From the Dining Table

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(So, here's a thought. I thought the story was turning so boring so I did get a change for the book. Guess what? The change in POV!
Hope you enjoy.) _________________________________________________________________________
Harry's POV

"Woke up alone in this hotel room
Played with myself, where were you?
Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon
I've never felt less cool"

I woke with a sore body and a dry throat. I turned to see that it was already noon.

The little rays of sun couldn't peek into my room without reminding me of certain honey-coloured eyes and that's how I start my day. I cried again.

I couldn't move my body out of my bed. I felt powerless.

Destitute and lost: and I felt like the end was near even before I got to start the day.

The sunlight peeking in through the curtains seems so beautiful and serene. This is so unlike what I am feeling inside.

The room became my cocoon. Drinking out last night was another thing that I'm regretting right now. I can hardly remember shit.

I moved from my bed to see several missed calls and texts from friends and there was one from Nick,
"Got some last night? ;3"

I almost choked on my own spit.
What the fuck!

I immediately rang him up. After a few rings, he received the call with a perky tone,
"Styles got laid. Were you not?!"

I snickered, "Definitely not! What the fuck were you thinking sending me off with a complete jackass of a stranger, you bloody ass!"

I felt like shouting at him but didn't have the energy.

He laughed over the speaker,
"Seems like you're not getting laid anytime soon! At least not until you lower your bar a bit and not be so stuck up on Zayn's arse! Oh wait, should I say Zayn's d!ck!"

I knew I should've laughed but the mention of his name I almost couldn't come up with anything and just howled on the phone.

I cried till I couldn't feel anything anymore. Till I felt completed depleted of any life source and didn't have it in me to move about.

It was a good twenty minutes that before I heard the speaker on my phone,
"Harry baby, you done honey? I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought him up now."

I felt like I needed to clear it out; to stop him from apologising to me; to stop him from feeling guilty. Because he's not the reason I was crying. That I cried everyday for Zayn; that I am not the best when I have to wake up without him by my side.

But I couldn't find it in my voice to stop Nick from blabbering out.
"I am really sorry Harry. I didn't realise that mentioning his name would still hurt you so much."

I could hear him choke on his own words. I felt so bad for him.

"We haven't spoke since you went away
Comfortable silence is so overrated
Why won't you ever be the first one to break?
Even the phone misses your call, by the way
I saw your friend that you know from work
He said you feel just fine
I see you gave him my old T-shirt
More of what was once mine
I see it's written, it's all over his face
Comfortable silence is so overrated
Why won't you ever say what you want to say?"

"Hearing you cry Harry... I felt so bad. I've been such a shitty friend... asking you to drink and party out... and setting you up with friends and never aski-"

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