Harry’s POV
I knew it.
I knew she wasn’t 100%.
Michael was always more into their relationship and it showed.
Well it showed to me anyway. I still wasn’t over Sophie. How could I be? Everyone had their little pairs and now threes but I was left. Its torture enough watching her and Michael from afar never mind having to share a room with them. This hotel doesn’t even own a shared kitchen and living room!
I couldn’t just leave it, I needed answers so when I saw my chance, I took it.
The stutter was all I needed to figure out she had to question herself on whether Michael was really who she wanted. I was the only one who could see what a mistake she was making. I saw the way he looked at her, with love and adoration but there was no definite vision in Sophie’s eyes.
I leant back using the headboard for support. How could one girl be causing so much hassle that even my own mind is fighting itself? Parts of me were telling me she’s his and it should remain that way but the other side of me kept fighting, telling me I stood a chance of winning her. It caused my brain to ache, my hands harshly rubbing my temples in attempt to calm my thoughts.
The so called happy couple were the other side of the room mirroring my bed, their bodies tangled like a work of art. But it wasn’t. Jealousy was crawling on my skin and I needed relief, God I needed her. I needed to show her what she could have if she were mine.
My figure forced itself up, the jealousy releasing and I stormed out of the room. I didn’t know where I was going but anywhere was better than staring at someone I longed to hold in the arms of someone who she claimed to love. The door abruptly shut behind me signalling I was separated from them.
I was craving for something strong. I had no idea of the bars whereabouts in Edinburgh but there’s bound to be some form of alcohol nearby. I could be making a huge mistake here but my whole situation is just one big mistake so a little drink wouldn’t make much of a difference.
Ok, when I said a little drink I didn’t expect to be stumbling around some club. My vision had long gone, noting was clear anymore. Voices were mumbled by the time the sentence had reached my brain. I reached ahead for anything solid to help regain my balance but my hand fell on some guy’s ass. I attempted to apologise to the freaked out guy who probably was claiming me to be a gay pervert but my words came out slurred.
I felt cold air sting across my face, the burn down my throat became icy but the pain didn’t come close to the pain inside m heart. I had to return back to a perfect couple and watch them sleep cuddled into one another. It made me sick. Was I really drinking over the fact she was Michael’s and not mine? How pathetic can someone get? I wanted my bed and to be sober again, I could only imagine the hangover I was going to receive in the morning. My hand fumbled with the hotel room key until it finally opened, leaving me to stumble forwards. The door was slammed shut behind me once again as I face planted into my bed falling into deep slumber.
“Harry please!”
“No, I hate being second best.”
“I just left him for you!”
“What?”
“I love you not him!”
