One Direction Imagines/Preferences :) (REQUESTS CLOSED)

Harry Imagine for @bwiloveharrystyles

Imagine for Brooke. I should get a personal stamp that says "Sorry this is so late!" because I've been saying that a lot lately... Well, here it is!

***Brooke's P.O.V***

Harry and I were notorious for our fighting. We had only been dating for a year, but we've had more fights than I can count using both hands. We just knew how to get under each others' skin. It was an unhealthy part of our relationship, but we were trying to work things out.

Unfortunately, our plans don't always work the way we think they are. For here we are again, standing on opposite sides of the room, screaming insults at each other. What started the fight? You know, after four hours of this, I forgot what even instigated the feud.

"Don't you dare say I don't do anything around this house!" Harry screamed, pointing his finger at me. His face was slowly turning a shade of red that I had never seen before.

"Why not?! You don't! I cook! I clean! I do the laundry! I pay the bills! YOU eat! YOU throw your dirty clothes everywhere!"

"I make all the money here, thank you, while you sit on your lazy arse and do nothing!"

"Are you fucking kidding, Harry?! Did I not just explain all that I frickin do around the house?! Maybe if you were here more, you'd see that!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he scoffed, moving so that we were standing on opposite ends of the couch, the front door to our right and out TV to the left.

"It means how you go on tour for months, and then come home, sleep for endless hours, and then go party with the boys. I never see you anymore, and it's starting to take its toll on me. Physically and emotionally!"

"That's bullshit! You're just being a drama queen! Like usual!" he shouted. I felt my nostrils flare, and I clenched my fists around the pillow on the couch. Harry knew I hated being called a drama queen. My friends already teased me enough with that label, and high school was a wreck because it was "my reputation" there. There was a giant spider in the classroom one day. Excuse me for freaking out and jumping on a desk.

"I am NOT a drama queen!" I yelled. "You are being an ass right now, Harry. You are so not sleeping in that bedroom tonight."

"Fine by me! Then I won't have to wake up to that morning breath and troll-like face of yours!"

"You little-," I mumbled, picking up the pillow and launching it at him. The pillow hit him right in the face, and he stumbled back a bit, rubbing his eye.

"Bitch!" he yelled, grabbing the nearest thing to him, which happened to be a coffee mug, and throwing it at me. I ducked at the last minute, and the mug crashed into the wall behind me, shards spraying all over the floor.

I glanced behind me at the shattered cup, and then turned to stare incredulously at Harry, who had a glint of guilt in his eyes. "You inconsiderate moron! That almost hit me! I could have died!" I screamed, my voice cracking from the volume of my voice combined with how many hours I've been screaming. I grabbed my book that was lying on the coffee table and threw it at him. He caught it in his hands and launched it back.

I moved to duck the incoming object, but my foot slipped on the carpet, and I stumbled. My book hit me on my temple, and I fell backwards, my hand landing on a piece of the broken mug. I gasped in pain, and closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see the blood.

"Brooke!" Harry cried out, all anger gone. Concern was laced with his words, and when I opened my eyes, all I saw was worry dancing in his eyes. He reached out to me, but I scrambled backwards, the glass digging into my hand. I hissed in pain. "Brooke, let me-."