to cry or reproach him on anything. I knew he was still hurting. I knew in the back of my head that he was still grieving the loss.
"You're hurting too," I spoke to the girl in the picture who looked so incredibly happy.
I suddenly felt jealous of her. Jealous of myself. I gripped the frame tightly until my knuckles turned white. I let out a loud scream as a single tear fell onto the glass before I threw it across the room. I heard the glass shatter as it hit the wall before crumbling to the floor in small pieces. I got up from my spot on the couch and headed to the master bathroom in my room. I flickered on the lights, scaring myself as I saw the reflection in the mirror.
Staring back at me was someone I didn't quite recognize. My exterior was flawlessly made up, my makeup was perfect, not even the few tears I had just shed had ruined it and not a single strand of hair was out of place. It was a vast contrast from the real person I was internally. Inside, a girl with crazy hair, smudged makeup and ratty clothes who was slowly going insane was begging to escape.
I quickly removed my makeup, making sure every trace of the red lipstick, Harry loved was gone. I let my hair down, fixing it slightly, letting it fall naturally wherever it pleased before stripping out of the dress I had decided on because I knew it was, Harry's favorite. I heard my phone ring from the nightstand where I had left it charging so no one would interrupt our dinner.
It was a text from, Sammy asking if, Harry and I wanted to go out with her and Niall for an impromptu birthday party for, Chris. They were going to meet up with the rest of our friends at some nightclub. I quickly texted her back, letting her know I would meet them there, leaving out the fact that I was flying solo. I went to my closet, rummaging through the countless dresses hanging, unused and unwanted, really.
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Hollow (Harry Styles) #Wattys2016
FanfictionI cupped her face in my hands, rubbing my thumbs in circles over her cheeks. She was having trouble finding words to describe what she felt, and I could relate. I loved her more than words could describe and telling her I loved her was almost an ins...