You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt
Masterlist linked in bio
If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.
Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.
Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”
It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.
And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.
It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.
She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.
Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.
Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.
She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.
She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.
But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.
“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.
Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.
She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.
“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”
Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.
“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”
Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.
“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”
“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”
“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”
The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.
When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.
When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.
“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.
When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.
She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.
It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.
The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.
That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.
It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.
Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.
And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.
She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.
The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.
This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.
Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.
My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.
She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.
He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.
Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.
After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.
“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”
Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.
She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.
“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”
Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.
“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.
Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.
“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”
Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.
“Yeah, until we find our way back.”
She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.
“You’ll always be my lover.”
But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.
How could he do this to me?
“Babe, are these eggs alr—“
Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.
At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.
He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.
Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.
The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?
He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.
But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.
“Y/n, is everything alr—”
Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.
“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”
If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.
“No!” Gabby spits.
Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.
Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.
“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“
“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.
Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.
Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time.
“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”
If she closes her eyes hard enough, and just at the right moments, Y/n can feel Harry in Dan.
It’s quite peculiar, how she finds Harry in almost anything. It’s something she finds so riveting yet so dangerous at the same time. He’s everywhere, he’s in every breath she takes and in every move she makes, and it’s something that brings her an overwhelming sense of comfort yet an overbearing sense of instability.
Dan—an individual full of insecurities and excitement—who varies oh, so differently from Harry, can feel like him if she really tries hard enough. His arms don’t hold her quite the same, and his lips aren’t as soft and flavorful, but if she squeezes her eyes shut, and she loses herself in the memories of Harry, it’s like he’s almost back again—only in the most minuscule of ways.
Which is why, now, in this moment in time, Y/n can barely keep her eyes open.
It’s the first time Y/n brought Dan to the house, letting him stop by to watch a film after his shift. It’s a little something he’s wanted to do for a while, and after many coffee dates and many pleads from Dan, she finally took the step of being completely alone with him.
Gabby decided to go to a friends house and insisted they take their time together. It started off wonderfully; a bottle of red wine, a box of chocolates, and a bag of popcorn while they watched Jaws.
It was all wonderful, until Dan decided to make the move.
Dan is on top of her, lips connecting to hers in a lustful motion. It isn’t that Y/n doesn’t want to be in this position, but more of her being hesitant to do so. She hasn’t kissed anybody since Harry, and although Dan is one of the nicest people she’s ever met, she can’t find it within herself to keep moving any more forward.
And everything about it feels wrong.
Between all the touching, all the kissing, all the feelings within her, she can’t stop thinking about Harry. She can’t stop thinking about how much she misses him and how much she wants him back. She’s still in love with him, so much so that doing this with someone else makes her feel dirty—makes her feel like she’s betraying him.
And it’s all too much, because no matter how hard she closes her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to feel him, he’s not there, and she can’t help but seem to think that he never will be—not anymore.
“No, no, stop.” She whimpers, shaking her head in an attempt to reject Dan’s restless lips.
He doesn’t stop, however, too engaged in the moment to really understand the words stuttering from her mouth. He continues kissing her, instead, moving down to her collarbones.
At this point, Y/n starts to hyperventilate. Between the sobs daring to escape her chest and the lack of air from her previous activities, everything is straining against her. She doesn’t fully understand how she was able to get this far without it being with Harry.
Her arms push Dan off of her until she’s alone on the couch as he’s panting on the floor. She can’t breathe. Her chest is tightening and her cries are so harsh that her lungs are collapsing inside of her.
She reaches her hands up to the roots of her hair, pulling back on them as she tries to gather all the oxygen she can. At this point, her head feels light and her sight is completely blurred by the tears flowing out of them—ones that she doesn’t even try to stop.
“I’m s—so sor—ry.” She hiccups, her head falling to her hands.
Dan gulps as he tentatively stands from his spot on the floor, his hands up in front of him as if in a panic—trying desperately to figure out how to fix the mess being made in front of him.
