Harry’s POV.
VMAs, 2013.
Ouch. Low blow.
There she is, hating me with every fiber of her stunning being, in front of millions across the world. But I don’t care, because I deserve it. That navy blue dress is clinging to her familiar hips, and the cut out in between her breasts is killing me.
She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman in this huge arena. She’s the fairest of them all; a tall, blonde haired, blue-eyed version of Snow White.
The way she had said it doesn’t hurt so bad, but what hurts the most is knowing how much pain was behind those words is what stings. “This is just awesome. I also wanna thank the person who inspired this song—who knows exactly who he is—‘cause now I got one of these!” she said just moments ago, gesturing to her newly awarded moon man.
I clap for her, genuinely proud of her success. I am so very proud of her.
Then, once I know the camera is off of me, I allow myself to reflect on my own horrid mistakes.
Three months earlier.
Her smile brightens when she notices me sitting here, waiting for her in this small café booth. It smells warm. If that’s a scent, I’m not sure, but that’s how I would describe it if you asked. A fire ignites inside my stomach when she plops down next to me, giggling. Her lips immediately find mine, and she gives a small, lovely peck before hugging me.
“I love you,” I want to whisper into her hair. But I don’t, because that would destroy me. Giving her my heart scared the hell out of me. She’s known for stomping the shit out of them when she’s finished.
Of course, I know that is not at all who Taylor really is, but I’m still afraid. This beautiful, intoxicating woman, scares me. How pathetic is that?
“Hi,” she chimes. My lips burst out of a thin line into an all-teeth smile. She lets go of our embrace and looks right into my eyes. I wonder what exactly she sees in them, because slowly, her smile falls. “Are you alright, babe?”
Babe. I love that. I love her. And I know it’s too late to jump ship. I’m stuck.
“I’m fine,” I lie. My stomach is only a burning fireplace because you have a horribly intense effect on me, my mind adds.
Taylor’s small ponytail bobs as she nods, not pressing me further. She knows when I don’t want her to pry, and my expression must tell her that she’s better off not to ask.
My hand grabs her much smaller, dainty one. “I missed you so much, love.”
She smiles once more, her electric blue eyes shining, and her thumb rubs against the back of my hand. “I wanted to fly out to visit you so many times. Grant had to grab my shoulders and shake me to my senses.” She giggled again. Oh God, I love her. “He was like, ‘Taylor, come on! Do you really want the media to find out everything? Do you really want all the hate again? Because if you fly out to see him, they’ll find out, and everything will go back to suck-ville.’ So, sadly, I had to wait a few more weeks, but here we are! I can touch you, I can kiss you, because you’re here!” Her voice mimicked a deeper voice when she imitated Grant. I can’t help it, I laugh.
“I wish you would’ve come, anyways,” I say. I know I shouldn’t have said it out loud. Those thoughts belong safely locked away in my head, but I couldn’t stop myself. Her bright and optimistic eyes were charming me.
