BLUE [lirry] [discontinued]

08: he ran

eight | (he ran) faster than i could ever bear to

He's gone. Harry has fled from the scene and left me here to perish. It feels like déjà vu, looking at the note he inscribed that sits on the bedside table. The table beside the bed that we made love in. Or at least, I thought we did. Did we? If it was making love, would he have stayed instead of bolting away?

He talked as if I was enough for him to settle down and stay with for the rest of our breathing days. Why did he just leave me here with all the memories we had created in his own goddamn vacation house?

I sense my throat drying up and my eyes watering in response to my longing stare at the note. What was written on the paper makes the predicament worse.

Liam,

I know you must be mad, if not standing at the bedside table with tears in your eyes. But I don't want you to cry. As much as you may hate me, or you may be hurting right now, I don't want you to waste it on me. I wasn't worth it, not for you. You'll find someone better than me, someone who will treat you better than I could ever dream.

I know what I'm doing is wrong, leaving you in the house with all the memories we made and personally, where I actually felt like life was worth a second chance. You gave me that light, and that's when I realized what I was doing.

You may not understand now, and as long as I live, I don't think you ever will. I can't bear to explain it to you. If I could I would, but right now, the timing is just not in our favor.

Regardless of this, I just want you to remember that no matter how much you're crying, despite my pleading you not to, you will find someone. I don't deserve you Liam Payne, but I wouldn't take back this week if I had the chance.

You're still my prince, and you always will be.

I'll come back for you when the time is right. Who knows what we'll be then, but, at least let me see your beautiful smiling face when it does come around.

- H

Tears are dripping down my chin as I conclude my reading, dropping onto the mattress and crying. Crying because he doesn't understand that I wasn't just his better, but contrary to how much I'm hurting, he's still my better. That Harry may have found it in him in himself to leave me, but I couldn't begin to find it in me to leave him.

Eventually I calm down, packing up my things as one of his servants waits to help me with my bags. I can't look at the bed let alone any of the people that assist him in the house.

I consider whether I should take the note or not for awhile. It was the only thing I had to keep as a souvenir from this hell of a trip, and maybe when (if) he comes back, I can shove it in his face and scream at him for ten minutes about the indecency of leaving someone alone in their own house.

So I oblige, shoving it into my bag. It's almost as if it adds more weight, just from it's significance.

I feel my eyes burning as I exit the house through the back door, keeping my head down as my bags are taken to the van waiting to take me to the airport.

I pause when I pass the mural. My head tilts up to look at the names of thousands of people scattered all around the wall where my name now lays. I'm just like them now; forgotten. Harry probably doesn't even remember half of these people. I'm going to be just another person that fell under his spell.