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...
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GRIFFIN E. WALKER December, 2014
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Winter bloody Wonderland.
Of all the things Harry Styles could've planned for the first official day of us wasting our Christmas holiday away, he decided that it would be a splendid idea to throw ourselves in a sea of people. My anxiety was through the roof at the simple thought of it. That, of course, remained as a little detail, kept only to myself.
We decided to meet at the entrance because I knew that going together would've been too much time spent in the other's company. He was giving me my daily dose of human interaction, anyway. He had been for the third day in a row.
Both of us bundled up in warm clothing, we mingled in the crowd. The first thing we did was argue over what we should do first but that was all his fault. He had an obsession with the rides, said they were his absolute favourite and always the number one thing he did when he came here. Me, being the biggest pussy on planet Earth, heights were one of, if not my biggest enemy. Something about being so far away from the ground where my feet could not touch the soil made me uneasy. I lost every bit of control I had over my own body and so at any given moment, I refused to get on the bloody things.
"No."
"Yes."
"I said no," I stood my ground. And I wanted to keep standing on it. The ride he wanted to go on had a massive loop in the middle, something that was definitely not fucking safe. I had no idea how rollercoasters were even allowed to be a thing.
"Come on!"
"You go on it. I'll take photos of you for your mother."
"Piss off."
I only laughed in response. I wasn't a pushover. If something didn't tickle my fancy then it simply did not tickle my fancy. He could've gone on the ride if he really wanted to but he decided against it which just showed that he did not. When I mentioned this, he flipped me off and then walked in front of me as if he was mad at me for ruining his fun.
Eventually, he turned around but continued to walk. "Should we get a hot chocolate?"
"I'm gonna need a wee," I warned him as I caught up to him. Whilst the words left my lips, his eyes were fixated on me, paying close attention to everything.
"Do you ever let yourself have a bit of fun?"
"Yes."
"Hm," he reacted. "What do you do for fun? Other than go out to get pissed."
"Well... that's about it," I said, just to end the conversation. It was bound to get very personal, very fast. The only thing I enjoyed more than drowning my sorrows, was painting. Something that I neglected a lot more than I realised. "What about you?"
