Empire // h.s. au

Drunken Goodbye

Harry Styles

Sitting in a room with Samantha was like being exposed to a constant poison. Except this poison was her perfume and her eyes, which was about a million times worse than being poisoned. 

I couldn't help but glance at the ring that sat on her finger. It made her fingers look even smaller and added a sense of shine to her petite hands. 

Her face was so incredibly distracting, however. Her lips curved beautifully and her hair fell perfectly around her shoulders. She was a vision. Her blonde hair shined and her eyes sparkled. Looking at her pained me. 

It was her voice, though, that really got me. The sweet, slight rasp that she spoke. Her voice wasn't some pitchy, annoying voice. It was smooth and warm. 

"So, the women's line, it sounds like it's gonna be great," Louis said, wrapping up the meeting. "Thanks for coming in Harry." 

"If my money is being spent, might as well know why," I said to him, my distraction evident. 

"Sounds like the typical Harry Styles, workaholic and overinvolved. I've missed you mate, how was England?" Louis asked, bringing up the inevitable. Leaving for London had been compulsive and stupid, but I couldn't stay near Samantha. And going home to my mother and sister seemed like the best option at the time. 

I did do business while I was there, but not enough to have actually felt productive.

"Rainy, per usual," I responded.

"How's Gem? And your mum?" Louis wondered, innocent of course. Samantha and I had never discussed my family in much detail. It wasn't something I liked to talk about. They were all I had ever had before my business.

"Lovely, bought my mum a house while I was there," I admitted, proud of myself. I had always promised her a beautiful home far north in the woods and I had given her that. She loved it. 

"Congrats mate, my sisters have been begging me to bring them up here for apartment shopping. I think they're under the impression I'm paying," Louis chuckled. Samantha let out a small laugh from the corner of the room. Out of habit I glanced at her, meeting eyes. She sent me the slightest of smiles before returning her gaze to the book in her lap. 

I felt so numb. Even more so than before Samantha, which was saying quite a lot. She had warmed me, then left me. 

"Speaking of London," Louis continued. "Have you discussed any further with the board about a possible new branch?"

"Not much," I admitted. "I would love to go back, but as of right now it seems like an impossiblity. A liability even."

"I miss it, " Louis said, sighing. "There's just something about being somewhere where your voice doesn't sound weird."

"I feel that way everyday," Samantha said, earning a laugh from Louis. Her dry humor always made me laugh, so containing the current chuckle that was threatening to erupt from my throat was difficult. 

She glanced at me once again, her eyes soft and kind. I had missed her so much it physically hurt. In a short period of time she had become my priority. The person I actually enjoyed to be around. But I should have known it wouldn't last. I wasn't meant to have the happy ending. Yet, she was. 

And her's was with Luke. The insufferable d-bag who didn't deserve her. 

But I could never say that.

Because I didn't deserve her either.

~

Dinner was made when I got home. My maid had left the food out and it was still warm. She must have seen my car pull up and bolted, knowing I hadn't been in a good mood these past few weeks. 

I took a bite of the food, aimlessly chewing. Nothing really seemed to have taste anymore. 

Except whiskey.

Whiskey always had taste.

Speaking of, I grabbed the bottle of the counter and poured a glass. The inebriate went smooth down my throat. I poured another glass.

Drinking my sorrows had never seemed more relevant. Glass after glass slowly dulled the ache in my chest. The numbness taking over even further. The light feeling provided a fog over the memories of Samantha and her beautiful face. 

My thoughts travelled to her eyes and I felt my fist come in contact with the countertop. Pure granite wasn't good for hands. 

The blood trickled but I ignored it. I felt no pain.

I couldn't. 

Not when I didn't have her.

Before I could figure out what I was doing I had my jacket on and my shoes on. I began to walk outside into the cold weather. A bottle was under my jacket and I ignored the weird stares from those around me. They looked at me and my hand like I was a crazy person.

Maybe I was. But how could I care.

I hadn't travelled on foot in New York in months. I had always just trusted Bruno to drive me. It was easier. But the walk was refreshing, but the alcohol in me proved otherwise. My feet led me towards the apartment I had picked Samantha up from too many times to count. 

As soon as it was in eyesight I reconsidered what I was doing. I wasn't this guy.

Or was I?

I began to walk to the buzzers, finding the number and pressing it.

Her voice came through, confusion and exhaustian. I hadn't even realized it was 2 am. 

Damn.

"Hello?" she said sweetly, her voice kind.

"Samantha?" I said, she gasped at my voice, hanging up. I sighed, sitting on the steps, taking a sip from the bottle. She wouldn't see me. Not shocking.

A click from behind me revealed otherwise.

"What the hell are you doing her?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself. She was in shorts and a big sweatshirt. 

"I miss you," I slurred, my voice faltering in and out of raspy and crackly. I sounded drunk.

Because I am.

"Are you drunk right now? Seriously, Harry? Luke is upstairs sleeping, this is completely inappropriate," she muttered, her voice harsh and cold. Different than before.

"I can't sleep," I told her, my words loopy. 

"Why is that?" her voice sounded cruel and annoyed.

"Because I need you," I said.

She looked at me with an intense stare. "I'm calling you a cab home."

"Take me home, please. Just walk me," I told her, biting my lip. She looked at me, studied my face for the sincerity. "I won't try anything, I just don't think I should go alone. I shouldn't have even walked here."

She sighed, "Fine." 

She crossed her arms and began to walk, expecting me to follow. I did.

We walked in step. Neither of us talking. Me in my own drunken world and her in a soft, confused one. 

The intensity between us was painful. I wanted her deeply but she didn't want me. She had a fiance. An asshole fiance, but still a fiance. 

It took us five minutes to reach my apartment. We stood in front of my door her glaring at me.

"You need to stop," she said, closing her eyes in a pained look. "We can't keep doing this to eachother."

"But-"

"Goodbye, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow."