Rain | Harry Styles

4.2

'it used to be magic, now there's bullshit and sadness.'

(emotions - lovelytheband) 

- 

H.

I sat back against the window sill as I let another bottle smash against the surface of the wall, watching as the pieces smashed and separated, littering the floor with shards of glass and the brown liquid sprayed the walls and covered the carpet. 

"Fuck," I muttered, bringing my head in my hands as I tore my eyes from the debris at my feet, a final bottle beside me - the only one of the three remaining, since I'd smashed the other two.

I wanted to drink it, all of it. I wanted to drink every last drop from the bottle, and toss it aside with the others. I wanted to drink it all, and forget all of it - numb myself like I used to and move along, to not feel. The house was empty, and it was only me here - but I knew it wasn't long before Karen and Geoff came home to find the bombsite I'd made of my room. 

I stepped forward, discarding the third full bottle of whiskey and heading towards the shattered glass, kicking at a piece with my boot. I crouched down, inspecting the stain beyond cleaning that lay at my feet, and I cursed again, kicking more shards aside. I stood up, heading for the bathroom and grabbing a bunch of toilet paper, pressing it down onto the stain in hopes to clear it, scrubbing it frantically - but to no avail. 

I stamped on the screwed up tissues, running a hand through my hair and cursing just about every word under the sun, before striding towards my bed and flopping back onto the mattress. 

God, I was a fucking mess. She was with him, I'd known that, and I'd come here with the expectation of seeing so - yet still, to hear her say it out loud brought a cloud to my mind, a knot to my gut, and a sickness to my stomach. I was so weak, it was fucking pathetic. To see her again, to watch her avoid eye contact with me at all costs, and watch her look me in the eye and tell me she'd moved on. 

I wouldn't have believed her - not for a second. I knew when my girl was lying to me, and I knew when the things she said just didn't make logical sense. But her reasoning did make sense - she'd finally come to terms with the fact she was too good for me.

I'd know that all along - deep down I'd always known there'd come a day when she knew her worth, and realised what she deserved, and that just didn't happen to be me. I was nothing, and she deserved everything. She'd always denied it when I'd told her, always insisted that she didn't care who I was or what I had, because I was all she wanted - but I think deep down she knew. She knew that I could never give her what she wanted and what she deserved - staying together only prolonged the inevitable.

When I'd left her for that very reason, I knew she'd eventually come to see why. And for that I only had myself to blame - I've always known it, but I still grasped onto the hope that our love would be able to overcome all of it. But call me a fucking hypocrite, right? Because I'd left her, and this was only the result of that. 

I felt sick. I didn't know who this Luke Hemmings guy was, but he made me sick. The fact he could make her happy, and I couldn't - that he could love her in a way she felt I couldn't, though I knew nobody could ever love her the way I do - my love for her was too strong. I didn't know who he was but I hated him - I hated him for being everything that I couldn't. 

I blew out a breath, standing up from the bed and hurrying towards the bathroom. I leant over the toilet bowl, my stomach emptying itself as I gripped the surface - I hadn't eaten; there was nothing to throw up - all I could feel was the painful heaving of my stomach as it forced up whatever could be found, and I felt as if my guts were being viciously yanked at. I groaned internally, standing up from the toilet and kicking the bathroom door shut. I tugged my shirt off, and unfastened my belt, kicking my boots aside and reaching into the shower to turn it on. I pulled my jeans down my legs, before following with my underwear. As the shower heated, I finally stepped into it, the heat of the water coating my skin in such ecstasy. I tilted my head back, parting my lips and letting the water rush over my skin and wash away the lifeless colour it had possessed for days now; wash away each and every dark thought and memory. My eyes fluttered shut and my shoulders fell from their tense position, my muscles loosening and relaxing as I remained under the water bringing my hands to my scalp to coat my hair.