Harry Styles
I'd been sitting on the floor of the guest room waiting for Zayn to wake up for about three hours now.
Well... I didn't sleep at all, but that wasn't any news. It was around 1 p.m. and I hadn't seen Cleo ever since our ugly fight last night, and I just knew she hadn't slept as well.
Fuck.
I replayed what happened over and over again inside my head, and I also made up countless imaginary scenarios in which I tried to say the right thing, because I only seemed to talk more shit.
I fucked up, I knew that.
But it was in the heat of the moment and we say things we didn't mean, and I shouldn't have mentioned Niall.
As much as I thought she should talk about him and handle what happened, I could never push her into facing something she wasn't ready to face. It would only backfire, the way it actually did.
However, I had this terrible habit of thinking I knew which was the best time for her to process things, but it wasn't up to me. I couldn't make choices for her or try to hide things until I decided to, I knew it was her right to know and I really fucked up.
The biggest issue was the lie... taking more than just a few days to tell her.
It actually took me months, and either way she found out in the worst possible manner.
I regretted it, I really did.
But I also knew she had the right to be upset. Cleo didn't need my protection, I was well aware of that... but that didn't mean I wouldn't want to keep her safe. And she had no one to keep her safe from herself. I shouldn't have said a lot of things and we shouldn't have done a lot of things. We were on edge for a while now, this was the worst possible timing.
Well, I had to hold myself back before we could actually fight, for starters. I wasn't used to this, but if I fought back just like I planned on doing, we'd end up killing each other or getting seriously hurt.
Cleo was too affected and vulnerable, I had to stay strong and try to control the situation. Not controlling her, that's not what I meant. Just making sure I didn't fuck up any more than I already had... which I ended up doing anyways.
My face hurt a lot, and I had showered and gotten dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, which was all I could find in the guest bedroom because I knew Cleo was upstairs and I didn't want to go there.
I also changed the bandage on my shoulder and put some ice on the ugly bruises on my face and my lips.
Cleo was strong, I forgot that because she hadn't punched me in about seven months now.
Sometimes it slipped my mind that we had actually tried to kill each other before, what happened last night was pretty calm compared to that.
We always had our practice fights as equals and I punched her and she punched me, but we ended up laughing about it later. Last night wasn't practice and it wasn't fun, it was our first real fight as a couple.
She could easily overpower me when it came to fighting, but I was stronger... I lost control when I held her against the wall and I knew she'd have bruises around her neck because of that.
They probably wouldn't show because she still had bruises from the collar there.
Shit, she had a point about the sex. I had countless opportunities of telling her the truth about Louis and I indeed ignored it as if it didn't matter. Who was I to know if it mattered or not? Cleo wasn't in a good place mentally, but I knew her better than what I made it seem.
