Stars Leave Black Holes Behind [HS]

23

Valerie watched, with eyes like lasers, as Harry's fingers drifted over the films on the shelf. Was it fondness that played on Harry's lips? Was it?

Because these were his films, really.

These were his little treasures that he used to bring home to Val, bursting in through the door with a wide smile, hands clutched around a new box with knuckles as white as milk.

That had been his thing.

Maybe it still was.

And Valerie had loved it.

She hadn't really cared for the content itself, despite Harry's eagerness. No. She cared about the way his eyes lit up like fireworks, the way he pulled her in close to his chest as they snuggled on the sofa, all bent legs and crooked arms, with a cup of steaming black coffee between them as they stared at the screen.

Well. As Harry stared at the screen.

Val would watch him, instead. Watch his jawline and his freckles and his eyelashes, unblinking, for fear of missing a moment of him.

And now, as Harry's soft fingertips touched along each ridge, Valerie felt that painful and crippling sensation of loneliness. Of hurt. Of longing.

Because how do you tell a stranger you remember the freckles on their cheeks like the back of your hand? How do you tell a stranger that their voice makes you feel like you're burning up from the inside out? How do you tell a stranger that their mere breath has the ability to calm a storm and set the sun?

How do you tell a stranger that you love them?

Valerie didn't know.

Valerie just didn't. Fucking. Know.

All she knew was that she hated it when she couldn't hold in her loneliness. Hated it when these thoughts flowed out of her in waves that were too big, too heavy to stop.

She shook her head. Closed her eyes. Tried to breathe.

In and out, in and out, in and out.

"What about this one?"

His voice echoed in the room and Valerie opened her eyes, hair standing on end as his eyes bore into her own.

"You like this one, don't you Val?"

But Valerie couldn't even respond. Couldn't even remember that she had a voice.

Because he was holding up that film. Their second date film. When their bodies didn't quite fit together yet, knocking and jutting together in a beautiful awkwardness that Val wished she could go back to.

It was a time when Valerie was still Valerie, unadultered and untainted, a time when her heart still belonged inside her chest.

Oh yes. Valerie wanted to go back.

"Fuck yeah, I love that one," Zayn spoke from behind her.

But Val didn't flinch.

Neither did Harry.

Their eyes were locked, and it was like something hidden passed between them. Like they both knew the exact meaning behind that film and it was secret and it was beautiful and it was theirs. Only theirs. No one else's.

"Y-yeah. It's a good film."

Harry nodded, blinked, turned around, and began to fiddle with the television beside him.

Valerie let out her breath.

"You okay?" Zayn asked.

"Mhm."

"You sure?"

His lips were close to her ear, making sure Harry didn't hear him.

"Yes, Zayn. I'm fine."

"This isn't really bad for you? Because, like, I get if it is. You know. Weird and that."

"Zayn," Valerie moved to face him, blue against brown as she stared. "It's fine. Honestly. I'm okay."

Caramel eyes darted between hers before nodding, "Alright. If you say so."

Valerie rolled her eyes, nudging Zayn with her shoulder, maybe even smirked, and turned back to face Harry.

Except.

Harry wasn't by the telly anymore.

Harry wasn't actually in the room at all.

The warmth was gone.

Valerie, suddenly, softly, heard a door close.

Her bedroom door.

And so she got up, and she followed.

__

Song: I Found by Amber Run

"And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be, right in front of me, talk some sense to me."

--

ok so i kind of hate this chapter but you guys are legit not ready for the next one fuckckckckckc im screaming