SIN{Punk Romeo & Juliet Harry Styles}

Ch.32

 Where my angels rest -James Arthur

Confessions- James Arthur

Classic -James Arthur

Sweet dreams -James Arthur

Smoke cloud -James Arthur

Harry's POV

Have you ever felt angry and crazy and sad and humiliated and fucking mess at the same time? Well that was exactly how I was feeling after she stood there staring me with her big, innocent eyes giving me nothing but bullshits. 

I walked fast through the crowd, cursing under my breath her and her stupid smile that made me wanna try with her, not giving a flying shit about who I was pushing. My breathing was still heavy, my lungs feeling full of smoke, out of air like someone or fucking something couldn't let me breathe normally. 

She just left.

Technically I was the one that finally walked away first there was nothing else I could do. I had an ego too, a big one actually and I turned it down the minute I told her that I wanted her to give me, us, whatever, a chance; a chance she didn't think I deserve. What was her problem and what mine? It wasn't the first time I was feeling lust for a girl, surely not but it was the first time I didn't want just to fuck the hot girl and run away like a scared little boy. That was what I truly was I guess. A fucked up emotional, scared boy that was acting bad and harsh so people wouldn't be able to see how terrified he was. A guy that Ann read from the first second.

I hated her for having this affect on me. I hated the way she could change my mood simply by talking to another guy and not to me or simply by watching her writing down her notebook, the poetic bullshits Mr. Arthur was saying. Love wasn't what he was teaching us. Love was a fucked up, awful feeling that could turn your inside out and still you would be there, begging for more. Love was never easy or peaceful and maybe I wasn't the most suitable person to talk about it, cause surely I had never been there but the feelings, Ann was giving me were I guess somehow close to the definition. You can define love right? I guess falling is a lot like death, simply cause you can't choose it. Never. It chooses you. The motherfucker feeling decides the moment of the chain of events that'll preclude the precise intersection of life in which it occurs.

Love, just death uses you.Treats you as though you were malleable in it's warm pliable hands. It doesn't bother to ask you if after all you fucking want it or need it! It's just fills you up drawing you and you can't escape no matter how hard you try.

And I couldn't. Slowly but hardly I was falling for a damn girl that was the definition of a human tornado and I was willingly throwing myself to her just so she would push me away again and again.

''From all the fucked up things you've done Styles, falling for miss Annabel Payne is the most pathetic'', I whispered to myself as I walked to the bar, wondering if that was the way the girls I was screwing up used to feel when I was walking away. If it was true that karma is a bitch then I was just in the start of getting back exactly what I gave and oh God I gave a lot of pain.

''Fuck'' I breathed out shaking my head. I looked over the huge table with the drinks. Whiskey bottles, wine, beer, even some freaking Red Bull were saluting me. What I should drink first and what I could possible do to waste my time without thinking, long blonde hair, ocean eyes and a fucking temper?

I leaned over going for the HAVANA black bottle. Grabbing a red, plastic cup after filling it with some cubes I left the liquid run into. When the cup was almost full and the scent was already intoxicating me I stopped putting the bottle down.