Harry Styles One Shots

A Cheat (ii)

Summary: Y/N and Harry are drifting apart, Y/N reminisces

Warnings: angst

Word count: 1.8k

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Y/N gasped with tears beginning to gloss over her eyes. The text message induced such a great shock in her tired, worn-out body that she immediately collapsed on the hardwood floor below her; heels clattering loudly on the ground, resembling her heart furiously cracking. Her vision fogged causing the picture to become a blurry vignette of Harry in the sound booth, with a pair of headphones adorning his ears and a pair of lips smashed against his own. The woman's hair cascaded down her slim waist, as to which Harry's hands enclosed it. His hair was lengthy and was the occupation for her hands to tug lightly. Harry's dimple showcased itself slightly, indicating he was, indeed, enjoying this kiss. The control board prohibited the camera lens to pry further from the couples' obviously intimate time alone. It was too real to be photoshopped, she knows because she's not stupid. But there's a certain part of her openly hoping that someone out there was just really really good at it to be able to adjust the reflections as perfectly as they did—if they did, for she could not imagine Harry purposely ruining their relationship just like that.

Of course, it couldn't be Y/N's because she hasn't been there with him for a long time, so any hopes of it being an old picture of her and Harry are down the drain. He mumbled something along the lines of 'professionalism' and how there's a potential that she could somehow, do something wrong while he was out of the room. She recalls that statement from when she had offered to stay late nights with him since they haven't spent a lot of time together recently. He rejected that idea and let her down easy.

Sugarcoating the whole thing, Y/N thinks now.

Regardless of his reasonings, maybe he didn't want her there. Maybe her suggestion of herself being an 'inspiration' to him meant a nuisance and a burden to his work. After all, he wanted his second album to be something that he was proud of. Following the success of his debut, he didn't want to let anybody down; especially not himself.

As she looked at the picture once again, her throat closed and dried up, constricting the passageway to keep her breathing. It was as if Harry was her lifeline and he just cut her off. Her dress was too scratchy to be comfortable, she could feel her mascara clumping on her eyelashes and forming black streaks down her cheeks, ruining the contour and highlight she had so pretentiously applied in hopes of impressing her boyfriend—can she still call him that?— and possibly igniting the fire they once had. The previous pain she felt from her heels was nothing compared to the betrayal Harry introduced to her. Her heart ached so much that every time she breathed deeply, it was scorching her to the core.

Her phone 'dinged' once again, buzzing in her clutched hand. Another message from the unknown number made Y/N furrow her brows and part red her lips in wonder.

"Heard they've been at it for a while. She works at the studio."

That sentence alone sent chills down her spine. Y/N they've been distant for the past, maybe, 4 or so months. Maybe he started being unfaithful, then? Typical questions zoomed through her mind: how long has he been doing this? Who is she? Does he still love me? If it did start right when she felt his indifference towards her, it meant that he'd lied to her during their anniversary. The day of exemption from the rocky months they were having where he had forgotten their declaration to the start of a blossoming relationship—he would have lied then.

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Y/N reminisces the day. She woke up in a cold bed; it wasn't a surprise by that point, but she hoped that this day would've made him act differently. Her feet pattered on the floor to the bathroom where the light was turned off. She walked down the stairs with a bounce to her step. Maybe he was preparing breakfast for us! Y/N thought. Already smelling the fruity scent of the automatic air freshener, it wasn't masked by any breakfast goodies that Harry could've been making. And as she turned down the corner, she finds the kitchen barren of any life forms. The dishes were still piled in the sink, but there was no Harry. The day was spent with Y/N reaching out for Harry through text, only to be met with delayed messages of "will be home late" Y/N tries to play it off as him surprising her for later. She smiles to herself at the thought of her sappy, romantic boyfriend.