Harry Styles Imagines

Close As Strangers Part 2

This imagine isn't mine

Your ragged breathing is the only sound that fills the room, your shared room with Harry to be exact.
"Pathetic." You mumble to yourself, swiping loose tears away from your cheeks. You gulp loudly as you shake your head, more tears coming down.
Anger should be coursing through your veins right now, but all that's in you is a shredded heart and screwed up emotions. You should be angry, but you can't until you've had your hurt. Anger is a secondary emotion to being hurt, however it feels as though you've been torn apart for far too long.
Gathering the minuscule amount of strength you still bear, you hoist yourself up from the ground to your feet and breathe out.
The room's still a mess with Harry's shirts scattered across the bed, different pairs of boots out in various places. Even his hairbrush is lying on your side of the bed. But you can't sleep there tonight, oh no. You won't be able to rest in the same room you just fought in.
You need air, something fresh to breathe in both physically and emotionally. The closet opens up to hold a duffle bag and so you begin to stuff it with clothes.
The stupid shit's probably already at the pub. You think to yourself. I hope he trips on one of his damn boots.
While toiletries and other items shoveled in as well, you sniffle up, glancing around to figure if you need anything else. You're not even sure where you're headed, but it will be far away from the flat for a while.
It left you bemused, how quickly things can change. A few months ago, things were splendid with Harry. There was not a single doubt floating through your mind that he did not love you. Now it's all you've got stuck inside.
Love. You chortle to yourself. A word he would tell you, call you and reassure you that he did so. Lately, there's been an absence of love from Harry and you wonder why it's taken so long for you to figure it out.
Gripping the strap of the bag, you clear out of the room. Giving it one last gaze, you blink away the tears that form in your eyes and exit the flat with what's left of you.
It takes you a bit of time to determine where you're going. You'd go to your best friend's but she had been incredibly busy lately and you didn't want to burden her. Your parents weren't an option seeing as you don't want to involve them in your personal problems with Harry, at least not yet.
Sighing, you start the engine and drive off to the one flat you know of that you trust;
Gemma's.
She took you in with open arms, sympathy flashing across her face. You had been confiding in her about your feelings and in return she tried to ease the pain by slowly asking Harry about it, little by little so it wasn't large. Obviously he didn't think much about it.
"Tea?" She inquires as you sit huddled on her couch, her cat Olivia coming up right beside you.
"U-Uhm, sure. I haven't had anything to drink in a while so..."
She nods, heading off to the kitchen. You're contemplative in her living room, wondering what the hell you're going to do about the situation.
Forgiving him would be no easy feat, it almost seems out the window at the moment. He went too far with leaving the flat, his words left you bleeding.
But you can't ever picture a future without him, that might even hurt more than having to forgive him.
You gulp and stare away as you accidentally made eye contact with a photo of Harry and Gemma on the table. This is going to be difficult in the least.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Gemma enters the room with two cups of tea in hand, "I mean, you don't have to but I figure if you do tell me then it'll be easier for me to help you."
You take a kitten sip and breathe out, trying not to cry again.
"I told him how I felt about him never quite being here.." You trail off as she hums.
"and he called me clingy, said I was overreacting about the whole situation, to which I told him that I just wanted to be able to have him around without being so distant.."
She sips on her own cup whilst gazing at you, but you stare at her hardwood floors.
"and he told me that he doesn't like being here anymore. He accused me of not having trust and suggested he truly is tired of me."
You watch as her face falls, mouth becoming slightly ajar as her eyebrows crinkle in disgust.
"I.. he-he can't have.." You nod softly, tears sprinkling your lap.
"Y/N, love, there's no way he could have meant-"
"I wouldn't be here if he hadn't said those things." You mutter back, not daring to look at her.
She sighs exasperatedly, anger growing towards her younger brother.
"That bloody idiot."
-
With a drink stapled to his hand, Harry sits broken on the floor of your living room, wondering where it all went wrong.
