Through the Lens

Name One

Harry's POV

"Harry, what the fuck was that?!" Louis yelled at me as I entered the kitchen and threw the take out on the counter. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled back. "You're gonna take her side on this!?"

"I'm on your side, always. You know that." He snapped. "This is me being on your side! You fucking love her, Harry. You're mad, but it doesn't change that. She came all the way here to see you, she raced here as soon as she found out. You don't do that for someone you don't give a shit about!"

"No, you just ignore them for SEVEN FUCKING MONTHS!" I roared as I slammed my hands down on the counter, hanging my head as I tried to calm the chaos in my mind.

"Haz, look at me." Louis said firmly as he leaned over the other side of the counter. "Look at me."

I lifted my head and shifted my eyes to look at him, his blue eyes searing into mine as he leaned forward.

"I'm gonna take her back to Niall's and give you some time to cool off. But I am telling you right now, if you do not come and talk to her, if you do not make this right, you will regret it for the rest of your  life. Don't be a fucking idiot. Don't let your ego make you lose her. If you think you've been through hell this past seven months while she's been gone, I'm telling you that you have no fucking idea what the next thirty years will be like. Fix it, don't be a fucking moron."

I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes tightly as he stormed out of the kitchen, wondering what the hell I'd just done, before he reappeared a few seconds later.

"And one more thing." He said angrily as I turned to look at him, sighing as I prepared myself for the next piece of advice. "I love you, you fucking bellend."

With that, he stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind him as I tried to absorb what the fuck had just happened. An hour ago I'd been pacing my childhood bedroom, trying to figure out whether or not I should take my Mum with me back to London so I could do the performances that had been pre-booked for my album promotion or just cancel them all together, and now I was standing in her kitchen wondering how the fuck Hailey just appeared out of nowhere.

I'd been dreaming of that moment since that day I left her bedroom in Lily Ridge, of seeing her face again and being able to look into her eyes. I'd begged and pleaded for the universe to just bring her to me, for her to help bring me home to the place where I felt like myself, where everything wasn't fucked up and I could feel like maybe things would work out. I'd imagined it a hundred different ways, and none of them ended with me screaming at her on the front lawn of my mother's house while she cried and begged me for my forgiveness.

Her voice was like fucking music as it came out of her lips, even though she was crying and apologizing it was still my favorite sound. After seven months of not speaking, she just appeared there like some kind of fucking gift from god and all it did was stir the pot of rage inside me. I'd prayed for that moment, dreamt that she would just show up and tell me everything would be okay, but when I got it all I wanted to do was yell and scream at her and make her feel as shitty as I felt. She'd bailed on me, yet again, and left me there alone. She'd promised me she'd always be there for me, that she'd always have my back, and then she fucking ignored me when I needed her. I'd told her I loved her time and time again, made it clear that I wanted to be with her, and I'd kept chasing her even after she just kept pushing me away over and over.

She looked fucking amazing, her skin a dark tanned color from being in the sun so much, her hair longer but somehow more wavy than before. And those fucking eyes that haunted me every day of my life were blue as ever as they'd looked at me with nothing but sympathy and guilt. I wanted to go to her, to wrap her in my arms and tell her how good it was to see her, to hold her and never let her go, but I couldn't. I wanted to tell her about how I'd just spent the last six months writing an album where every song was laced with parts of her, of the way she'd made me feel, of what we had. But instead, I yelled and screamed at her until I made her cry and made her leave. One might say I did exactly what I was so angry with her for, pushing her away, but I was way too mad to admit that to myself.