Forced to become Mrs Styles (A Harry Styles AU)

Chapter eighty one.

Chapter eighty one.

(AN – PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT)

EMMA’S POV:

‘’Where the fuck do you think you’re going’’ I shout as Harry storms towards the front door.

‘’Anywhere you’re not’’ He shouts back.

‘’don’t you fucking dare’’ I scream.

‘’psychotic bitch’’ He mutters not too quietly before slamming the door behind him.

It’s only in the moment that he leaves that I allow myself to show my ture emotions. I’m not shouting, I’m not screaming, I’m not angry. I’m crying, I’m hurt, I’m upset.

I’m broken.

The past week since Harry and I have been home has been made up of about 80% fights and the other 20% making up.

Yeah making up is fun, in fact there’s nothing more fun, exciting and lust filled than make up sex.

But when it gets to the point that every time we’re having sex it’s technically make up sex it loose somewhat all of its appeal.

The fights haven’t even been about anything much at all, it’s been over stupid everyday things like Harry not cleaning up after himself or what TV channel we watch. But when it comes to Harry and I things are never that simple, I get over emotional and that drives Harry insane.

He hasn’t been very sensitive about the whole situation though you’d think that considering my current as he labelled it ‘mental health state’ that he’d be a bit more understanding to my over reactions and chaotic mood swings.

But instead he’s been firing right back at me making me feel ten million times more shit than I already do.

I assumed being married would make our relationship better and complete all the gaps created by my fucked up mind.

But I guess I couldn’t have been more wrong. We’ve never fought like this before.

It’s safe to say the honeymoon phase is well and truly over.

I walk towards the mirror rubbing at my now smudged eye makeup.

All I see is mess. I’m a mess, I’m a disgusting fat, ugly mess.

No wonder Harry acts like this he’s disgusted by me. He can do so much better.

He’d be better off without me.

The whole world would be better off without me.

Here it is again, the darkness.

It creeps in on me without me even realising it, it always knows when to hit me.

It hits whenever I’m at my most weakest. It sucks all the light from around me and replaces it with pitch black nothings.

There’s no air in the darkness, it chokes you up so you cannot breath.

It shuts down everything without you, making even the simplest task such as getting out of bed impossible.

Maybe if I take enough of the darkness in they’ll be none left for anyone else. That’s one thing I’m certain of, none deserves to feel this way but me.

At least if I’m full of pain it means there’s less pain for everyone else right?

Turning on the shower I strip from my clothing allowing it to crumple on the floor before setting inside the shower.