Everything is bleak, colours are now mushed together to make one dull grey.
You vanished from him as quickly as he could blink and he hasn't had any contact since.
His lips tremble as he thinks back to that night, remembering the light slip away from your eyes as he continued to spew words to defeat. He blinks hastily to stop tears from falling out, but they peak out anyways, travelling down to his chin and below.
It's been four days since he's seen you. Four days since he's heard your voice, smelt your scent, felt your skin, lips on his.
He has hardly slept or eaten anything. The most he got was a couple bowls of cereal or water next to his alcohol. He can't process the flavour of his make-shift meals since they cannot be enjoyed without you. He drinks to pass out, only to wake up with an even bigger pain in his head.
But what hurt most to him was the daunting thought of never being able to wake up next to you again. Mornings with you are his favourite.
The light would be streaming in and hitting your skin in just the right way, your body pressed up against his peacefully. Everything would be quiet, everything would be just right. It's just you and him in that bedroom, nothing more but happiness.
Now he wakes up a mess, eyes always puffy from crying and a weight on his chest. He can't ever be without you.
Beside him, his phone rings. It's Niall trying his best not to sound cheery.
"Hey Harry, just callin' to see how yur doin', if everything's okay."
"They're not." He replies horsely, not knowing if they ever will be.
"She still hasn't come back?"
"No, she has it." Harry seethes.
"I can try calling her again-"
"She won't pick up. She's smarter than that, you know."
Niall sighs on the other end, "I know. But it wouldn't hurt to-"
"Fine. Call her. If by some miracle she picks up, you better make the best out of that phone call." With that, he hangs up. He doesn't mean to be snappy but he can't really handle anything at the moment and he's having problems thinking straight without you.
Harry breathes out, silence overtaking the room once again. He's overwhelmed with his emotions as he downs the rest of the drink, wondering if he should refill it. There's a throbbing in his chest from missing you too much, but it's also one of regret.
The clock in front of him mocks his emotions. He has progressively gotten worse as the seconds went on, hope shaved off with each tick.
The first day, he was hopeful. He was convinced he'd see you peek your head through the bedroom, stand away but eventually talk things out and you'd be by his side that night. You weren't.
On his second, he felt nervous. His calls to you went straight to voicemail and you kept off any social media. It was as if you fell off the face of the earth for a bit. Nevertheless, he knew you were safe. He just wanted to see for himself that you were.
The third day came and his hope began to fall. He had called not only the mutual friends you both had but the boys and his family. Their answers were the same; they didn't know and they were going to hope for the best for the two of you.
However they did know, they knew exactly where you were. But at the request of you, for now, they lied knowing that if this was their situation, they definitely would not want Harry to find out.
So here he is now, day four with a torn up heart and wishing for some sign that you'd forgive him.
He shuts his eyes and rolls his head back, trying to piece himself together. This peacefulness only lasts so long before his ringtone plays out again. He yanks it from the ground, only to have his face soften once he sees it's his mother over FaceTime.
"Harry." Anne speaks sympathetically.
"Mum."
"Oh, sweetheart." She studies his appearance, noting the agony on his face. "How're you feeling?"
"Everything hurts."
She frowns, "You should clean yourself up a bit. I know you're feeling poorly but a cleansing in the shower wouldn't hurt."
"Water isn't going to fix this, mum."
"I know you say that but you at least need to keep proper hygiene. Take care of yourself before you take care of someone or something else."
Harry's eyes become glassy. What if you do come back, what if you don't? You have to though, he thinks. Your stuff is still here.
"What if she doesn't? She's left, mum. Why would she want to come back? She's gone." He says, a sob breaking out at the thought.
"Love," She feels her own heart breaking at the sight.
"What if I've lost her? I screwed up and said things I don't even mean and she won't even talk to me."
"H, love, don't cry." Anne tells him, struggling on a response. "You haven't lost her, she loves you, you know that."