He looks around the room, as if in search for something to guide him through this situation, but there’s nothing. All the room occupies is a broken woman, sobbing breathlessly on a couch in front of him, muttering incoherent phrases under her breath.
“Okay,” he huffs out, nodding his head to himself, “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?”
He occupies the empty spot next to her, hesitantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. In all honesty, Dan is complete shit at helping people during emotional breakdowns, and considering this one had happened so suddenly, he had absolutely no warning that he would be put in this position.
Y/n feels bad, she does, considering Dan doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s given him and surely doesn’t deserve what was once an innocent date to end up a complete disaster. But she can’t help it, and she can’t stop now, no matter how hard she tries.
“It’s Harry, isn’t it?”
His voice is nothing but a whisper, and the words that spoke out from his lips nearly brings every movement in Y/n’s body to a halt. She never told him that it was Harry who broke her heart, and to be honest, she doesn’t even find the strength within her to begin to question how he even knows of Harry—especially his relationship with her.
Of course, their relationship has been publicized for years, but Dan is a very closed-off type of person. He’s not much into music, either—another part of him that differs so drastically from Harry—and spends a majority of his time working or spending time outside rather than succumbing himself in social media.
He looks down at the rose ring wrapped around his pointer finger, twirling it around with the hand that was once wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders.
He knew the moment he saw Harry’s reaction that this ring very much belonged to him. He wasn’t quite sure why she sacrificed it so mindlessly—why it seemed to have no story behind it. But between everything Gabby’s told him and everything he’s gathered from her previous relationship, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of every reminder she had of him.
He doesn’t feel worthy enough for it, though. If Y/n and Harry don’t find their way back to each other, he feels she should at least give it to somebody that she loves, not somebody she needs to help her get over her heartbreak.
He slides it off his finger, placing it gently on the palm of his hand before closing his fingers into a fist.
“We can’t keep doing this, Y/n. Not if you can’t talk to me.” He mutters softly, “Not if you’re still in love with him, we’ll be getting nowhere.”
This makes her cry harder. She still doesn’t have the audacity to look up at him, no, how could she? After everything she’s done?
This is why she always ends up alone. No matter how in love she is, no matter how much effort she puts into a relationship, they always end up leaving her. It’s happened long before Harry, and she was so convinced he’d stay when he came around. She was so dead set on him being her forever, but the same thing happened again. He left, just like everyone else.
And now, Dan is leaving her, and although she can’t exactly blame him for doing so, it’s another wound to her heart—it’s another pain in her chest that only seems to increase with pain.
He sighs sadly at the sight in front of him, upset with himself that he’s probably a partial reason for her soul-shaking sobs and lack of air, but he has no other choice. If he stays with her, he’d be forcing her to love someone she doesn’t. He has to let her go if it means to possibly make amends with her happiness again.
He takes one of her shaking hands away from her face and bringing it towards his lap, spreading her fingers away from her palm so that he can set the ring softly against it.
She sobs at the sight, bringing her opposite hand to her mouth as she tries to quiet herself down.
“This was Harry’s, it always was. This belongs to you, Y/n, not me.”
She nods, trying her best to smile at him as a form of appreciation, but it fails miserably. He understands, though, that she cares, and doesn’t ask her any questions.
“I’ll let Gabby know to come home now, okay?”
He kisses the top of her head, the way he always does, before removing himself from the couch and toward the front door.
“Take care of yourself, Y/n. I mean it.”
And then, he’s gone, leaving Y/n alone in an empty house and her haunting thoughts. She feels the world is closing in on her, only giving her a restricted amount of air and a limited amount of light to see what’s in front of her.
She’s alone—she’s left by herself in a dark room that’s only being illuminated by the television light, where nobody can hear her, where nobody can touch her, where nobody can see her; in a place where she just can’t trust herself.
She’s left alone, as she’s always left, and she just can’t take it anymore.
