FINE LINE | HARRY STYLES

FORTY-FIVE.

NOVEMBER, 2019. CONT.

It's like deja vu. Just like two years ago when he kissed me and left. And I showed up at his doorstep cursing him before he pinned me to the couch.

But at the same time, it wasn't like that moment at all.

Because this time he wasn't smirking or smiling like he knew what was about to happen. He wasn't inviting me in.

No, he was staring at me with pure hurt on his face. Deep into his beautiful eyes, was pain. I don't think he's ever really looked at me like this before.

His bottom lip quivers as he reaches out and brushes his gentle fingers along my jaw. He always handles me with such gentleness. I wince though, not because it hurts, but because it feels like he hasn't really touched me in so long despite it only being days.

Something about this moment feels broken.

Like something is wrong.

Like I'm walking into the end of something.

Suddenly I want to turn around and go home. Just hide until everything is back together again.

"I listened to the album." I say as he pulls away.

Harry smiles slightly, but it never reaches his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Looking at him hurts.

How could things go so wrong in such little time?

"Wanna come in?" He asks me, his fingers still curled around the doorknob.

I nod, letting him step over so I can pass him. He shuts the door behind us as I awkwardly sit on his couch. It's not long before he's beside me, a large gap between us.

He never sits this far away. Even when we're upset with each other.

"I know you always hear this, but you're really fucking talented, Harry."

"It only matters when I hear it from you." He admits, staring at his hands resting on his lap.

"I kept listening and listening and...it felt like something. Something I couldn't figure out. Then I did."

"What is it?"

"It felt like the end." I croak out, already feeling sick for even letting the words pass my lips.

Harry finally lifts his head to look at me. His eyes flicker with fear but they eventually fall with realization.

"What do you mean by that?" He carefully questions.

"Why didn't you propose, Harry?" I blurt, my jaw clenching immediately.

I don't know why I asked. I don't even know if I want to know.

"Soleil..." He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face.

"Because that's not how it works. You don't just buy a fucking ring and go somewhere with someone with the intent of proposing to them and then...and then you just don't! You don't just do that."

"I know."

"So why? What changed your mind? Did you not love me enough?"

"God, no. That'll never be the case. Soleil, there'll never be a day where I don't love you."

I sniffle, wiping the tears that roll down my cheeks. I feel so fucking pathetic right now.

"Then why?" I press, clenching my fists.