"I don't even know where she is." He heaves out, beginning to soak his shirt.
"She'll be back, I know it."
He doesn't speak as she continues, "Why you said those words, I don't know. But I know you don't mean them so you need to show her how you feel when she gets there."
"If she gets here."
"When she gets there, darling." Anne corrects him. She knows something he doesn't, of course.
"Now go clean yourself up, you don't want to stink when she arrives."
"Why are you so sure she's coming?"
"Because she loves you and you love her. Despite all this, that's never going away."
-
"I've stayed here long enough." You insist, folding some of your clothes.
"I can't let you stay at an AirBnB, that's ridiculous!" Gemma shouts, shaking her head at you.
You don't reply, placing the clothing into your small bag.
"Y/N." She calls out.
"Y/N!" The second time you're forced to look up at her.
"You're either staying here or going back to your flat. But I don't know that the latter is a second option for you right now."
Gemma stands in front of the door with crossed arms and a look of conquest on her face. She's right, you both know that.
However, you feel like your stay has been for too long, even though both she and Anne pleased that you would remain at Gemma's flat till you felt alright. But you weren't, just last night you were curled on her couch with tears and a random film on.
You bite your lip and sigh, letting go of the zipper on the duffle bag.
"I haven't even got anymore clean clothes to wear."
"Then borrow some of mine!"
"I can't take your clothes, Gem. I've taken too much of your things. I can go get some more, he's probably not even home right now."
It had been tricky, contemplating when he'd be home and when he wouldn't. You were supposed to last night, but, well.
"I'll go for you, let me." She sticks her hand out for your keys but you don't allow her to.
"No, no. You've done so much for me, too much. I can handle a simple clothing run." You protest, knowing full well of the possible issues that would arise. But you can't let her after everything else she's done.
"Y/N, if he-"
"If he's there," You say, swallowing hesitantly, "then he's there."
"You-uh..." She sighs, placing her hands on her hips.
"It'll be fine." You tell her, though you aren't all too convinced yourself either.
Although she loved seeing you with Harry, she would never force you to do anything on your relationship with Harry. You're one of her good friends before her brother's girlfriend. Though she suggested you actually talking it out with him, you weren't ever obligated to by her.
Gemma reaches out for a tight hug, one you needed terribly. It was difficult sleeping without Harry's arms around yours, hardly having any embrace at all was unbearable.
-
"You're trashing your liver." You tell him whilst watching him refill his glass.
"Gah! Fuck!" He drops the glass out of shock. You're not actually there with him, however.
"Should I be concerned that you keep popping up like this?"
You shrug, "It's out of your own guilt. Clear your conscious and maybe I'll disappear."
"I don't want you to leave me." He murmurs, bending down to pick up the glass. Though clumsy him, he nicks the palm of his hand with the smallest piece.
"Well, the physical me might come back, I mean. But me in your head, I'll stop visiting."
"Fuck." He mumbles to himself, thick blood seeping out and onto the ground. He throws the shards into the trash before aiding his hand with a gauze and some antiseptic.
"Ahh." He seethes for the second time that night, pressing cotton to the cut. It's larger than he thought, all from glass.
"Why haven't you come back yet." He speaks out loud to you, who watches him fix his hand.
"I need time," You pout, "you know that."
"Yes, but," He glances over to you, "I don't know how much longer I can do it without you."
"You seemed fine in LA all those times without me."
"But that's because I knew I could talk to you. Now I'm not even sure if you'll talk to me again."
"I will." You chortle, "My stuff is still here."
"I just.." He sighs, "I need to be able to fix things with you, let me."
"I'll let you." You say before disappearing again, leaving Harry on his own again. He glances in the bathroom mirror, disgusted by what's in front of him. He really does look like hell. His stomach growls from under him, requiring a proper meal. But he can't be bothered to cook something decent, he'd want to set a table for two.
