Disconnected > styles
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- Parts 25
Complete Sat, Dec 21, 20132h 19m
"Knowing you," Harry choked on a sob. "Knowing you was a mistake."
"No! Don't say that! You love me! You told me last night!" Alexa yelled.
"Well," Harry said, looking Alexa straight in the eyes. "I lied."
She gritted her teeth and threw her head up.
"No! You love me, Harry Styles! I don't care how much you deny it! I cause an aching pain in your heart as you do mine! You do love me!" Alexa screamed.
"No, I don't."
With that, the boy Alexa once knew and fell head over heels in-love with fled the room, slamming the door in the process.
"No," She sobbed. "It hurts. Rejection hurts. Heartbreak hurts. Love hurts."
THIS IS 10000% A CARROT-Y FANFIC. please read at your own risk i wrote this when liam was a afraid of spoons, louis loved carrots and zayn said 'vas happenin?'. i sincerely apologize.
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#22
direction
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β π©π¦πͺπ’π―π’π«π π’ /Λπ©ΙͺπͺΙπ―Ιπ«π°/ ππ‘π§π’π π±π¦π³π’: π π£π’π³π’π―π’π‘ π°π±ππ±π’ π¬π£ πͺπ¦π«π‘ ππ¬π―π« π¬π£ π―π¬πͺππ«π±π¦π π£π¦π΅ππ±π¦π¬π«; πͺππ―π¨π’π‘ ππΆ π¬ππ°π’π°π°π¦π³π’ π±π₯π¬π²π€π₯π±π°, π©π¬π«π€π¦π«π€ π£π¬π― π’πͺπ¬π±π¦π¬π«ππ© π―π’π π¦ππ―π¬π π¦π±πΆ, ππ«π‘ ππ« ππ π₯π¦π«π€ π‘π’ππ’π«π‘π’π«π πΆ; β΄ π‘π’π³π¬π±π¦π¬π« π‘π―π’π°π°π’π‘ π¦π« π‘π’π©π²π°π¦π¬π« β "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.
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