Her emotions become so strong that her body collapses onto the floor, her head throbbing and throat burning from all the tears and cries. She can’t breathe, her lungs failing to take in oxygen and her chest is pounding.
It’s so bad that if Gabby doesn’t come home soon, she actually believes she’s going to die. She feels the tug on her heart and feels how hard it is for it to do its job properly—she practically feels it overworking itself.
Gabby finds her on the floor, making her immediately drop her purse and run to her collapsed body. Y/n is a withering mess underneath her, completely drenched in sweat as violent sobs erupt from her body.
She’s quick to sit her up properly onto the floor before lifting her back onto the couch, running a comforting hand down the side of her neck as she begins to shush her down to a calm state. However, her attempt falters when Y/n shakes her head to remove Gabby’s touch from her neck.
“I can’t—I can’t—“
She tries to find words to explain what’s happening to her right now. Between the pain in her body and the feeling in her head, her brain is scrambling with so many fearful thoughts that the only thing she can truly comprehend is being saved from this horrifying feeling.
Gabby is taken aback when she says it, completely astonished by just how serious this all is. She realizes this isn’t a situation that she can fix on her own, and it makes her feel like such a bad friend that she can’t give her what she needs.
Tears fall from her eyes in panic, well aware that her friend is undergoing something far worse than a mental breakdown, but also knows that the hospital won’t be able to help her.
Only Harry can.
“Let me call for help, okay?“ She asks softly. “I’m gonna send help.”
When Harry sees Gabby’s contact light up his phone, something inside of him instantly fills with worry. He knows, without a doubt, that Gabby hates him more than anybody ever since what happened. And knowing her so well, she would never reach out to him, especially when her negative feelings toward him were so strong, unless it’s serious.
“You have to do something, Harry.” She cries through the phone, peaking over her shoulder to look over Y/n from her location in the kitchen.
She’s still a mess, holding her hand over her heart as if it were going to mend the pain. Her head is thrown over the back of the couch, her other hand running over her face continuously. Her sobs haven’t settled, only seeming to increase with panic over the unfamiliar reaction occurring over her body.
“She thinks you don’t want her and—Harry she thinks she’s dying. Her heart is so broken. She keeps saying her heart is going to fail her and I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. She—she was trying so hard. Harry, please, you have to—you have to—“
Harry leans on his elbows over the kitchen counter, huffing out a shaky breath when he hears both Gabby and Y/n’s cries through the phone. He rubs his hand over his face, doing anything to prevent the tears nearly pooling out from his eyes.
He’d be lying if he said that guilt isn’t eating him alive in this moment. And it’s not that he hasn’t felt any remorse or any guilt since he’d broken Y/n’s heart, but he’s now fully aware that he has to look at the damage he’s done. He’ll have to witness all the pain, all the heartbreak he’s put her through, and nothing makes him feel worse.
“I’ll do anything.” He whimpers. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I promise, I won’t keep doing this to her, you have to believe me. Just—“ he lets out a broken breath, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, “just tell me what to do.”
Gabby wipes the tears from her cheeks, yet again peering over to watch over Y/n on the couch. To her dismay, there is absolutely no improvement.
“Come here, pick her up, and bring her home. Just talk to her, please. Nothing makes her feel worse than believing you don’t want her anymore. Hell, even if you don’t—I don’t know with you anymore—just give her something. You’re the only one that can fix this.”
He sighs, nodding his head before making his way out of his house without much of a response to her. He’s only concerned for Y/n, and is so focused on getting to her so that he can prove to her that he’s changed—that he’s not the same Harry he was and is going to be there for her for as long as his life lasts, even if she doesn’t allow it.
But it’s upon arrival he realizes how much more serious this is than he thought. She’s completely breaking down, every inch of her shaking and fear written on her face. She’s a complete and utter mess, a completely wrecked version of such a beautiful, unbroken woman who had so much love in her heart and surrounded by so much love in the air.