Returning to the living room, Harry finds a surprise; you, the real you, with your keys in hand and a look of mixed emotions on your face.
"Y/N!" He exclaims, shocked to say the least.
"Harry." You reply a bit more glumly.
This is the first you've seen him in days, and he didn't look so great. His hair is greasy from not being washed, bags so prominent they could be sold for Balenciaga under his eyes. His lips are dry from lack of hydration and he is pale, oh so pale from lack of well, being healthy.
"You came back." He says, satisfied. He strides over to you with a hug in tact. But you don't return it.
"I just came for more clothes.." You whisper, causing him to pull away. The light in his eyes that was there for a mere moment flicked away.
"Y-You're not staying?"
"What did you expect? That I'd come running back?" You furrow your eyebrows, blinking rapidly at him.
His face falters from relief to grief, "N-No.. just that we could talk things out, you know..."
"Last time we did that, you left." You almost laugh.
He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, too busy trying to formulate the proper response. You push past him and onto the bedroom, only to have him call you back.
"Let me fix this, please."
You give him a look of confusion before turning around. Harry grabs your forearm and turns you back.
"Before you go, please." He pleads, eyes full of hope.
You sigh, allowing him to pull you back into the living room. He moves his hands down to yours, taking them as they fit.
"I-I messed up, I really fucked up. I know that. And, and you've got no reason to forgive me so easily, but, I'm sorry, Y/N. I really am."
"Have you been drinking?" You inhale the alcohol dripping off of his lips.
His face falters, "Y-Yes, just two glasses, nothing too terrible, but that's not the point." He meets your eyes with his, never breaking contact.
"I-I didn't mean any of it, what I said back then. I take it all back."
You chortle, "You said you'd prefer to be elsewhere rather than where your actual girlfriend is."
"And I didn't mean that, I swear I didn't. You-You've got to believe me." He guides your hand up so that it is cupping his left cheek.
"I was being so, so, stupid Y/N. You don't know how much I wish I could actually time travel right now, so that I can take back all those weeks of being the biggest idiot and give you all the love that you deserve."
You take your hand away from his cheek, his eyes dropping terribly whilst his heart does as well.
"Why do I feel like you meant it when you thought I didn't trust you?" Your voice is so soft, almost cracking at the loss of contact.
"I know you trust me completely, I have no doubts of that. But I," He stares down at the necklace around your neck. It's the one he gave on your two year anniversary, it's been on your neck ever since.
"I don't know why I said those things."
"So you were lying, the entire night?" Harry swallows, knowing how pathetic his argument is.
"Then why'd you lie?" Both you and him knew of the honesty policy that was embedded in your relationship. The truth and nothing but the truth is required.
"Just to win." He almost snorts at how stupid he sounds, at how big of a jerk he is.
"So that's it?" You have to stop yourself from laughing, "You broke my heart just to get under my skin, took everything I had been crying over as a joke just to have the last word in an argument?"
"You have every right to be upset-"
"Damn right I have every right to be upset!" You raise your voice, stepping farther away from him to throw your hands up in the air. "I have every right to leave you right now, Harry. Do you realise that?" He nods his head respectively, allowing you to let everything out.
"Harry, I-I... I don't even know what the fuck to think right now. You, you made me think you didn't want to be with me anymore, and now you're telling me it was all a lie and that I'm all you want?!"
You pace around in a small circle, practically livid.
"I do have every right to leave you. I might just because of how fucking ridiculous you are, Harry Styles." You glare over at him, breathing heavily.
"Please don't leave me." He whimpers, tears brimming from the edges of his green irises.
"Why shouldn't I? You obviously couldn't handle a situation as big as this with enough care in your brain to even take anything I was actually saying into account."
"I love you, baby, I do and-"
"You can't just whisper sweet nothings like that in hopes that I'll be yours again." You tell him, though more calmly this time.
