I write to you because...

Chapter Thirteen<3

(I'll spell check tomorrow x )

Chapter Thirteen <3

Harry~

A new voice came in today. I recognise it from somewhere. It was soft, sweet even, but-

Shut up.

I internally flinch, the words startling me. My diary has remained unwritten for weeks, and so I catalogue my pain in my head until I wake up-

You don't deserve to wake up.

Do you remember what you did to him?

Of course I do.

I walked into the empty conference room, frowning at the three men behind a petite woman.

"What?" I had snapped, hoping to leave sooner to meet Louis for our meal; he had something important to tell me.

The woman took a deep breath and motioned I sat. I did, confused at her false attempt of a respectful action.

"You are probably wondering why you're here," She says, as if it already wasn't obvious. Slowly, I looked from one face to another, contemplating just standing up and leaving; I had plans with Louis.

"I-"

"It's Louis,"

I paused, shock then denial passing my face.

I asked hesitantly,"What about him?"

She paused for a moment, indulging a large gulp of air before speaking,"He doesn't exactly want to be with you,"

My lack of response must have been the cause of the unsettled atmosphere that surrounded us, thick and almost suffocating.

"What?" I snorted, "Are you really sinking that low?"

"It is the truth," She insisted, "We thought it would be best to tell you before he breaks your heart in front of hundreds of cameras."

I argued like a child, "He wouldn't break my heart,"

A tired, prolonged sigh escaped her bright pink lips as a small hand cupped her forehead.

"Harry-"

"No," I fought, "He wouldn't-"

"But he is," She said firmly, "He doesn't care for you in that way, he's trying to make the news subtle in public."

My eyes cast downwards to the shiny floor and brimmed with tears; Why would he do that?

Louis had been acting different around me, I don't understand how I never noticed it.

"He doesn't love you, Harry; And he won't."

Louis didn't need to break my heart, the job was already done.

I stood him up.

He waited, and waited, and he waited.

But I didn't show. I never stepped foot out of Niall's apartment, out of the spare bedroom.

My phone constantly alerted me of new messages, or incoming calls, yet I ignored them. I knew who it was, and I had no desire to talk to him. I anxiously waited, waited for the door to swing open with my brown-haired prince storming through, insisting everything was okay.