His Territory | Harry Styles

Abandonment and Development.

commitment:(noun)

1. the state or quality of being dedicated to a cause, activity, etc. "the company's commitment to quality." -synonyms: dedication, devotion, allegiance, loyalty, faithfulness, fidelity, bond, adherence, attentiveness "her commitment to her students continued undiminished"

2. an engagement or obligation that restricts freedom of action. "with so many business commitments time for recreation was limited." -synonyms: responsibility, obligation, duty, tie, charge, liability, burden, pressure; undertaking, task, engagement, arrangement. "he resigned because of the pressure of other commitments."

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"Needle and the thread gotta get you out of my head. Needle and the thread, gonna wind up dead."

Song - Stitches

Artist - Shawn Mendes

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Joe

I wheeled myself into Harry's loungeroom, I stared at the massive television hanging on the far wall. Although my eyes are glued to the black screen, my mind is elsewhere.

Is Harry going to propose to me? Am I ready for that kind of commitment?

Probably not.

There's just so much happening in my life at the moment, and I'm not sure if I'm ready for marriage just yet.  Maybe I have it all wrong? Maybe it isn't an engagement ring and it's a promise ring. I hope it's a promise ring because I'd fucking hate to say no to him. 

Rejecting Harry would ruin me, it would ruin us. 

I don't want to say no to him but I'd have to.

Right?

Wrong, I don't have to do anything. I love him, so if Harry thinks we're ready to take that step, then I'll take it with him. 

I hope.

My phone suddenly vibrates on the kitchen bench. 

I'm sick of being in this wheelchair. 

I wheel myself over to crutches resting on the wall near the sofa, placing my good leg on the ground I pull myself off the seat of the wheelchair and rest my body against the wall. My hand wrap around the crutches handles as I place my broken leg on the ground. 

Surprisingly my leg isn't what hurts the most, it's my ribs. But I manage to make it over to the kitchen bench and pick up my phone.

Three missed calls from Luke, eleven text messages. 

I dial his number.

After two rings Luke answers, "Joe, shit, I'm so sorry-" His voice is laced with sadness. "I-I tried to talk her out of it, b-but-"

"What's going on? Luke? Where's mum?" Fear overtakes my body and causes it to tremble. 

I hear a small sob from the other end.

Luke's crying, he rarely ever cries. "J-Joe, she's gone-"

"Gone? What do you m-mean gone?" Is my mum dead? "Luke! What happened? Is mum okay?"

"What? yeah, she's fine, ooh! I'm sorry sis, I didn't mean it like that--we--um, w-we-"

"Luke! Spit it out!" 

I wish to god I hadn't asked him, what he says next makes me gasp. "M-mum moved home, she's in Melbourne. I-I'm at the airport, my plane l-leaves in five minutes... J-Joe I'm really sorry, I guess mum couldn't handle seeing you hurt so-"