"These past four days were the worst in my life and if-if that's what I'm supposed to have for the rest of my life," Water finally flowing down his face, "seeing the world as flat, lifeless, tasting nothing but regret and not being able to feel contentment again, then.." He pulls your hand to his, which you allow, "then I'd rather not see the world at all."
"You're being a bit too ridiculous-"
"I'm not, Y/N. I'm not. I was in hell, I mean look at me!" He gestures to his disheveled physique, "I'm not myself without you. I'm really not."
You feel a tear drop into your hand as he pushes his lips together, sniffling.
"I don't deserve to have you forgive me and go back to the way things were. But I can't ever live life as I did before I met you, everything has changed and for the better when I am with you."
Your face softens despite trying to keep a hard stare. Seeing him cry is the one thing you can't handle.
"You really hurt me, Harry."
"I know," He whispers, pushing your hand to his face yet again. Your thumb swipes the free tears.
"I know baby, and I'm sorry. What I'm telling you is not enough to show that I am, but if I'm going to be the one you fell in love with again, I promise."
You're crying now as well, face scrunching up at his words.
"Whatever it takes, I am going to do. Wherever you'd like to be, London, Paris, Canada if for some reason the mood strikes you," You both giggle, "we'll be there. I'll be right next to you, always reminding you of how much I love you. Of how much you mean to me, which is so much more than any job."
You lick your now dry lips, enjoying the sound of his apology.
"Please don't leave me, Y/N. I'll be better, I'll be here. I promise."
"You're the love of my life, darling." He whispers, leaning close enough so that your foreheads are touching.
"Please stop crying, H." You speak gently with the smallest voice.
He shakes his head, "I love you." You remain quiet, your eyes full of sadness as they bore into his.
"Say it back, angel. I know you do. Say it back." Harry begs, clutching your face in his hands, eyes shutting for a moment.
"I need time, Harry." You tell him, his eyes opening again.
"We've got all the time in the world, we've got forever, love. If you let me spend it with you."
You chuckle, relaxing into his touch.
"I'll let you."
-
Six days.
It took a total of six days for you to say "I love you" to him again.
Within those six days, Harry had been very respectful of your wishes to remain distant. It amused both of you, the irony. First you wanted no distance, but now you required a bit of it.
It began with speaking, mostly revealing your feelings to each other, a feeling of togetherness that hadn't been there in a while. This is what you've been missing from him and one of the things you enjoyed the most about him; his mind.
It had been weeks since you both shared words from the nooks and crannies of your mind but you could be nonetheless thankful to have it back.
Another day and a half passed before you slept in the same bed as him. He was very patient, no sex, just cuddling. His strong arms tugged you close to him, enveloping you in what would be your favourite position.
He couldn't be happier to have you back. Colours returned to his life as well. You were glad to be there to make sure he didn't cut his hand again, silly man.
A kiss only came you if you implied that you wanted him too, but God did he miss your lips. He had gone almost two weeks without feeling them and his withdrawals were almost unhealthy. Compliments would wash over the cuts of pain made over the last few months. Harry would never fail to remind you of how much he loves you.
He hadn't touched you either, understanding that making love comes with intimacy which you weren't all that ready for yet again with him. As much as you wanted to, you both needed to wait before diving right back into it.
But it was your sixth day that you let him make love to you, and the wait made it even more special.
"I'm going to show you just how much I love you. Let me, please." He mumbled against your skin, your moans coming out for him to go on.
He made the night all about you, giving you the most pleasure you've ever had in your life. He made sure to remind you of how lovely you are, telling you that you will never know just how beautiful you are to him.
"Harry," You gasped at the contentment of his touch. You clawed at his back as he was slow, attentive and passionate.
"I love you." He spoke finally, bringing your body closer to his.
"I love you." You reminded him, breathing out of euphoria.
And as he held you close without the requirement of words to reassure either of you, Harry made sure to never let any distance touch the unbreakable love made in between.

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