in·fin·i·ty

Chapter 1

I didn't ever want to cry over a guy and I certainly never thought I would stay awake at night thinking about someone. I always imagined myself as a strong person who stands up for what she believes in and doesn't care about what people think. I thought that I wouldn't ever need anyone.

He changed that. He came into my life and destroyed who I was. He consumed my thoughts every hour of the day and made me question who I wanted to be. He hurt me in a way I didn't think possible. What makes things worse, is that even though he killed me inside, I still find myself dreaming about how things could of been. Every now and then I'll fall asleep at night thinking about him. I don't want to care, and even though I've convinced myself that I don't, deep down I still love him.

I never stopped.

Elizabeth's POV

You would think that after six months of not seeing someone, you would move on and forget about how they once made you feel.

You would think that once someone hurts you intentionally, your heart and mind would hate them.

I wish that's how I felt. I wish that I didn't care and I could forget about him, but I haven't. I wish that I knew why he left me for her. Was I not good enough?

These are the thoughts that run through my head every day and I just want them to stop. He forgot about me so it's only fair that I should be able to do the same. So why can't I forget?

I glance at the mirror and let out a yawn. My dark brown hair sticks up unattractively and my eyes look tired. I yank a brush through my hair until it looks normal and throw on a simple outfit. If I had my way I would stay home all day and watch movies, but I have a job and getting fired is not an option.

I reluctantly leave my small apartment and walk down the busy New York streets and enter the large all-glass New York Times Publishing Company building. I've loved writing all my life so when I was offered the part-time summer job, I quickly accepted it. You would think that working for such a huge company would earn you loads of money, but I'm only an editor, so in other words I don't get payed as much and I'm easily expendable. My office consists of a small desk that my laptop sits on.

Unlike other people, I don't have any pictures decorating my work space because I don't have family. I like to live a quiet life and shut people out, so friends don't come easily. My reason for staying closed off to the world is simply because everyone leaves you in the end. My parents already have, they died a few years back when I was 16. The guy I was in love with left me for another girl. My bestfriend moved across the country to Europe. So it's just me, myself, and I living in New York City.

"Make sure pages 14-32 have no mistakes, I expect this to get back to me by tomorrow evening," my snotty boss demands, raising her perfectly plucked eyebrows at me as she smacks the newspaper on my desk.

I glance up at her with dull eyes and nod. She smooths down her already perfectly ironed black dress and stalks away with her nose in the air as if she is trying to sniff out trouble.

MaryKate Black is the definition of flawless, but her attitude was enough to make you run. She glides around the office with her annoyingly loud heels and snaps at anyone who looks like they are thinking about something other than work. I could easily see through her walls though, it's a talent I've always had. If you looked close enough you could see how Black hides behind her seemingly perfect profile and even though she's masking it, something or someone is currently hurting her, badly.

I sigh softly and pull the large stack of papers across my desk. Might as well start editing before I became even more unfocused.

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By five o'clock, my eyes are drooping from exhaustion and staring at small words all day long. My patience with the world has run thin and as I stumble out of the office, my mind is set on one thing. The comfy bed waiting for me at the apartment. I quickly join the crowded streets of New York and make my way home.

I'm not proud of many things that I've done, but as I walk slowly to the bathroom, I cringe at how pathetic and weak I am. I push the thoughts away and grab the blade I keep stored under the sink, taking in a deep breathe before pressing it into my skin and tracing the mark on my wrist.

An infinity sign.

The small figure eight holds a lot of meaning, but also represents so many memories. Like how I thought what we had would last forever, I thought our love would be infinite. I guess the mark on my wrist reminds me of how stupid I once was for believing that. It tells me that nothing lasts forever because everyone will leave you in the end.

So when people see that mark on my skin, they usually think it means something that would bring a smile to my face. They're so wrong.

I run my hand under warm water and the blood washes away with only a small sting. I'm so used to pain that I barely flinch when the blade cuts my skin. I stalk over to my bed and collapse on it, sinking deeply into the soft covers that seem to form a wall around me, allowing me to escape from the world that only hurts my heart.

___________________________

I'm awakened the next morning when my phone buzzes loudly. I can't really process what's going on because I never get text messages from anyone. After searching my bedside table blindly, my hand finally finds my phone. I squint my eyes at the bright screen and my heart nearly jumps out
of my chest.

Unknown number- I miss you Lu.

Only one person had ever called me Lu.

My ex boyfriend, Harry Styles.

Authors Note:

Well that was the first chapter of my new book, In•fin•it•y. I hope I didn't bore you too much, considering it was simply a filler chapter to get this fanfic started. I will warn you that One Direction is non-existent in this book. The main character, Elizabeth is being played by Camila Cabello from Fifth Harmony. So stay tuned for more updates. I love you all:)