Stalker Styles (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 45

H A R R Y







I rub my forehead, pressing harder and harder, trying to get the oncoming headache to go away. I lock my phone, gently setting it down next to me. I take deep breaths, as a distraction. anything to keep me from punching the wall next to me. Louis looks up from his position in front of me, after having his head cradled in his hands.



"I don't know why they do this. . ." He trails off, and I snap.



"I bloody know why they do this!" I scream, jumping to my feet. I clench my fists and grab my phone, my feet carrying me down the hall, away from everyone. I keep taking deep breaths, but they become ragged, making me sound like a werewolf.



I reach a room far enough away from everyone, and lock myself in there. I press my back against the door and slowly slide to the ground. Tears have started to brim my eyes, and I know there is no way I could stop them. I furiously rub at my eyes, as the tears start pouring down my face. I use my sleeve to wipe them off, whimpering sounds coming from my mouth.



I groan as more tears spill down my cheeks. I am totally falling apart. once I am able to get my breathing normal again, I gain the courage to call Presley. I press the phone to my ear as it rings. . .Once. . . Twice. . .I quickly hang up the phone. I've never been this terrified to call her. I climb to my feet and pace back and forth in front of the door.



"Breathe Harry." I say out loud to myself. "You don't have to do this, there are other options." But there isn't. I have to do this, she can't go through this anymore. No matter how much she loves me, I love her too much to make her go through all of this. She doesn't deserve it.



I sigh and try to punch the wall. I fail and only end up lightly hitting it. more tears stream down my face as I rest my head against the cool brick wall. I sniffle and rub my eyes before I grab my phone out again. Instead of trying to Presley again, I go straight to the page I had previously been on.





"Presley Davis definitely won't be able to get herself out of this one. It seems as though the same boy she had been accused of cheating on her boyfriend, Harry Styles, with, was seen going to her apartment building today. inside sources say when he got to the door, he was roughly pulled into the apartment.



Presley previously told us that she is 'staying pure' until marriage, but could she have ruined that plan? With Harry on tour, it seems nothing is stopping her. Not to mention she has been seen with multiple boys, and she also had a 'fling' with co-host Alexander Ludwig.



So tell us, is she guilty or innocent? We're saying guilty until she isn't proven pregnant. (Not saying she is, but. . .) take out your phones and tweet us, slut or not?"




Tears rolled down my cheeks as I read the last statement. Slut or not? Really? I frustratedly ran a hand through my hair before giving in and dialling her number.

"Hello?" Her voice shakily says into my ear. I sigh and slide down to the floor again. I sit in the middle of the room with my knees pulled up to my chest, my chin resting on my knees.

"Hey." My voice croaks. I sound terrible, like I've been smoking twelve packs a day. "A-are you okay?" I stutter.

"Are you?" She asks and I can picture her running her hands through her long hair. She's probably curled up in her bed, covers pulled up to her chin. She's probably wearing those hideous fuzzy socks, though she claims they make her feet warm. She's probably rubbing her eyes, rubbing her make-up off in the process. She's probably wondering why I'm calling. And most of all, she's probably wondering why they're saying that about her, why she has to go through this.

I let out a croaky laugh. "No," I say, and next thing I know I'm crying again. This is the most I've ever cried in my whole life. "I'm so sorry," I wail into the phone. "I'm so sorry baby. So sorry." I continue wailing. Her silence warns me that she knows what's coming next.