World Tour
Heart Attack
***Harry Styles***
Tuesday, December 27th, 2011 – North London, England
Louis hadn’t touched me once since I kissed him. I hated that. I loved the reassurance that I was important to him like I felt when he put his arm around me or tousled my hair. I knew I had ruined it – I had made him think that if he ever touched me again, I would try and kiss him. What did you do, Harry? I asked myself, tormented. Even though he had seemed okay the night before, and for a few minutes I really thought everything would be okay, no matter what Louis decided, I somehow knew deep down inside it wasn’t okay, that I had ruined everything, from my friendship with Louis to the dynamic of the band. I hated myself for it. I wanted to take the pain away.
It had been such a roller coaster of emotions since I kissed Louis. Fear, at first, not to mention embarrassment. Anxiety – what if he hated me? Then there was longing, when I was at my parent’s, all I wanted was to see Louis, if not to talk it out at least so I knew we were okay. There was regret. Then there was hope when we spoke last night, hope that it could actually happen, after all. But by the time I went to bed last night, that hope had dissipated once again, and all I could think was how I was becoming the Yoko One of One Direction – breaking up the band. I had cried myself to sleep – silently, so that Louis wouldn’t hear. I acted normal at the radio interview that day, so as not to make the others suspicious. They could usually tell when something was wrong with me, and I was usually open about it. This was not something I could talk to them openly about. I didn’t know how they’d react, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to put Louis through that. The longer I sat there, alone with my thoughts, the more I hated myself. I hated myself for feeling the way I felt about Louis, and I hated myself even more for doing something about it instead of just ignoring it until it went away. Now, not only was it my well being at stake, it was his, too, and he was the last person I wanted to see in any pain.
As soon as Louis went to take a shower, I couldn’t take it anymore. I flopped down on my bed and cried into my pillow like a little girl. I wanted to take it all back. I didn’t want to put myself or Louis through this. What had I been thinking! I had read into signs that weren’t there, or I never would’ve kissed him. I must have been laying there for awhile, because I heard Louis’s voice at my door.
“Harry?” he asked, and I could hear worry in his tone, a rare emotion for Louis. I knew he had heard me crying, and I hated myself even more.
Tuesday, December 27th, 2011 – North London, England
Louis hadn’t touched me once since I kissed him. I hated that. I loved the reassurance that I was important to him like I felt when he put his arm around me or tousled my hair. I knew I had ruined it – I had made him think that if he ever touched me again, I would try and kiss him. What did you do, Harry? I asked myself, tormented. Even though he had seemed okay the night before, and for a few minutes I really thought everything would be okay, no matter what Louis decided, I somehow knew deep down inside it wasn’t okay, that I had ruined everything, from my friendship with Louis to the dynamic of the band. I hated myself for it. I wanted to take the pain away.
It had been such a roller coaster of emotions since I kissed Louis. Fear, at first, not to mention embarrassment. Anxiety – what if he hated me? Then there was longing, when I was at my parent’s, all I wanted was to see Louis, if not to talk it out at least so I knew we were okay. There was regret. Then there was hope when we spoke last night, hope that it could actually happen, after all. But by the time I went to bed last night, that hope had dissipated once again, and all I could think was how I was becoming the Yoko One of One Direction – breaking up the band. I had cried myself to sleep – silently, so that Louis wouldn’t hear. I acted normal at the radio interview that day, so as not to make the others suspicious. They could usually tell when something was wrong with me, and I was usually open about it. This was not something I could talk to them openly about. I didn’t know how they’d react, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to put Louis through that. The longer I sat there, alone with my thoughts, the more I hated myself. I hated myself for feeling the way I felt about Louis, and I hated myself even more for doing something about it instead of just ignoring it until it went away. Now, not only was it my well being at stake, it was his, too, and he was the last person I wanted to see in any pain.
As soon as Louis went to take a shower, I couldn’t take it anymore. I flopped down on my bed and cried into my pillow like a little girl. I wanted to take it all back. I didn’t want to put myself or Louis through this. What had I been thinking! I had read into signs that weren’t there, or I never would’ve kissed him. I must have been laying there for awhile, because I heard Louis’s voice at my door.
“Harry?” he asked, and I could hear worry in his tone, a rare emotion for Louis. I knew he had heard me crying, and I hated myself even more.
Notes
Directioners,Setting up for a major Harry breakdown...
Poor Harry! Next chapter gets emotional! *MUAH*
@Sinthiaa
No, it's not hers, it's mine, and I can't get in touch with her or the site admins to get it taken down, grrr haha. Thank you for saying something though :-) *MUAH*
5/6/14