hating me for loving you {h.s}

Chapter 4.

A/N:

Super slight and soft mention/trigger of ED/trouble eating.

If you're struggling, I know this might be hard to hear, but you deserve it. You deserve to fuel and reward yourself with water and your favorite treat. I love you, please take care of yourselves in this crazy world.

*PHOEBE'S POV*

"Hey, you ready to go?" Harry shouted from across the house as I scrambled to get my shit together.

"Yeah, coming." I yell back, grabbing my infamous tote, putting my white Doc Martens on. They took a long time to break into, but now that I did it, they're definitely my favorite shoes.

Harry and the team decided to go to the studio today, ideas usually stir out of us when we're just sitting there. The studio has always been a second home for the both of us, we feel most ourselves when we're making music.

He had to physically drag me out of bed to go, I'd say grumpy was an understatement this morning.

I wrote a fun idea in the coffee shop the other day, as well as writing the song Harry doesn't get the know about, and I think he'll really like it. It's different from anything I've ever written, anything that he's ever sung, but I know he's open to anything at this point.

Today's a day where you feel like the rain in your mind is endless, the clouds forever shadowing the sun, hiding you from all good. That's what today feels like.

I'm trying to be as happy as I can, though, I don't wanna ruin a studio day. And, maybe it'll get better when writing music.

Ever since the talk about Ashlyn last week, this pit in my stomach hasn't gone away, maybe I just need to finally talk to her?

I did try calling her the other day, but I got no answer. After the incident, it's hard for me to believe she's alright when she doesn't pick up the phone or text back.

Maybe I'm just a clingy bitch? Because I seem to do that with everyone.

It's truly something I should work on, but how am I supposed to wake up one day and be like...

Oh yeah! I'm gonna detach myself from the one person who makes living worth it! Yeah, sounds like an extraordinary plan!

Nope, it's never happening.

Harry will just have me at the hip for the rest of his life, let's just hope he doesn't push me off before I can confess everything.

"Alright, let's hit the studio!" Harry exclaimed, obviously stoked that we're taking our whole day to go to our second home.

"The microphones and guitars are just absolutely stoked to be loved today." I spoke sarcastically, earning Harry a confused, as well as a laughable expression.

I think he knows something is off, but I know he's too afraid to speak up about it. But, any other time he doesn't mine, so what about it now? What changed?

Pussy Styles.

That should basically be his first name, he's a nervous little punk most of the time. Years ago, he'd practically shit his pants talking to any blonde and blue eyes, and fuck them for being so beautiful.

I'd shit my pants too, the bi panic really just shines through.

We both walked out to Harry's car, getting in as fast as we can, even though we're pretty much safe here from mobs and crowds of fans.

Don't get me wrong, we love meeting them, but sometimes it's so hard to get to everyone, which leads us both to feel so bad.

The thing that's still surreal to me is that people know who I am, not just Harry. People know my name, Phoebe Miller's.