¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
WARNING: contains elements of anxiety crisis.
Things are different now. Like it's all weird between us. See, it's breakfast at the Styles' home, but it doesn't seem like anyone is happy about it. Miss Anne Twist is looking at me all the time because I'm barely eating the plate of bacon and eggs she served me minutes ago, and if looks could kill, Harry would definitely be dead by Gemma's constant gaze at him.
I wish I haven't ran away from him last night.
I decide to eat my whole breakfast before Anne brings the topic to our talk, and right after finishing it, I get up from the table, taking my plate to the kitchen sink with intentions of cleaning it for her. Gemma stops me instead, slapping my hands so she can wash it for me. With nothing else to do, I pass across the kitchen so I can avoid Harry at all costs.
I wish I haven't ran away from him last night.
Suddenly I feel so nervous that I manage to walk straight to the guests' bathroom, locking the door and facing my own reflection in the mirror as if I'm the most selfish man in the world right now. My hands stick to the marble in the sink, trying to keep my body standing up until I have no strength anymore.
I wish I haven't ran away from him last night.
I'm barely breathing now. And I know I'm not having an anxiety attack because of my feelings for Harry Styles. No. I'm better than this, I'm better than the thousands of online fan-fictions that people wrote about our relationships back in the One Direction days. All I know is I'm having an anxiety crisis because of my inability to face my own struggles, to face my feelings whenever they confront me like this, to scream my truth when I'm asked to.
I wish I haven't ran away from him last night.
"Niall?" His damn voice screams from the outside of the bathroom. "You okay?"
Answer, Niall. Fuck. Say something.
"Niall, I'm worried about you", he keeps trying to communicate, which I praise in the back of my mind, but nothing escapes from my mouth. I'm still looking at myself in the mirror. "Look, if it's all about last night, then don't worry. I'm not mad. If it's about last night, knock once on the door. If it's not, knock twice."
It's probably a weird thing to do? Probably. But at the state I'm in right now, there's not much I can do.
I knock twice with my left feet.
"Huh, okay. Do you wanna talk about it? Once if you do, twice if you don't."
I'm so insecure that I don't even know how to answer this question. This is why I take a long time until I use my feet to knock once.
"Okay. I'm listening. I don't care if you'll open the door or not, I just want to make you feel better, if I can."
"You can", the words slip out of my lips before I can think about it.
"Good. Can you tell me now?"
"I hate myself, Haz", as soon as I say it, my eyes are already teared. "I couldn't face my feelings for you because I was so dumb to think I'd never be loved back. No one ever does. No one ever dared to love me back, Harry, and I hate myself for it, for not being able to let someone in. Fuck it, I'm sick of it."
I open the door, already crying everything out loud in front of Harry. Before I let myself rest in his embrace, I see his eyes are teared too.
"You're crying, H."
"I hate to see you like this."
"Don't."
"I like you, remember?"
"I shouldn't have ran away last night", I say, still feeling the tears streaming down my face while my arms are wrapped around Harry's neck. "I like you, too. I just didn't know how to tell you."
"It's okay now", his voice softens a bit, his fingers playing with my hair in hopes to calm me down. "It's okay. You're perfect for me, Niall, never forget it, never think otherwise. If those shitty people didn't love you the way you loved them, then fuck them. I'm here, and I'll never leave you."
"I broke up with him", I say as soon as Niall opens his bedroom door.
"What?" He asks, a lazy smirk on his face for seeing me so early in the morning.
"I couldn't handle him anymore." The grin in my lips may make me look like a psycho who just found a new victim, but I don't care. I'm free. "He won't hurt me again."
"Is that serious? Is it over?"
"It is, Nialler. You're the first one for whom I'm telling this."
He suddenly wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me into his bedroom to hold his body against mine. The smell of lavanda from the duvet is still stuck on him, which is something I love about my favorite blondie.
"If you're happy then I'm happy for you", he says, the soft voice filling the void of my thoughts right now. "But I hope he learns the lesson this time."
