Between Us [Spaces Sequel]

t w e n t y - t w o

I spent the entire day at the hotel with Kaya, just waiting to receive a call from Harry. He said, it might not take him to long, so I had to stay ready for his call.
We went to the spa, after that we sat in a whirlpool on top of the building, sipping on a glass of champagne. Every now and then, I looked at my phone, hoping that somehow there was a missed call from Harry.
"He still hasn't called yet, has he?" Kaya said, as I was staring at my phone again. Sighing, I put my phone down next to the pool, leaning back.
"He hasn't," I replied. "What was I expecting? I know he's busy. He always is. I should've known, that this would happen, right?"
"Scarlett," Kaya said. "Maybe you should just call him. He's all caught up in his job, sitting in some dark studio. He probably doesn't even know what time it is. Tomorrow is our last day here. If you want to spend time with him, take matters into your own hands."
"I hate you," I whispered.
"Because I'm always right," Kaya replied, shrugging. "Now, drink up, get to your room, dress nicely and surprise him. Don't let his job eclipse what you need. He'll be happy to spend some time with you."
"Alright," I said. "I'll plan the perfect night for us."
"Speaking of that... Did you guys, you know,.."
"Kaya!" I said, slightly hitting her arm. "We didn't. I don't wanna rush anything, alright?"
"Got it," Kaya answered with a grin across her face. "But he's hot and-"
"Kaya," I interrupted. "He is hot, but he is also my first boyfriend. I won't rush anything, just because he's hot. And that, by the way, doesn't even matter to me. He helped me when nobody else would and that's what matters."

The sun was already setting as I ordered some champagne to our room. I called Harry, but he didn't answer. I decided to just sit on the bed and wait for him. For the past weeks, since I had dated Harry, I had received millions of tweets. I never looked at them, but that day I decided that I should read through some of them. My notifications were already blowing up. There were plenty of pictures of me and Harry at their show, kissing or hugging. A smile spread across my face when I read comments from fans that thought we were pretty cute together. Looking at those pictures, it felt weird to know that that was me. I still had to get used to being in public, always exposed whenever I was with Harry. Sure, it wasn't easy, but I really wanted to be with Harry, so I would have to deal with it. As I scrolled further down, the smile suddenly faded from my face. After reading all those nice comments, what I was reading now felt like a dagger in my heart.
Who is Scarlett anyways? Harry shouldn't be putting up with someone like her.
I didn't quite understand what they meant by 'someone like her', but still, it hurt me. Although I didn't really like the comments, I kept reading them.
"Scarlett is fat and ugly, she doesn't even deserve Harry."
"is this another stunt? they must be kidding."
"He'll probably break up with her sooner or later. I mean... look at her !"
The other comments I couldn't quite see, since my view was getting blurry. Just a few seconds later, a teardrop landed on my phone screen. Each and every mean tweet felt like catching a blow in the stomach. Was I really this bad? All my life, I had never been quite happy with myself. And now that I could see that so many people thought the exact same thing, I couldn't help feeling worthless. The scars on my arms were proof of my rough past. They were already fading, and I hadn't self-harmed in like a year. It wasn't always easy for me and it was days like this that made me want to start again so badly. I put my phone down on the bed, making my way to the bathroom. I needed to cool down somehow. I locked the door behind me and sat on the cold bathroom floor. The last time I had felt this empty was after confronting my father. I couldn't understand why Harry's fans would say such things about me. They didn't even know me, yet somehow they couldn't stand me. There was one thought that hit me over and over again: Could our relationship last if his fans hated me? Sure, there had also been nice comments, but the majority was pretty negative. Hot tears were streaming down my face, the sobs coming from deep inside threatened to choke me. My heart felt like it was going to burst along with my lungs. Just then, I heard someone unlock the door to the hotel room. "Scar?"
The door closed behind him, I could hear him take off his boots and walk past the bathroom door. "Scar, are you here?"
All day, I had desperately waited for him to come home and now that he was here, I wanted him to leave so badly. I didn't want him to see that I was this weak. He couldn't see me like this.
I jumped a little, as I heard a knock on the bathroom door. "Are you in there?"
"Yeah," I replied.
"Is everything okay?" He asked through the door, his voice dripping with worry.
"I'm fine," I said, but I couldn't quite hold back a sob.
"Are you crying?"
I remained silent, wiping tears from my eyes.
"Can I come in?"
I didn't give him an answer, simply leaning my head against the door that I had my back to. He pushed down the door-handle, before he noticed that the door was locked.
"Love, what's wrong?" He asked, knocking against the door.
"Go away, Harry."
"Never," he mumbled, as I heard him sit down at the other side of the door.
"I just want to be alone," I lied.
"I know you hate being alone," he said, making me smile slightly. "Whatever it is that's bothering you, just talk to me. I don't want you to hurt yourself again, or... Scar?"
"I can't do this," I mumbled, tears flooding my face again.
"What do you mean? You're scaring me, darling."
He knocked on the door again, after I didn't answer him.
"If you don't want to talk, that's fine. But I'm staying here until you open that door. I don't care how long it takes."
For about half an hour, I was on the floor, my back against the door. The sobs just wouldn't stop. Every now and then, I heard Harry whisper my name.
"Could you please come out? You don't have to talk to me, alright? Just open the door and I'll try to help... somehow," he said, sadness in his voice. "Scarlett, please. I love you."
I sighed, got up from the floor and unlocked the door. I could hear him jump to his feet, before he opened the door.
He looked at me with so much sadness in his eyes that it hurt me. My eyes were probably red and puffy from all the crying. Tightly, he pulled me into his embrace. We remained like this in the doorframe, me sobbing into his shoulder and him stroking the back of my head.
"What's wrong, love?" He whispered.
"I'm really sorry," I apologized. He looked at me in confusion.
"What for?"
"I... I was waiting for you all day. And I ordered champagne and I wanted to spend time with you tonight, because you're never here. While I was waiting, I read some pretty mean tweets and I just..."
I couldn't finish, since I was interrupred by another sob escaping my body. I looked up at him, seeing a tear roll down his cheek. It hurt me so much, seeing him cry. Especially because of me.
"What were they saying?"
"It's really not that important," I said, wiping his tear.
"It's making you cry, so obviously it is," he replied.
"They were just saying how I wasn't good enough for you... that I was fat and ugly."
"You didn't... hurt yourself, did you?" He asked carefully, wiping away another tear.
I shook my head, as he embraced me again, this time, he cried into my shoulder.
"I'm so, so sorry, love," he sobbed, before pulling out of the hug, cupping my cheeks. "I don't want to you to feel like this because of me. And don't you ever say that you're not beautiful or that you're fat. I couldn't care less about your weight, because it doesn't matter to me. You're beautiful the way you are. And don't you dare think that you're not good enough for me, love. I'm not good enough for you. I just wish I could give you more. More time and more attention and seeing you cry because of me makes me feel the worst. Stop doubting yourself, because of what others say. Quit denying yourself love. Stop considering yourself undeserving. Scarlett, you are the love of my life and you deserve so much better than what you have been given."
His words, caused me to cry even more, a smile spreading across my lips.
"I love you, Harry."
He smiled and wiped my tears. "I have an interview tomorrow in the afternoon, but I promise you, we'll spend the entire morning together and I'll make it up to you," he said. "And now, let's have that nice evening you prepared. I could really use some cuddling."