Purpose (Harry Styles)

-un-

a/n: I'm trying to create for the story to be different and more innovative than its first version. I hope y'all are having a great day and if not, s'okay, breathe in and out, make some tea and relax. It's all gonna be okay. Love you all so much <3

Thanks for reading! 

  ❀  

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-Marina's POV-

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It was a perfect day, a perfect way to call it a night. I felt a little woozy or maybe it was just the effect of the champagne that made me a little tipsy. My steps were slow, a wavy smile evident on my lips and my face shining in the dark. I couldn't wait to crash into his arms and cuddle until sleep took over my body.

Where was Carter? I thought to myself when I switched on the lights of the hallway. We didn't own an insanely massive house. Rather we owned a home. A beautiful and a safe home which provided our souls a place, a haven to rest and love; each other. There was something about tonight, it seemed musical, lyrical and beautiful.

I undid the straps of my heels, left them in one of the corners and led my way. Carter left the party before time. One of his colleagues had called him out of the blue and told him that he was needed in the office immediately. I remember the way his thumb smoothed over my brow and the way his lips touched mine before he left.

I had a feeling that he was in there and reached home early before me.

At first it was all baffling. Confusing as life, but when I heard myself shouting, I knew this was all too real.

"Stop!" I yelled.

The stranger has her arms wrapped around his neck, his face hidden by the slim piece of clothing swathed across her bare shoulder. It was so fast, so unpredictably fast.

"Carter stop it!" the tears rushed down my cheeks in hot frenzy.

But there was no stopping.

It was like landing into a new sphere, a new place where he had the girl pinned beneath himself. She started making noise, moaned when he kissed her, marking her body as she wriggled under his grip.

And then he looked back at me.

"I love you Marina," He said with a sinister smile and eased into the girl. She moaned again; the bed thumped against the wall as their actions sped.

I open my eyes fast scared, angry and hurt. My chest is heaving in and out at a rapid pace; I'm taking in shallow breaths. There's pounding inside my head. All I know is that it hurts, very deep within.

I blink my eyes at first, run a hand through my hair unsettlingly. The walls of the room appear strange and new. This room is new and isn't mine. How did I end up here?

I feel warm, with the blanket covering my legs and waist until I push it off to sit up. There's a lingering urge to go back to sleep again and not feel like this. There are faint traces of last night alive. I remember running, walking down the streets barefoot and hanging around the railing of the suspension bridge with a very drunken and broken heart. It is not the continuous pounding that is making me screw my eyes shut even now, it's the fact and the reason which caused me to do so.