Staying with the Styles'

Chapter 12

"I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HARRY!!"

"LOUIS!!!!!"

"ONE DIRECTION I LOVE YOU!"

I'm with the boys at a signing of theirs and all of the fans are going nuts, as usual.

The boys are sitting at a long table, and I'm standing a few feet behind the table. The long line of fans stretches from where the table is, around the side, behind me, and then around the other side, making the full circle multiple times.

I came without the other girlfriends, so I've been standing by myself for the past two hours, other than the few time I was asked to take pictures with fans.

"Hey babe." Harry says, standing up and walking over to me. It looks like they're having a short break.

Harry places his hands on my waist, "You bored yet?"

I shake my head no (even though I am quite bored) and reach my arms around his neck. He lowers his face to mine and gives me a slow kiss on the lips.

"Bitch"

"Slut"

"Cow"

I hear voices from behind me.

I pull away from the kiss and Harry gives me a funny look.

"I think you guys are getting ready to start back up." I explain, giving Harry a small smile.

He nods and walks back to the table, where the other boys are getting ready to start again.

I look behind me to see a group of teenage girls smirking and laughing at me.

I decide to just leave it alone, but I feel a little sick, so I hurry to the bathroom.

Once I'm in a stall I try to keep myself calm. I know what they said wasn't anything that bad, but people's words get to me so easily. Pathetic, I know.

I pull my dress up my thighs a little bit and look at them. Faded parallel scars line the tops of my thighs. On top of an eating disorder, I used to cut myself.

When I hated myself more than usual, I would cut. It was both a punishment for me being so disgusting, and a way of showing myself how worthless I was. When emotions were bubbling inside of me, I would cut. When I didn't know where else to turn, I would cut.

I haven't done that to myself in a little over a year, but I still don't have the confidence to move on from my past.

However, I don't really like to dwell on it, so I try to pull myself together and then I leave the washroom.

When I walk back to wear the signing is, Harry gives me a worried look but I just smile and walk back to where I had been standing before. Thankfully, the girls who were rude to me have moved far down the line and the rest of the signing goes without any issues.

- - -

The next two weeks go on as usual, but the hate from fans still bothers me. I don't even know if I would call them fans. True One Direction fans wouldn't be this rude about Harry being happy.

But their comments make me wonder if Harry really is happy. He's a world famous singer. I'm nobody, and somehow I think I can just go and date him?

The last straw comes when I'm at the mall with Harry and I'm flipping through a magazine when I see an article titled "Harry's Girl: pretty or pudgy?"

The article contains pictures of Harry and I at the beach last week. I'm in a bandeau bikini top, and bikini bottoms.

The writer is wondering whether my thighs are fat or muscular. But then she mentions my fairly toned stomach, and I start to feel better.

Then, right on cue, I flip the page to see a picture of me in a side-by-side comparison with Harry's ex-girlfriends, stating that I'm not "his type."

I hurry to find Harry, not wanting to be here anymore.

"Harry can we please head home now?" I ask, pleading with my eyes.

"Sure, love, let me just grab a couple more things and then we can-"

"No. Now. I want to leave now." I choke, tears threatening to spill out of my eyes.

Harry doesn't question me and we walk out to his car, not talking the whole way home.

When we pull into the garage, I jump out of the car and run into the house. Harry runs in behind me, calling my name.

"Leah, baby, what's wrong?"

"I want to be alone!" I call back, running upstairs and slamming my bedroom door once I'm in.

I pace back and forth in my room, not knowing what to do. I walk over to my closet and look in the full-length mirror. God I hate myself.

All of a sudden my phone is being throw from my hand and is heading towards my mirror.

"Why can't I just ever be enough?!" I scream as my phone hits the glass.

The glass on the mirror cracks and shatters where it was hit and instantly, I freeze.

I stare at the mirror in shock, horrified at what I've just done. I'm going to get in so much trouble.

"What's going on?"

I hear Harry come in, his voice filled with worry.

His footsteps stop behind me, and I see his reflection in the cracked mirror. He's just as shocked as I am.

"Leah? What's wrong?" He asks me, coming closer and grabbing my hand so that I turn to face him.

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't cry it's going to be okay." He says, wiping my cheek with his thumb. I hadn't even realized that I was crying.

"Harry... I just... I want to be alone."

"Just tell me what's going on. Please?"

"Get out." I tell him, really just wanting to be alone and not have him see me like this.

A look of hurt forms on his already shocked face, but he doesn't move.

I take a deep breath, "Please just go."

Harry slowly nods and then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

I'm left alone like I wanted to be, but now I feel even worse. Harry was genuinely concerned about me.

Sighing, I head over to the mirror and start to clean up the glass.

- - -

Hey guys! I hope this is okay. I'm so sorry for taking so long to update.

This chapter would have been better, but my first time I did it, it didn't save properly and this one just didn't turn out the same.

Anyways, vote, comment, and enjoy!