They met at the wrong time under the wrong circumstances, in a world that was not theirs. They had no choice but to move on from each other.
Five years later, Griffin Walker and Harry Styles meet again. How will it end this time?
LOVE BUILT ON LIE...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
GRIFFIN E. WALKER December, 2014
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Welcoming my cousin home by bawling my eyes out on the sofa was one way in which I did not expect to spend my day. Since fate had a rather interesting power, it made it happen. Keeping in mind that Callum had never seen me in such state, it was incredibly awkward. Having to stop my weeping and collect my tissues, I wrapped myself up in my blanket and disappeared inside my bedroom, closing the door gently behind me. Tears burned my eyes again as the feeling of embarrassment flooded through my entire body.
I can't believe he had to see me cry like that.
One of the biggest weaknesses ever known to human kind was crying. Never once in my life did I think of it differently. Having your words be cut up by the enormous lump in your throat, making your voice wobble and break, your emotions overpowering the things you wish to say out loud. It feels like someone is defeating you, someone is working against you and they are winning, making you seem the loser, the one who ends up battered and bruised, a weak little nothing that people can only pity.
Those who have seen me cry versus those who I have seen cry could not have been farther from one another on a long-ended scale. For some odd reason, that made me feel proud. The thought of being strong enough to hold myself back and only let my guard completely down when no one is around, gave me a weird satisfaction. Personally, I found it quite hard to find something worse than breaking down with even just one person present.
It's ugly. It's humiliating. It's vulnerable. It's a side of me that no one deserves to see. It's a side of me that I will never allow anyone to witness.
Stood in front of my mirror, it was my mission to make it seem as though the last hour and a half wasn't spent crying. As the tissue soaked up the wetness on my cheeks left by the painful tears I wept, it was time I allowed the realisation to settle within me that the redness, the blotchiness, it will not disappear just because I want it gone. The feelings that push me to become weak, will not disappear just because I want them gone. Much like my appearance gaining back its original look, these feelings will also take time to make sense to me so that they can be worked on and eventually let me find some peace.
Staring at my reflection, I saw nothing but an ugly cow with cried out, puffy eyes, a stuffy nose and red skin. Sniffling, the sound of a soft knock against my bedroom door caused my heart to drop to the pit of my stomach. Not a moment later, it began to open, only to reveal Callum there who looked oddly worried.
"Hey," he said sympathetically yet unsure as to whether or not it was even a good idea to check in on me. Since I moved in with him, this was the first time he saw me cry like this. Granted, he spends more time outside of the apartment than inside for him to know this happens a lot more than once a week but at least he handled it appropriately.
