MAGNETIC [H.S.]

27. what a lie

songs:
what a time- julia michaels
still- niall horan

God, I would've given anything not to feel the way I was in that moment. I felt him the second he walked into the bar, my body reacted to him before my mind could keep up.

It had been weeks since I'd felt like that. Weeks of replaying that day in my sleep, dreaming of us when I couldn't control my mind, and waking up begging it to stop.

I tried to be prepared for this, I smoked enough to calm myself down but I felt very much sober when my lungs constricted and my hands were shaking. It was like I had to force myself to stay still, my whole being wanted to jump him. I wasn't sure if I wanted to tackle him and hold on or tackle him and throw punches, but I couldn't do either in the middle of Rudy's, so I dipped to the bathroom to compose myself.

I stood in front of the mirror, smoothed my hands down over the skimpy dress that clung to me, and told myself one more time that I was only going for Louis. Lou needed his family right now, he'd had a rough week.

Kenna left him two days ago. He came home from work and she was sitting on the floor. She told him they were just too different and she didn't see them reconciling. She didn't want to live in a constant state of bickering anymore, and I guess he couldn't blame her for that. He'd been having a hard time with it though, he'd been avoiding me and I was sure that Harry had been getting him drunk and parading him around to bars as a wingman.

I was sure that Harry probably had a slew of one-night stands coming in and out of the revolving door of his apartment. Probably tiny little blondes or other elegant women with hourglass bodies. I told myself he was whispering sweet things to them, coaxing them on while his hands spread over their bodies. Sometimes I swore I could hear him moan some random woman's name in my nightmares.

Why did he have to be it for me? Why was someone so toxic and horrid the only person I knew I'd be content with? No one else made me feel satisfied. No one pushed me like him, lit me on fire like him, or made me melt. I tried, I really did. I tried to close my eyes and let that beautiful man from a week or so ago make me melt for him, but it didn't work. I faked my orgasm and let him cuddle me to sleep while I laid with my eyes wide open, staring at the pink and blue tie-dyed sweatshirt that was peeking out from the floor of my closet.

That night I dreamed that we were young again, and I was walking to the park. It wasn't so much a dream as a memory really, I was just reliving it in my sleep. I was walking to the park to meet Zayn and Louis, it was getting dark but there was a warm breeze and plenty of streetlights so I wasn't frightened. When I arrived, Harry was sitting on the bench with his face attached to the neck of a girl in our chemistry class. She was beautiful, she was smart, she was nice to me, I had no reason to be mad at her, but I could have ripped her hair out of her scalp at that moment.

24 hours prior Harry had been sitting in my bathroom, hair falling all around him as I trimmed it for him. He'd been snarky that day, and we fought almost the whole time, but when I finished it he'd pulled me into his lap and kissed right under my ear before whispering, "Thank you, poppet. You're good to me," and then ravaging my neck with sloppy pecks of his lips. I had been a giggling mess, clinging to his shoulders, my heart was so happy then, beating wildly for him.