Predictable // Harry Styles

(9)Fighting for Us

so, an update of when this story is ending - The 15th Chapter! oh gosh, this is going to be a bit sad for me :o

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I wanted to scream and tell him to stop. Tell him that leaving wouldn't help anything. Let him know that it wouldn't change how I felt about him and that we could work through this.

It wasn't that easy.

I don't know how much time had passed when I heard Ryan start to cry. I bolted right up to make sure he was okay. I hadn't been a great mother so far, one that was either crying or lost in her own thoughts.

Ryan's blue eyes peeked at me through his eyelashes. They were glassy, and tears were spilling down from them. It was my maternal instinct to pick him up, holding him in my arms and kissing his nose. Liam's nose.

"I'm so sorry baby, Mommy's so sorry for all of this." I whispered, kissing his forehead and cheeks. "I love you Ry, mommy loves you so much my angel."

His face started to look sick, and then a small hiccup came from him. I couldn't help but giggle a bit at his hiccup. Ryan looked very confused, but he was hiccuping again before he could understand what was happening.

"Eee!" Charlotte screeched, laughing after she did. I looked over to her and gasped. She was standing in her play pen, holding onto the sides and looking at me expectantly. My baby girl was standing, all by herself.

"Lottie! Look at you!" I said, walking to hers and giving her a big smile. "You're standing baby girl!" And suddenly, I wasn't so sad anymore. I wasn't exactly crying that Harry had left. No, I was smiling because my daughter was making me happy.

Hours had passed. Instead of a brightly colored one, there was a dark blue sky and a few grey clouds. I was freezing, only wearing my jacket. Snowflakes were tickling my nose, blankets of snow getting in my boots. It was my fault, really. Leaving like that. I just left Sophie, and it made me sick. I left Sophie with the babies, and I didn't say a word. All I thought about was what I thought. I didn't even stop to think how much this hurt Sophia.

Just as I was passing a store, my eyes caught sight of something in the clerk's window. No, it wasn't a piece of jewellery, or a nice scarf to give her as a token of my apology. It was a mirror. A mirror that reflected someone who had changed, who had become something different. I turned to face it, peering at my own reflection.

My hair. It hadn't been like this when I left. It was messier, unkempt and darker now. The jacket around me was grey, a darker grey that went along with my dark hair. The snow in the background of my figure made everything darker, more wrong. This wasn't who I felt like I was, was it? My stern gaze, scrunched up eyebrows that framed my eyes that seemed confused.

I had never been this person before. The person that looked upset and angry and confused and everything bad. I was different, I wasn't me. The lump in my throat was aching, my eyes becoming blurry. I was on the verge of crying.

And I wasn't sure exactly who I was anymore. Was I Harry, the person who always stayed close to his loved ones and kept on grinning like an idiot all day around? Or, was this Harry - a depressed, fame changed mess who forgot to call his mom for a whole month and cheated on the perfect girl - the new, disappointing me.

I knew the answer, but I didn't want to believe it. Harry, the screw up that fame changed. The one that wrecked everything.

I couldn't handle the mirror anymore. I darted my eyes away quickly. If it weren't for me, Soph would be living with two children. She would have her brother visiting, she wouldn't have to deal with me. She would be happier without me.

The pub was just there. It was warm inside, giving my trembling fingers the heat they needed. The stool was a bit uncomfortable, but I ignored it.

"One beer, please." I said to the girl.

The bar tender nodded away, already getting the glass for me. It wasn't like I had always been a person to drink when I was upset with myself.

"You look pretty messed up."

I turned to where the voice had come from, surprised to see an older man there. He had a small, greyish beard growing from his chin, and a green sweater on that looked like it was made in the eighties.

"I'm sure I'm not the only one." I mumbled faintly.

He chuckled deeply to himself, pushing aside his empty glass. "Son, I'll tell you something important," He paused, eyeing me closely "when I was your age I had lots of problems. I had bills to pay, a family to feed. A grandma that nagged me that I wasn't doing things the proper way. A bakery that needed 'tending to."

It was odd, talking to this man who seemed old enough to be my grandfather. It even seemed cliche a bit. "I had problems and I dealt with 'em. Now I'm sure you'll just pose me as an old man that's drunk and lonely," He laughed to himself "And I'll tell you all but the last part is true."

"You're drunk then?"

"Yes, but I've learned to handle my liquor." He pressed his lips together. "Do you need someone to talk to?"

Talking about my problems could be seen as girly, and not very manly. But to be honest, I just needed to. There wans't anyone I felt could handle everything I had to tell. Not even someone like my mom who was always there for me.

A glass full of beer was placed in front of me, and the sip I took from it made it's burning way down. It shocked me, giving me the confidence to tell this man, that I didn't even know, my problems.

"Sophie. She's- She's my fiance. I love her, but I've never treated her the way she deserves. We've never had it like a fairy tale, I mean when I met her, she was pregnant and I didn't know..." I told him, everything from the beginning. It felt kind of weird, but I guess the guy was here to listen because he didn't interrupt me or leave. He listened. Sometimes I saw his eyebrows go up high, like he was surprised, but not a word escaped his mouth. "And I love her. But my bestfriend is her babies' dad and I don't know where I fit in. Because I'm just there. I'm just someone in the way, I guess."

When I finished, I realized I really hadn't been breathing ever since I stepped through the doors to see Sophie a week ago. I had been under the lie that everything would be fine. But when I said everything I felt and everything I didn't feel and everything in between, I took the deepest breath and I felt better. They don't lie when they say a weight is lifted off your chest when you get something out you've been dying to say.

I sure didn't feel like dancing or singing. But I felt so many emotions and they felt real. Nothing was pushing me to the ground, and even the uncomfortable feeling from the stool didn't bother me. It felt okay.

He stared, but I just couldn't look back because the tears in my eyes wasn't something I wanted to see. So many emotions were running through me right now, I didn't know what to do with them.

"Well son, you are messed up." He said smoothly, turning to face the bar again. I was expecting something more like a speech. "But that's alright. Everyone's messed up. You've just got to learn of a way to deal with it."

He went back to drinking his fresh glass of rye or whiskey or whatever it was. The air in my lungs was waking me up from whatever I had been before. I was, yet again, changed. This time, though, it didn't feel bad. It was like I had taken off all those layers of drinking and cheating and changing into a person I didn't even like and was given a clean slate

I waved to the man, leaving a bill on the bar. And I left. I knew exactly where I was going this time, and knew just what I was doing. I would fix everything. I wouldn't be depressed and unsure of what the hell I was going to do. I had a plan.