Losing Myself

Losing Myself

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing3h 8m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Jul 10, 2014
"I think when it’s all over it just comes back and flashes, you know? It’s like a kaleidescope of memories. It just all comes back. But he never does. I think part of me knew the second when I saw him this would happen. It’s not really anything he said, or anything he did. It was the feeling that came along with it. And the crazy thing is, I don’t know if I’m ever gonna feel that way again. But I don’t know if I should. I knew his world moved to fast and burned too bright. But I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you towards someone who looks like an angel when they smile at you? Maybe he knew that when he saw me. I guess I just lost my balance. I think that the worst part of it all wasn’t losing him. It was losing me…" *** They say when you meet the love of your life, you know. But I never did. They say you’ll get butterflies and your palms will sweat and you’ll smile slightly as your eyes meet there’s, but that’s not what happened. I hated him. There was nothing I wanted more than to not want him. Falling in love with some ass face frat boy quarterback at Princeton was not on my “to do” list when I received my acceptance letter. He was scum. He’d drink his weight in vodka, fuck any female that batted their lashes at him, and picked on anyone he thought was beneath him. I hated him. Since the day I laid eyes on him I swore I hated him. But I was also infatuated with him. And the way his green eyes went bloodshot when he was intoxicated. The way he’d watch how I walk and study my pattern of doing things. And the way his obnoxious laugh traveled down the halls of the frat house I’d spent so many regrettable nights at. I didn’t know it was possible to hate someone and love them so much. I guess I really didn’t really know what I was capable of; until I met Harry.
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"Why do you care?" he asks. But it's not soft. It's sharp, defensive, like he's already bracing for the answer. I want to tell him the truth. Because you saved me. Because you're the only one who makes me feel real. Because if you fall apart, I don't know what happens to the rest of us. Instead, I just say, "Maybe I want to understand." He scoffs, no humor in it. "You don't. Trust me." Silence stretches between us. Then he steps forward, close enough that I can see the way his hands won't stop shaking. "You already know too much," he says, voice low. "More than you ever should've." I don't look away. "Then tell me the rest." He shakes his head. "It's not your place. You don't get to ask." "But I am asking." He exhales sharply. "Jesus, Lily. This isn't a story with a clean ending. I'm not a mystery. I'm a goddamn warning sign. I'm dangerous." I flinch, but I don't move. And that pisses him off more. He takes a step back like he's going to leave, then pauses. His eyes flick to my jacket. In one quick motion, he reaches in and pulls out the burner phone. "I think this belongs to me," he says, tone sharp but quiet. No accusation. Just fact. I don't respond. Just watch as he slips it into his pocket, like closing a door I wasn't supposed to open. He looks at me for one long second, jaw clenched. "Go home," he says again, this time like a warning. And this time, I believe him. He crushes the cigarette under his boot, turns his back, and walks down the alley, leaving me standing in the dark. - Lily didn't ask to be assigned to him. Harry Styles is a name whispered like a warning, famous for his ink, infamous for everything else. Brooding. Untouchable. But Lily has a habit of looking too closely. And when she finds something she shouldn't, the line between curiosity and consequence begins to blur. He told her to stay away. She should've listened. - TW: emotional abuse, manipulation, drugs, sex, violence, trauma.

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