kalopsia [harry styles]

36

FALLON COLLINS 

Guilt is a strange thing. 

I'd never been a master of knowing my feelings. In fact, avoiding everything until the last minute was my favorite hobby. 

Guilt seemed to be the one thing I couldn't avoid. No matter what I did to push it away, it always seemed to come back teasing, like a wave on the beach.

I'd felt it with Faith all my life; When we'd miss the bus because I hadn't been ready in time; When we had to go home because I'd had a little too much to drink at a party. 

I hated being the reason Faith left events, and I hated seeing her angry or sad because of something I had done. It seemed to be a recurring event, her being angry at me because of something I'd done. 

Surprisingly enough, it was never the other way around. Faith always seemed to have this amazing excuse as to why she'd flaked on me. Why she had been late, why she'd gotten wasted at a party, why she'd left me alone to fend for myself when a strange guy hit on me at a bar.

Why she'd made out with my boyfriend. 

I never got into specifics with her as to why she'd done it. Part of me believed it had been a simple mistake of the lights. That she had mistaken him for someone else, or that Liam had started the kiss. 

But as much as I think and think about it... everything comes back to Faith and the long line of issues she seemed to have. 

It's a good thing she's not here anymore to see me with Harry. 

The thought passes through my head before I can control it, and I instantly regret it. Guilt washes inside of me like a wave, making me feel dirty and sick. 

How could I think something like that? She was my sister. My family. 

Still, a small part of me knew I was right. If she'd been alive she would have tried everything in her power to make sure Harry was hers, and I'm not sure I would have had the courage to stop her from doing so. 

When you grow up around someone who demands as much attention as her, you learn to fade to the back; to let her have her moment in the spotlight and bask in the love of everywhere while you wait for your turn. It's better to do that than deal with the constant arguing that happens when you try to fight for your own space in the spotlight. 

I take in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the cookies I'd baked yesterday that still lingered in the air. 

It was the first Christmas in a while that I had truly felt happy and at peace. 

Sure I'd had those Christmases before Faith had died, but they weren't the same. Those were her Christmases, her gifts. 

This... laying here in my bed with Harry at my side sleeping soundly, watching the snowfall slowly on the window, the sound of cars passing down the street filling up the silence.

This was mine and only mine. 

And I loved it. 

I trace my hand up and down Harry's chest lightly, my finger outlining the long arrays of tattoos. Now that I had seen most of them I had to say, my favorite by far had to be the moth on the center of his chest.

I didn't have a particular reason as to why it was, I just liked the way it was displayed; big and grand. I also liked that it wasn't a butterfly. It showed how a moth–something normally seen as ugly– could also be incredibly beautiful.

I could feel the heat radiating off him, warming the bed and almost the entire room. 

He shifts his body, his hand going to trace circles on my back as if to return the gesture.