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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HARRY E. STYLES May, 2020
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Arriving home an hour later after my shift ended that evening, every step taken to get me closer to my bed was dreadful. Walking on what felt like a thousand needles beneath my feet with my lower back throbbing from standing around all day, lying down on the soft mattress, legs hanging down, my eyes fluttered closed. Inhaling the scent of the freshly changed bedding, it clouded my head, calming me down and quieting my mind from a busy shift.
Dragged my body across the room to collect some clothes, along with my towel that dried on the back of my chair then headed for a shower. Barely being able to keep myself up and awake under the lukewarm water, my hands washed my body, hair and face at a fast pace. Shutting off the shower head and grabbing my towel, I stepped out of the cabin and dried myself. Feeling more and more sleepy, the clothes stuck to me and my hair was still damp as I flicked off the light switch and returned to my bedroom. Placing the wet towel back on the chair after my door was closed behind me, my room darkened as well, making it quite a challenge to find the bed. Safe to say, it didn't happen without stubbing my toe in the corner.
Moments after my head hit the soft pillow, the throbbing in my feet intensified. Moving around in bed to get comfortable, forcing myself to fall asleep, the pain began to subside eventually. It wasn't until I fell completely unconscious that the feeling went away.
Waking up on my own the next morning, the side of my face felt numb. After I rolled onto my back, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palms, a sigh fell from my lips. Staring up at the ceiling for a bit, I allowed myself to wake up, my mind to register what was actually happening.
Work was horrid yesterday. A big birthday bunch was scheduled to dine at the restaurant, which was really fine by me but that, of course, came with an intense few hours in the kitchen. Finding out at the last minute that we were running dangerously low on things, made me stay an hour or so late, making a list of everything that needed to be ordered with the most urgent highlighted.
Scrolling through my phone, the notes app showed that I had another dinner shift today. Hopefully, nine hours of sleep will help me through it since my body decided to wake up and even though I've tried to go back for at least a couple more, it wasn't having it.
It wasn't until a text notification came through, that I remembered to message Griffin. Funnily enough, it was her who reached out first. Smiling as my finger clicked on it, the gesture gradually disappeared from my lips as the words processed in my head. Putting it into short: she wanted to talk.
Now, I can't speak for anyone else, but when someone says those words to me, whether that is face to face or over text, my heart kind of drops to the pit of my stomach as though it can no longer hold itself in place, too overwhelmed by the possible outcomes of said 'talking.'
