Harry Styles Imagines (Book 2)

Not Like The Movies

Your POV

I lay on the bed, trying to look turned on as Harry's lips once again sloppily connected with mine. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to try to feel something - anything for the man hovering over me. With a final grunt, he came before rolling off of me. Immediately, I sighed in relief, my body relaxing against the sheets. He smiled at me, mistaking my sound for one of pleasure.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured, dragging his fingers across my skin. When his fingertips ghosted over my nipple, I fought the urge to slap his hands away. “Was it nice?”

Licking my lips, I nodded my head. “You were amazing,” I cooed, curling up against him. Deep inside me, I could feel my emotions swirling.

“You know I love you, right?” he questioned, warmly smiling. He pressed my fingertips to his lips, and I could feel guilt rising up.

“Yeah, I know,” I murmured.

He dropped my hand, and I rolled over so that my back was facing him. I didn’t want him to see my face anymore. I didn’t want him to realize that every word I was saying was a lie, and I sure as hell didn’t want him to know that I didn’t love him the way he loved me.

Whenever we kissed or fucked or held hands, I wouldn’t feel anything. There were no “butterflies” in my stomach and no inexplicable feeling of happiness that I was supposed to be getting. Instead, I felt myself fall apart when I was with him.

Shit, just thinking about it was like wearing a dress three sizes too small. You’re struggling to fit into the fabric, and it’s bursting at the seams all because you’re too stubborn to accept the fact that it’ll never fit you.

Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to love Harry. I really did. But I just couldn’t do it. And at the same time, I couldn’t leave him because he was the only man in my life who was willing to do anything for me.

When he wrapped his arm around my waist and curled up behind me, I felt the first few tears form. Growing up, I thought being with someone was supposed to be like the movies, but it wasn’t; it was painfully different.