*・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・*
I want nothing more than to see him, but I know I can't. For what feels like months but has only been a few days, I've done nothing but stay hunkered down in a hotel just down the street from Harry's. The bed has become my new sanctuary, sheets and comforter my protection, and listening to old voicemails from Harry is now a new hobby.
Listening to his voice is all I seem to want to do- the voice that used to be my solace.
I know that I'm only going to keep hurting myself by continuing to self induce the torture of going through old photos, videos, and voicemails, but there is a small nook in my brain that honestly believes doing this will erase the last memories I have of Harry's voice that are anything but pleasant.
Maybe if I keep putting myself through this, eventually when I fall asleep to the sound of his voice playing through my phone speaker, I'll no longer have nightmares of how vicious he sounded the last time we spoke.
At first I made it through all the pictures from the early days when there was nothing more to label us as than friends. I found a photo he didn't know I took of him one night when he came over to save me from my loneliness at Charles' house, and I found the photo I took when I fixed his hair to help him impress Taylor Swift.
YOU ARE READING
Fine Line // H.S.
Fanfiction"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?" Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and sh...