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*・゚゚・*:

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

Why did I say yes?

God, I'm such an idiot!

I let my emotions get the best of me, something I never used to do, and I said yes!

There were tears, and I couldn't breathe, and I just needed to be consoled, and Harry was doing exactly that, and then out of no where he just asked me to go to the one thing he knew I couldn't refuse, and of course I didn't!

He used my own tears against me! Who does that?

But then again, maybe he only asked me to go because he wanted to make me happy.

The latter is most definitely the truth, but that doesn't make my idiotic decision any better.

"How do I look?" I ask, fluffing out the black skirt of my midi dress and adjusting the puffy sleeves to my liking. The heels of my black boots creak across the floor of my bedroom as I center myself in front of the FaceTime screen on my phone. Blue eyes crinkle as red lips smile, her sparkly finger nails giving me a double thumbs up.

"Perfect," Taylor grins, however her sarcasm isn't lost on me, and my suspicions are only proven right when her cherry colored smile vanishes. "For a girl who's going to a very crowded concert with her very famous ex."

A loud scoff leaves my lips as I roll my eyes dramatically, flopping onto the bed with the phone now held loosely in my hands. "Taylor, I don't have time for your shit, okay. Spare me the feminist lecture please, I'm already slapping myself hard enough as it is. Look, he was crying and I was crying, and he just asked me out of nowhere, and I had just been through the most traumatic experience of my life, so sue me for getting caught up in his stupidly irresistible charm."

"I'm not judging you," she defends herself, yet her tone of voice says otherwise. "But when you came to, you should have called and cancelled. I'm sure there's plenty of other people he could give the ticket to."

"But it's my favorite band," I whine, rolling onto my stomach and holding the phone out in front of me as I press my face into the light pink comforter, sheets muffling my complaints.

"Even if it's a performance from Jesus himself, I wouldn't care. Belle, at the end of the day, you're still going with a guy who moaned another girl's name while kissing you!"

Barely picking my face up so all she can see are my dark eyes, I mutter in defense, "He was drunk."

"I don't care if he was possessed!" Taylor yells, pulling her phone close to her face for emphasis. "He still did it, and I think you're giving him the wrong idea by going."

She must notice the sadness take hold of my face, because she's quick to add, "Or maybe there's another explanation. I swear you and him are the worst when it comes to communicating. Just talk to him about."

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