Lethal Lust (Harry Styles x Reader)

confrontation :part I.

We've all been in that situation. Where you fall out with someone and they completely walk out of your life, no finishing statements, no closure, it is' almost as if they never existed at all. So you find yourself awake in the wee hours of the morning, thinking about old memories with you and that person, all the good times and the bad, thinking about what you would say to them given the chance you'd unexpectedly bump into them.

So you do silly things like pretending to confront them while daydreaming when washing your hair in the shower. Drawing on your're oh so rapier wit and sharp sarcasm to deliver the most brutal and hateful comebacks that in your imagination make them cry and run away. Or you sit alone by the mirror in your bedroom, pretending that you are standing up to the person who wronged you by explaining how you feel in the saddest most heartbreaking manner. Hoping that they can sense your pain and misery and maybe take you back.

Then, in reality, when you do actually see them, say on a night out or at work or just perhaps crossing each other on the street. The false bravado we maintain and assure ourselves in our heads, all the make-believe conversations we've had to train ourselves for this singular moment just vanish. We become scared, we internally freak out, and then shut down. We don't approach them, we turn the other way. We treat the person as a stranger, but they're more than a stranger, they are a stranger with all of our secrets.

So, when I thought about what I'd say to Harry if I ever saw him again, I immediately blocked the idea of it out. I knew if I ever did see him it would be in passing, he made it clear from his actions that he didn't want to engage with me anymore. It would be an exchange of glances through the school corridors and nothing more. So I didn't even want to entertain the idea of letting out my anger by preparing what I would shout at him with when we were face to face.

But here he was, confronting me, calling me by my name while I sat on a bench near the front entrance of Elyria Hospital, now at the lowest point of my frail existence. This isn't how it was supposed to play out. I had resigned to the fact that due to the lack of text messages and phone calls from him that he couldn't care less about me. So why was he standing before me, talking to me, this isn't what he's supposed to be doing I'm not emotionally prepared for this!

Harry called out my name again but I couldn't raise my head to meet his face. One look at it and I would be sent back to how I felt the night I looked at him at the dance. How he beamed at me and made me feel like the most beautiful girl in this stupid, crappy town. How I foolishly believed that for the first time in my life I was wanted, most importantly by the guy I've literally had the biggest crush on since hitting puberty.

Harry tutted, releasing a sigh of agitation. Not sure if it was directed to himself and the fact he's messed up any chance of a relationship with me or the fact he was annoyed at my stubbornness at not talking to him. Honestly, I wasn't intentionally trying not to talk to him I just had no idea what to say to him! Do I A) play it cool and just walk away? Do I B) scream at his face for how terrible he had made me feel? Or do I C) just simply break down. Honestly right now ladies and gentlemen I'm feeling C) has got a strong chance of winning here.

Harry reached for his back pockets, maybe he's going to pull out a beautiful necklace or a mixtape cassette tailored just to me, y'know some grand romantic gesture to win me back! Yep...no he was just pulling out a case of cigarettes. Harry took a cigarette and lit it; the smoke playfully dancing in the cool evening air. He brushed a hand through his hair, looking around, fidgeting it was obvious he was stressed out but I couldn't work out why.

"Listen," he began, after taking a deep drag. As if trying to muster the right words to come out of his mouth. "I-" He stopped, awkwardly looking at the ground, he had no idea what to say to me. Harry obviously hadn't thought it through, maybe he thought that by some divine inspiration by the time he reached the hospital he'd be able to perfectly explain and give reasons for his actions. But no, words were obviously failing him, I mean he couldn't get a single syllable out.