Skylar Tomlinson never could have seen Harry Styles coming. Well, she might have, had she been looking up. Her impulsivity and short temper coupled with Harry's taunting comments prove to be the same as fire and gasoline mixing - an epic explosion...
I love looking at the sky, I want to get lost in the clouds. I imagine what the shapes that the clouds form might be. Above my head, lay, a deformed heart and a boy hunched over. I sigh, fuck, I guess we really do see what we want to.
I wish I could make a black and white choice. I wish I could determine that Harry is objectively bad for me or absolutely right for me. The truth is that this is never the case, not even I, am completely good or bad for him. What was straight in my head was that I was...royally screwed. I blink the thought away, taking my time walking around the same block.
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My feet pick up the pace as the air grows colder, I reach my apartment and unlock the door. I'm greeted by my dog Pongo; his excitement at my arrival; melts away some of the tension I am feeling. I close the door behind me and lie on the sofa and Pongo follows me and sits on top of me. My jaw and teeth hurt form grinding my teeth so hard, I pull my shirt over my head, blocking the light out and lie there like a dead body. I took the week off from work to properly move into my apartment and organise it. I look at the cardboard boxes that fill most of my floor and the bare walls devoid of colour.
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Frames I bought to decorate the living room are on the floor, against my wall, one reads: 'Always treat people with kindness', the other: 'But first, coffee'. I even bought plants which are now on each sides of the living room such as a cactus and ficus benjamina.
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My legs drape across the arm of the sofa, pulling the shirt off my face, I stare at the ceiling, then look back at Pongo. "What should I do, Pongo?" I ask him. He looks at me as if saying 'I don't know'. "Yeah, me neither," I sigh. My throat closes up even just thinking about this, I'd say I'm not sure why, but I do.
