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*・゚゚・*:

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*・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・*

   Silence.

   The long car ride from the club to the hotel to get my things and now on the long winding roads to the airport have been filled with an unbearable awkward silence. What's worse is that time seems to be crawling by slower than Christmas, with the entire journey so far only taking about twenty minutes. However, it feels like we've been driving all night, and I just want to go home. Green lights flash on the dashboard that read 11:47 on August 1, 2014, a mere thirteen minutes until the time changes and signals the beginning of a new day.

   Although silence plagues Harry and I in the physical world, in my mind, and I'm sure in his, there is anything but silence. Sitting here, nothing but numbness and regret coursing through my body, I stare out the window with my body angled away from Harry, mentally screaming at myself for everything I've done.

   I am no longer any different than the people I've spent so many years hating. After years of despising my own father and mistress turned wife, I have done nothing but take on my father's legacy. And perhaps it's in a different way, but I still did it knowingly. The cheating apple doesn't fall far from the cheating tree I guess.

   Harry kissed me. Harry Styles kissed me in some dirty club bathroom while his high class girlfriend was outside and completely oblivious. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. At first, when his lips first grazed my own before the passion took over, I had every intention of stopping him and berating him for his actions.

   I wonder if Celia tried to fight it at first too, or if she simply didn't care that Charles had a family at home.

   Maybe that makes me worse. I did fight it- called him out on it and screamed in his face even, but my need for him won out. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway.

   "Why did you lie to me?" I demand, the anger and guilt getting to be too much as I whip around to face Harry who has his hands gripping the wheel so tight that his knuckles are white.

   I watch anxiously as his body tenses even more than it already is, his breath hitching in his throat as the street lights lining the freeway cast a shadow across his high cheekbones. The way his body stays so stiff despite the shaky breath he eventually lets out makes it appear as if he has a knife lodged deep within his soft and delicate skin.

   "I didn't," his accent finally states with dull undertones.

   At his words, I cross my arms over my chest and roll my eyes, the car seeming to zoom faster down the road as we pass underneath a sign alerting us of our proximity to the airport. "Oh spare me the bullshit," I grumble.

   "I didn't lie. If you would just let me explain then maybe you would understand," Harry insists, struggling to keep his wild eyes on the road seeing as their green gaze continues to find me.

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