Positive. A Marcus Butler fanfiction.

Chapter 12: The truth.

~Chapter Twelve: The truth~

   
I wake up feeling really sick.

I look over my shoulder to see a bed hair Harry.

I try to move his muscular arm off of me but he just tightens his grip.

"Stay with me, please" Harry sleepily says with his eyes still closed.

"I'm going to be sick again, Harry. Let me go" He lets me go and I run to the toilet and throw up what feels like my whole stomach.

I wash my face and mouth out, then go to get my phone.

I walk out of the 'en suite' to see Harry now sitting up in bed looking at me.

"Are you ill?" Harry asks as he watches me walk to my phone.

"Yeah, I think I've caught a stomach bug" I mentally wince at the lie, I know the real reason and it's definitely not a stomach bug. He deserves to know the truth.

"Harry, I have something to say.." I sit down on the bed and breathe in ready for what I was about to say.

Harry looks up nodding for me to finish.

"I..I don't know why but I don't feel the same way, about us" I look down at the bed not wanting to look at Harry.

"W..w..what's that supposed to mean?" I feel Harry staring at me.

"I..think I've fell out of love with you"

Fresh tears slide down my cheeks.

Never in one million years did I think I would be saying this.

I was always told by people in our friend group back in Bristol, how we'd be the ones to get married first. And I always pictured it. Harry was my first everything and I wanted him to be my last.

"Wait..what? You met someone else? because when we spoke on the phone you was excited to see me" I look up at Harry, he has a tear falling down his cheek.

"No Harry, I just don't feel the same, ever since the other.." I stop, I'm not ready to say it.

"The other what Laila? huh?" Harry spits getting up from the bed.

"I'm sorry, I got drunk! I never meant to do this to you" I watch Harry's fist clench as more tears fall from his eyes.

"DO WHAT LAILA?" Harry shouts at me.

His raised voice scares me a little.

"I..I slept with someone" I close my eyes tight as all the tears I was holding in flood out.

"Right" Harry spits.

"I get drunk Laila, but I've never gone and fucked a stranger, and I'd never put you down as the sort to.." I cut Harry off.

"Oh so, I'm a sort? or are you looking for the word 'whore'? Moving somewhere, and within three days fucking someone because I was drunk? I know Harry, I know."

I look up at him. He looks like he has sympathy for me for a minute then it all changes back as his eyes widen.

"Wait a second! You being sick? Oh please don't tell me it's what I think it is! Baby pleas-" His voice is cut off with a sob as he grips his hair with both his hands.

I don't know what to do or say other than to look at Harry break down in front of me.

"I'm so sorry" I whimper as I try to wipe my tear stained cheeks.

"And you know for definite?" Harry stops pulling at his hair.

"Not yet, I need to do tests, but all the signs from the other nigh-" Harry cuts me off.

"So there's no chance of it being mine?"

I think in my head. The timing from when me and Harry last had sex, it just wouldn't be right.

I gently shake my head not wanting to fully answer him.

He starts to grab his stuff, his hands trembling.

"It's best if I go"

I quickly jump of the bed and go to stop Harry.

"I just want you to know that I never intended for this to happen, ever!" I barely whisper looking up at him.

"Just know that even though I really want to hate you right now, I can't and I never will. I love you so much" He gently presses his lips to my head, as he walks out my bedroom shutting the door behind him.

I slide down my bedroom door crying into my hands.