And even though Harry knows she believes she’s going to die, apart of him believes she’s already dead. The life inside of her has burned out and is now just a product of what once was. The Y/n he always known is long gone—so far gone he almost doesn’t believe it’s her.
He looks at her with the most distraught and sympathetic look Gabby has ever seen. She has never seen so much guilt in somebody before that—no matter how much she hates him—she can’t help but feel sorry for him, too.
“Baby, hey. Hey now, it’s alright.” He whispers, kneeling in front of Y/n’s shaking figure and tentatively reaching for her hair so that he can attempt to calm her down. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”
A pitiful sound leaves her lips when she looks up at him; something between a whine, a sob, and a groan. It’s messy from her throat being raw from all the screaming and cries, and it leaves an indescribable pain that only makes her cries stronger.
She can’t even think properly, everything in her body overworking itself. It’s something she’s never experienced before, and all the fears of it being permanent rush through her veins—leaving her with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.
“She’s having a panic attack.” Harry mumbles to Gabby, making sure to rub gently over the back of Y/n’s neck. Although panic attacks weren’t common for her, whenever she was overwhelmed and stressed, this gesture always seemed calmed her down.
“I don’t know what to do. I can’t drive with her like this I—Gabby, how do I focus with her like this?” He cries, the situation in front of him making his body turn to shambles, “Especially when it’s my fault? How do I—do I keep her here until she’s calm? I don’t—I don’t know—”
Gabby shakes her head, reaching her hand over to graze his tense shoulder. She squeezes the muscle softly, almost as a sort of reassurance.
“She needs home, Harry—” she whispers, “she needs you.”
He nods, choking back sobs as he brushes the hair out of Y/n’s face. The skin of her face is red and completely soaked, but this is the first time he’s seen her since the morning in the grocery store, and she’s never looked so beautiful.
“I’m going to take you home with me, Y/n. But I need you to breathe for me, can you do that?” He asks, holding her face delicately between his hands, “Breathe with me.”
Y/n sucks in a deep breath when Harry inhales deeply, attempting to rid all the anxiety and pain settling inside of her. Her inhale is broken between hiccups and cries, but as she keeps eye contact with him as she tries to calm down, a little part of her feels revived.
“It hurts.” She whimpers between sobs, referring to the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head that just can’t seem to heal.
She watches as Harry’s face scrunches with an agonizing cry, and she knows he’s aware of exactly what she’s talking about. She’s been brokenhearted for so long, she doesn’t even think he’s the least bit shocked when she tells him her heart is hurting.
“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he kisses her forehead gently. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Make you feel better?”
And as much as she wants to hate him, or yell at him for everything he’s done to her and make him understand just how much of her life he’s ruined, she genuinely feels like her body is going to collapse at any given moment. She needs him, even if it’s just for right now, she has to just focus on everything happening in the now. Harry’s come back to her and she’s about to go back home.
Because if she doesn’t think about the present moment—Harry holding her, Harry kissing her, Harry about to take the both of them back to their house—she’ll never find a way to fix herself. She’ll be stuck in this anxiety and pain for far too long—so long that it could actually kill her.
So she closes her eyes, only focusing on his touch and his breath fanning over her wet face. She forgets the t-shirt, she forgets all the times he’s ignored her after declaring them to take a break, and she forgets about Jessica. At least for right now, she can focus on all that tomorrow.
She nods, and it’s then Harry notices how much more calm she is. Although she’s still crying and still incapable of speaking much from the aching in her throat, she’s breathing properly again and her once undying sobs have turned into soft whimpers.
He leans in so that he can properly wrap his arms around her, hooking one hand on her back and the other under her knees. There’s no way in hell she’s capable of walking—not like this, and in all honesty, he would much rather hold her now than leave her side for another second.
It’s when Y/n is being held so close to him again that the aching in her chest seems to almost vanish completely. And although there is still a weight on top of her lungs, and still a slight uncomfortableness in her heart, she’s finally able to breathe again.
