Collide. {Harry Styles Fanfiction}

Authors Note: Please read,

This is just the prologue for you to kind of get an understanding of where I'm going with this story, I understand it's extremely short!  

I also want to get across the fact that this story will have some content some of you may not enjoy.  Ex: Self Harm/intercourse scenes.  

Also, I will be making dedications in each chapter to my followers.  You guys are wonderful <3

Enjoy the story!  xx

Jade Irene Delaney

**Five Years Prior**

"Hey, you better call!" I said to the boy with the emerald eyes jokingly.

"I promise,"  He smiled crookedly, holding out his tanned pinkie.

"You better keep it,"  I laugh, and hook my pinkie into his.

"Jade, have I ever broken a promise?"  He speaks softly and smiles again, this time so wide his dimple pierces his cheek.

"Good luck,"  I breathe, and he tugs me into his warm embrace.

"I'll miss you,"  He murmurs into the nape of my neck and pulls away from the hug.

**Current Day**

That was the first promise he had ever broken, and it still tugged ever so gently at my heart until this very day.  I watched the boy I had been so familiar with at one time in my life slowly become a stranger. There was no longer a sparkle in his thin emerald eyes.  His smile replaced with a frown, and his laughter exchanged with silence.

Who was he?

"Oh how he's grown,"  My mother's eyes peer down lovingly at the boy on the television who once joined us at the dinner table, and spent his free time over at the house.

I didn't respond, this wasn't the Harry that I'd grown up with.  The cheeky lad who stole kisses, but only the peck-on-the-cheek kind and laced his fingers into yours when you were least expecting it. He was changed, and my mother was too blind to see.

I wrapped my arms around my knees, and stared glossily at the image on the television.  A fake smile there, a forced laugh there, a clenched jaw there.  A part of me felt it too, the agony he must feel. Waking every day to put on the same show, no escape until you're behind closed doors.  

I could feel tears just about to spill over, before my mother could notice I pushed the rims of my glasses upward and wiped them away with the sleeve of my cardigan.  

It was like I was just now just realizing, after four years of waiting I would never get that call.  I never cried though, ever.  A part of me just kept hoping, kept making excuses for him.

"I'm feeling ill,"  I whisper, and take off to my room before my mother can utter a word.

I shut the door behind me, my back pressed against it.  For the first time, I finally cried for him.  Not because of what he had now become but because of what I had become too.  

I tugged at the sleeve of my cardigan, flinching as the small pieces of string stuck to the open wounds.  My wrists were a battlefield, bloody and scarred.  I traced my indented wrists, something finally registered in my head.  I knew I had lost him when he left to the auditions, I just never wanted to admit it. 

But also, when I lost him.   I lost myself too.