Harry Styles Imagines

Ever Since New York.

"I've been prayin', I never did before."

"Don't you dare lie to your next girl and say I hurt you. Don't you dare tell her I left you broken and alone. Don't you even think of telling her how amazing you treated me and how I walked away because I was selfish or didn't love you. You tell her the truth. I loved you. I supported you. I kissed the ground you walked on. I gave you my all. I gave you everything I had." The sobs wrack my already weakened body. I can't imagine how pathetic I look. Crying, whining, begging. It's naive really, to think my emotions could ever make him feel remorseful. "You don't get to sit here and pretend like you worked for me, like you actually put effort into us! I stayed home from uni. I got a petty job to keep busy. I moved away from all I have ever known!" Listing off the reasons as to why I was better than him seems cruel, but on paper, it was obvious who truly devoted more of themselves. "Where were you when I was crying because I missed you so much? Where were you when my sister got sick? Where were you when my mom lost her job?" He looks into my dull eyes, his are dead, emotionless, empty.

"I was on tour." He whispers.

"Where was I when you broke your foot? Where was I when you got sick halfway through promo season? Where was I when you started writing your album? Where was I when the group decided to separate?" He looks straight through me.

"By my side."

"So tell me, Harry. Why are you the one who gets to walk away? Why do you get to leave me like I meant nothing to you? What did I do to deserve this?" He is looking at the floor, shuffling on his feet uncomfortably. I can't stand how nonchalant he is acting; he's pretending like this doesn't hurt him, but I can tell he's breaking.

"I just don't want this anymore." He manages to choke out his inconsiderate answer. "I don't want the fighting. I don't want the back and forth. I don't want you blaming me for this stuff anymore." He sighs heavily and finally looks into my tear-filled eyes. "I can't keep coming home to you complaining and crying and acting like this life is so hard for you. I can't keep comforting you when I'm tearing at the seams trying to make this all work." A single tear slides down his cheek, and I can't help but be shocked at the slight sign of emotion escaping his usually stoic frame. "I love you. I love you more than anything or anyone, but I am not going to break myself and my spirit because you can't seem to accept my career."

"Is this what you think this is about? I'm missing you too much while you travel?" He nods as I suck in a harsh breath. "I just want you to understand where I am coming from, Harry. I'm not like your friends and family, I don't have anyone to lean on when you're gone. My family is in America. My friends are at Uni, my siblings are living their own separate lives."

"Maybe you should've made friends when you had the chance, instead of being stuck to my side for months on end."

This was it. This was the end.

"Wow. I'm sorry you feel that way." I mutter as I walk toward the kitchen. Dirty dishes become my main focus as I hear his footsteps approach a few moments later.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He whispers, putting his hand on my shoulder. I nudge him away and continue to run the water.

"No. Don't even think about coming back and apologizing. I'm not doing this. Not anymore." I scrub the plates until they're sparkling and even then, my anxiety and heartache don't diminish. Harry decides to go to sleep after thirty minutes of begging me to forgive him. I make my way to the bedroom, hoping and praying he's fast asleep while I do the unthinkable. Much to my dismay, he's sitting on his side of the bed, his back to me, it's moving in a weird pattern, almost like he's breathing too heavy for his own body's good.