"We only said goodbye with words. I died a hundred times"
Beep beep.
Fücking hell, my head. Groggily, I lift my head to better view my surroundings, squinting to block out the harshness of the sun's rays. Immediately, I realise I'm on the opposite end of my bed, fully clothed, and I can just smell the stench of alcohol emanating from my pores.
How much did I drink last night?
Getting up slowly, my body aches from the drunken injuries I've probably obtained whilst clumsily walking into furniture, and I reach blindly around my body for my phone.
4:12pm.
Christ, how long have I been sleeping for?
That's not the only thing I notice from the home screen. It appears that I have a message from an unrecognisable number.
Suddenly, everything comes flooding back. The phone call - to him. I called Harry, and despite not being able to speak to him, I felt compelled to stay on the line to him. I felt drawn in, and despite no words being exchanged, it was one of the most intimate moments I've encountered. That is until it ended.
I read over the text until I'm satisfied that I can take nothing more from it. I mean, surely it wouldn't be him? But it could be.
Dialling the number, I listen in a state of dread for the moment the other person picks up, and when it finally answers, a woman speaks.
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Ebony & Ivory [H.S]
FanfictionEbony & Ivory. Darkness and light. Two ends of the spectrum and somehow Harry Styles finds himself right in the midst of them both. How will he decide? Ebony Saville once considered as being strong willed and independent, though somewhere along t...