Just keep breathing

Chapter 54

Harry's perspective

The ceiling needs repainting. I realise as I lay flat on my back on my bed staring up at the vast white surface above me, and noticing the small, almost invisible cracks in the paint.

I should get someone to take care of that I think idly, stretching my arms out above my head.

Why the fuck am I thinking about paint? I should get up before I lose whatever little bit of sanity I still possess. It's only 8:36 am, but somehow it feels like my whole world has been turned upside down in the hour or so since I first opened my eyes. How did I manage to fuck this up so badly?

Internally kicking myself, I push my aching limbs into a sitting position. After struggling all night to get hold of Katie, I eventually went to the gym to try and distract myself and work out some of the anxiety swirling in my belly, but judging by how tight my muscles feel this morning, I think I may have overdone it.

I gaze out the huge window across from me and notice with a smirk that it's raining, unusual for LA, and not just a little trickle either. Sheets of cascading water are falling from the pewter grey clouds hanging over the high rises and battering the glass in front of me. Good. Miserable weather for a miserable day. Appropriate.

Normally I'm not the kind of person to mope about in bed feeling sorry for myself. But this morning I can't seem to find the energy to do anything at all, even the idea of dragging myself into the shower sounds as daunting as if someone had suggested I go climb Everest. I reach over to grab my phone and try one last time to call her back "Please pick up Katie." I say quietly as the repetitive ringing plays in my ear.

"Hi! This is Katie. Sorry I missed you! Please leave a message." her slightly too high pitched voice which betrays her anxiety, echoes through the speaker.

Only my girl could manage to get nervous recording a bloody answering machine message.

Nope, not your girl anymore Styles. Fuck.

"Katie it's me, again, baby. I'm so sorry. Please let me make this right. Just... Just call me back, OK?"

I toss the phone to the foot of the bed in anger after ending the call and watch it bounce twice against the covers before coming to rest face down, the bright pink cover seeming to mock me with its cheerfulness.

"Why the hell didn't I just tell her what had happened straight away?" I question the empty room, shaking my head and flopping back down against the pillows in frustration.

Because I didn't want to upset her when she was in the hospital, the rational part of my brain responds, yeah, that excuse was all well and good on the day, but... she's right, I should have told her by now, I shouldn't have let her find out like that.

I've had plenty of opportunities since she's been back home. I always managed to come up with a reason why it wasn't the right time at that moment though, not wanting to spoil a pleasant conversation by admitting the horrible truth, but now its come back to bite me in the arse in the worst way.

She's never hidden her trust issues from me. If anything, she's probably made it clear more times than I'd like that she didn't trust me to stick around long term. What was it she said again? That she'd rather I wait until we've broken up and I've moved on to someone more suitable before I write a song about her?

I should have known she'd react this way and if I'm honest with myself, I can't really blame her.

Would I have done anything differently if I'd have seen photos of her kissing another man?

My jealousy would have been in full throttle, and I don't know if I could have controlled it enough to forgive and forget when you add in the fact that I also tried to hide it from her. How can I expect her to trust me?