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Harry Styles

I didn't know what to feel.

My legs crossed and my hands behind my head. I looked up at the ceiling, for which I could not see since the lights were off.

Did I feel anything?

Bree told me she was infertile, and she couldn't have children. Then she sobbed on the Brooklyn Bridge. Many people stared, I even heard some roaring laughs.

Did I feel sympathy for her? I don't know. What even is sympathy?

I haven't felt any positive feelings, in a while.

So the questions lingered  through my head. My head felt like nails were hammering against my skull, I felt stressed. But, I knew I felt something more than that.

What is it I felt? How did I feel? What did I feel?

I had come to a conclusion.

I had felt sympathy.

I had sympathy for Bree.

No one has made me feel that emotion in a long time. But Bree...god she did. She made me feel sympathy, I felt bad for her, you know?

She revealed something to me, a secret. All because I pushed her over the edge. I pressured her into telling me, picked that habit up from my father..didn't I?

Maybe I should lighten up on her. She saved my life that night I reluctantly jumped off of the balcony. Even though I didn't want to be saved, she still did. And, I still treat her like shit. I shouldn't treat her like that anymore.

But sometimes, I can't control myself. I just snap. It's another trait that I picked up from my father, am I proud of it? No, of course not. But Ill try, I'll try and that is all that matters. I'll try and be kinder to her.

Maybe I was vile to her because she made me feel something again. I felt lost, and like I had no control. I didn't like it. No one was supposed to change the plans, especially not her..

Technically she was part of the plan, but she wasn't supposed to interfere with it.

Emotions. They can not be controlled. You hate who you hate, and like who you like. Sometimes enemies can become, closer...they say. But I don't believe it, once you hate someone; you'll always stick with that hatred. They're always be something rotten about them. Something that was simply and utterly wrong.

But Bree was the only exception.

I went from not wanting to do this stupid mission, to not wanting the mission to be over.

I fancied her.

I've got a crush on Bree.

Bree Tyler

Dear Journal,

The date? I have no idea. Let's just skip to the entry, shall we?

Here we go again. The circling thoughts. They're entering my brain. They're taking over. Im laying on the couch, feeling slightly lonely. Was I too harsh on Harry? Was he angry with me? Maybe I shouldn't have lashed out at him...he apologized, so that means something, doesn't it? He made me feels things I have never felt during my existence. Sometimes he brought me joy, and other times he brought me sadness; fear, guilt, crazed. He made me feels so many things, but there was another emotion I felt for him, I couldn't put my finger on it. It was on the tip of my tongue...right there. Butterflies. Butterflies is what I felt. Weird feeling, isn't it? The tingles that poke you, the flush of red in your cheeks, the ache in your stomach that made you almost feel as if you'd pass out. He even has a tattoo of a butterfly, it constantly reminds me of what I feel for him. Or was the tattoo on his stomach a moth? I wasn't quite sure; otherwise, my statement above wouldn't make any sense. So, I will choose to believe it's a butterfly. (Butterflies are way cuter then moths, anyways.) So what that I felt butterflies for my charming kidnapper? Was that a little weird? You know what, yeah, it's super weird. But we're all a little weird and fucked up in the head, right? This is the way I think of it. I feel...protected. He doesn't want anyone else to have me. Or maybe I'm just being brainwashed into thinking this whole thing is a sense of protection, which it is not, or is it? But I faced hard time. I faced the real, cold, harsh, facts of my reality. I like Harry.

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