kalopsia [harry styles]

30

Harry Styles

I hadn't seen her in a week.

Strangely enough, it had been the worst fucking week I'd had all year, and I've had pretty fucked up weeks before.

It felt weird. Empty.

I'd never felt this way before, and it wasn't a good feeling. I'd been snappy all week– more than usual.

I'd grown used to her; the slight aura that seemed to follow every time she entered a room, the smell of her shampoo–what in the fucking hell was this?

Get your fucking grip together, Styles.

I turned to look at her for a small moment, watching as she huffed out the mid-afternoon cold air,  soft lips parting and letting out a small breath as she shifted her hair out of her eyes.

It amazed me, how a girl like her get along with a guy like me. We looked like total opposites, from the way we lived to the way we thought.

Still, we got along good enough.

A pang of guilt stabs at me, making me wince. It was going to destroy her when she found out.

If she found out.

I would make it my job for her not to find out. I couldn't lose our friendship.

I couldn't lose her.

"What are you looking it, dummy" Her voice jolts me out of my thoughts.

I look at her, frowning.

"Why do you wanna know?" I ask, slightly defensive.

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head sarcastically, holding up her hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry Mr.Styles. I can't ask a simple question now?" She attempts to frown, but it's useless, she can't hide the hint of playfulness in her eyes.

After months of getting to know her, it seemed like she was changing–for the better.

I didn't really know the full story of Faith and her, and I wouldn't pry, that was for Fallon to tell when she was ready. But I knew she was a fucking bitch. Every time Fallon mentioned her it seemed to be something negative, and it made my blood boil.

I didn't like Faith. I didn't like her at all.

She seemed like a ghost in Fallon's life. Always haunting her wherever she went, not letting her do anything. From the looks of it, Faith wanted Fallon to live for her, even in death.

I looked up at the sky, scowling.

Fucking sister could go fuck whatever imaginary god was up there.

"Hey" Fallon's soft voice snaps me out of my thoughts– for the second time in the last minute. "Are you alright?"

I turn to her, making eye contact. Around us, people walk to and from places, all of them with a fixed mindset as to where they need to go.

Her forehead is lined with worry, and her pink lips are pursed into a line.

"Yeah" I answer, nodding to assure her. "I'm fine. Just–" I raise an eyebrow "thinking"

She laughs at my answer, and I can't help but smile. She always seemed to be able to do that– put me in a good mood and she didn't even have to try.

We continue to walk for a few minutes, both of us deep in thought. Nothing ever seemed to be awkward between us.

She gasps, grabbing my shoulder sharply to make me stop moving.