Harry Styles Oneshots // english

You Gave Up On Us #2

"How much did you say it was?" I had asked while I'd let my eyes wander over the empty walls of the kitchen.
The estate agent had named me the price for the apartment and informed me once more about how it came with the couch, table, bed, wardrobes and chairs included.

"There are even plates, cups and glasses in those cupboards over there!" she'd exclaimed and opened the kitchen cabinet located above the sink. It contained three, blue mugs.

"Great," I'd smiled and told the woman that I'd take it.

That had been a month ago. Now I was standing in the exact same spot I had stood when I'd made the decision to leave my former home, two bags placed by my feet and several cartoon boxes in the car downstairs.
The flat I'd gotten was nice, but it wasn't a home. I had spent the past month preparing everything for my move; informing the post about my new location, printing out routes I could take with the tube to reach work and making a list of the grocery stores nearby. Part of me had known that I only did all that to stall time and that I could have moved into my apartment without having the estate agency giving me one final call. But I hadn't been able to bring myself to it. Deep down I'd never stopped hoping he'd come back to me and would make up for anything that had ever given me a reason to leave. Now it was too late.

I missed him. I questioned if leaving him had been a good idea every day. Staring at the bags at my feet and the empty kitchen where I'd cook my first supper-for-one meal tonight, made my heart ache and my eyes water.
Still, there was no going back for me now. I switched off my phone and began helping the few friends I'd asked to aid with my move, bring up the boxes.

"You're sure you're fine?" my friend asked, concern in her eyes. "You're welcome to eat at Aiden and my place tonight."

I shook my head and declined her offer. It was better to get used to it as quickly as possible.
After they left I went to the Sainsbury's across the street and bought everything I needed to make food that would make me happy. Once back in my flat I began throwing everything I'd bought on top of a pizza dough and shoved the heavily topped pizza into the oven. After, I changed into comfortable cloths and that was it. I had nothing left to do and finally it started to sink in just how lonely I was. My teeth pulled at my bottom lip and I allowed my body to fall back on the mattress, shielding my face with both hands. The silence ruling my flat was making my ears ring and all I wanted was cry, any appetite long gone.
The expression on Harry's face when he'd watched me pack my things and organize everything was still engraved into my mind. The green of his eyes had been swimming in tears and his mouth kept closing and opening as if he'd constantly debated with himself whether or not he should say anything. I remembered noticing how he'd kept his fists clenched tightly. I remembered how every move I made felt heavy, as if my body wanted to refuse my demands. Anything so that it could stay with Harry. But I'd forced myself and left him anyway. I'd made my bed and now I had to lay in it.

It had been two nights ago when Harry had broken down by my feet after I told him about my decision. He'd spent all morning of the following day trying to change my mind, promising me to lay the world to my feet should that be what I wanted. He hadn't understood that all I'd wanted was not a grand gesture, but the simple ones. I wanted him to be kind to me again, inform me of his whereabouts if he stayed out longer after work, and most of all I'd wanted him to tell me he loved me. I didn't want the world by my feet, I wanted our world. Our life as partners. But because he didn't seemed to understand that, I knew that leaving him for good was the only choice left, that would save our happiness.

And yet I missed him so much I felt as if my heart would burst. I didn't even notice that I'd started crying before my cheeks were wet and sticky and my nose having trouble to breath properly.