<ul class="conversation_lines" style="outline: none 0px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); margin: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px; font-family: Courier, monospace; list-style: none; padding: 0px; color: #444444; text-align: left;">
<li class="chat_line" style="outline: none 0px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; list-style-type: none; padding: 0px 0px 6px;"><strong style="outline: none 0px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; margin-right: 4px; display: inline-block;">Harry:Gripping at the edges of the throw pillow tight enough to turn your knuckles an angry white, your head twitched minutely before you let your eyes fall shut and concentrated on your breathing. As overplayed as it was, focusing on the slow rise and fall of your chest and the whoosh coming and leaving from your nose was heavenly peaceful. “Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Harry sputtered, slapping his hands to his thighs. “Or, wait. I don’t even need to ask. Because everything I say is just so fucking irrelevant, huh? It’s alright if you don’t remember me planning this surprise homecoming party for Gem, but God forbid I ever accidentally make plans to bring you home a weekend you told Troy you were going to help him pull,” Harry stipulated harshly, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkling in disbelief. Roughly, his hands ran through his hair once, twice, three times before his left hand dropped to cup over his mouth, thumb crooked in to dig into the corner of his jaw. “What am I even doing here.” The words came out more as a statement than a question, Harry’s body already half turned in the direction of the front door before you called out a quick, “Harry, wait, I’m sorry.” And just like second nature, he whirled back to face you. “I’m sorry,” you reiterated. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you for inviting me, of course I’ll come home with you this weekend. Okay?” The ‘we’re good?’ went unspoken. Harry could only stare at you, lips pursed a minimal amount before he was ducking his head to hide the fact his eyes were turning glassy with pent up frustrated tears. “What are we even doing?” He wondered aloud after a moment’s pause, pinching his temples between his right left hand’s middle finger and thumb. His aggravation was starting to get the best of him, shoulders hunching up like they always did whenever he flicked into guarded mode, but there was a hint of defeat laced through his words, solidified by the sigh that followed after them. “What?” You asked, snipping the syllable short to keep your voice from catching. Your hands dropped to your sides, lips slightly parted. Harry scrunched up his eyes, digging the heels of his palms into them before dropping them back to his sides in a resigned manner. “I just. After all is said and done,” he explained lowly, striping the pad of his thumb against the hem of his shirt to keep from meeting your gaze. But his voice cracked regardless. “Is it ever enough?”</li>
<li class="chat_line" style="outline: none 0px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; list-style-type: none; padding: 6px 0px; background-color: #fdfdfd; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><strong style="outline: none 0px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); box-sizing: border-box; margin-right: 4px; display: inline-block;">Liam:Liam outstretched his arms as far up towards the ceiling as they could go, marveling at the way the ceiling lights silhouetted his fingers in order to keep his mind preoccupied and free of helpless babbling. To this day, he still got clumsy with his words whenever he was around you. Liam’s pretty sure that’s how it’s always going to be. “Liam,” you called, voice solemn and foreign. He wanted to go back twenty minutes, when you were giggling into your palms and he had his cheeks puffed out like a dramatized chimpanzee. “You don’t get it,” he decreed, clearing his throat of the awful lump that was beginning to bunch up in there and crack his words. He wasn’t going to cry. “Everyone’s been really shit at one point. And I don’t. I’m not looking for someone perfect, you know? I understand that everyone’s gonna make mistakes - I’ve made a shit ton myself. But.” Catching his lower lip between his teeth, Liam took a moment to gather his thoughts before carrying on. “I’m literally putting everything on the line right here,” he publicized, dropping his hands to his forehead. “I’m in love with you, you know? I’ve never outright said it, but.” You nodded your hand, three of your fingers instinctually reaching out to graze his bicep as you murmured a small, “I know.” The left corner of his mouth quirked up in the smallest form of a smile you’ve ever seen. “And I know you love me too. I’ve. Never once have I ever doubted that, y’know? I am willingly giving you all of me and you’re giving me all of you in return and. And I love that, honest, I do. It’s. That’s more than I could ever ask for.” Plopping his right hand in the space between you two, Liam hooked his pinky around yours. You tightened your fingers a small amount. “It’s just. Everyone’s always gotta have an opinion, for some reason. As if, like. As if what they think or say has the right to disprove and admonish mine or your feelings. Like they know more about our relationship than we do, just because they’re some twisted up unbiased third party, or something. Kind of like their word is law. And it’s just.” Liam scratched angrily at his scalp with his free hand before scrubbing his palms down his face. “They always take. They keep taking, like every bit of me I’ve already given to them isn’t enough. And sometimes I just wonder if, like. Is it ever enough?” Liam stretched his hands out once more, murmuring, “When did it become okay to push my happiness aside for the general public, y’know?”</li>