“I’m gonna make this all better, okay? I promise you, gonna fix you.” He mumbles with his lips against her hairline, making sure to keep rubbing the back of her neck softly.
It’s a promise he intends on keeping—a promise he never plans on breaking again. He could never live with himself if he were to keep putting her through all of this pain. She’s the most undeserving person—he knows that—and he knows she’s too pure to go through all that she’s been through the past couple of months.
The car ride is completely silent, only Y/n’s cries and small sniffles filling the empty space. Although she still isn’t completely calm, she’s improved so much since he first came to pick her up and it is able to keep his mind at ease. At least while he drives.
And he doesn’t miss her hand sneaking over the console to intertwine her fingers with his. He doesn’t expect it but he also doesn’t mind it. If anything, it makes him feel better just as much as it does her.
When they pull up to the driveway of their once shared house, every bit of composure she’s withheld in her body is breaking down by the second. Her strength is wearing thin, and knowing she’ll be reuniting in the house where Y/n and Harry once had everything makes her more afraid than ever.
Harry notices her sudden shift in mood and doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle himself from his seat and walk around the car to where her exhausted figure is sobbing, slumped against the passenger seat. He sighs meekly before unbuckling her, as well, and lifting her against him the way he had before.
“Hey there, s’alright, I’m here. We’ll work this out, but you need to sleep first, yeah? Looking very pale and I know you well enough to see you’ve been lacking sleep.”
Although they both know Y/n isn’t going to respond, she wants to continue listening to him speak. It’s something she hasn’t heard in so long, and she wouldn’t even care if he was talking about the goddamn weather, she just wants to hear him again.
He keeps talking, too, because he notices the effects of his voice on her anxiety and how the muscles in her body relax under his words. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s okay again, even if it means having a one-sided conversation.
“You know how you are, too—grumpy and sensitive when you’re tired. Almost take my head off if you don’t get more than seven hours. Remember that one time at my mum’s Christmas dinner party? Barely slept the night before from wrapping so many gifts that you genuinely got upset with me for not knowing your favorite alcoholic beverage.” He chuckles softly. “Funny lil thing.“
Through the nonstop crying and the frown that hasn’t left Y/n’s lips in what feels like an eternity, the first smile stretches from her lips. It’s the smallest closed mouth smile he’s ever seen, but it’s there, and it’s the most genuine feeling of happiness she’s had in so long.
When Harry unlocks the door, he wastes no time making his way over to their couch. He knows very well that she wouldn’t want to sleep on their bed, considering she’s well aware of what he did with Jessica on that bed and he wants no reason to upset her any further.
He sets her down in front of the couch, petting the top of her head softly before gathering a blanket and a pillow for her to sleep on.
He sets it up like a bed, almost, before turning to leave so that she can have her privacy. He doesn’t think she’d want to sleep with him, so he decides to sleep in the guest bedroom since he knows she’d always pick the living room couch over that room.
But before he gets too far, Y/n weakly captures his fingers in hers, pulling him back towards her.
His head snaps down to her finger, noticing the rose ring being worn beautifully on her middle finger. He almost chokes when he sees it on her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in half confusion and half in awe.
“Please,” she whimpers, “stay.”
He snaps out of his trance at her words, slowly nodding his head as a small “of course” falls from his lips.
He lays comfortably on the couch, looking up at her when he finds a position where she can lay beside him.
“If you want you can take the—alright” he huffs.
His eyes narrow as he watches her lay on top of him—fully on top of him; her cheek nesting right where his shoulder meets his neck as her arms slither around his sides until her hands meet under his back. Her legs tangle perfectly in between his, and in any other circumstance, this probably wouldn’t have been an ideal sleeping position for the either of them. But Y/n is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she feels this is the only position she can sleep.
Harry doesn’t mind, and easily ignores the subtle uncomfortableness in his back as he wraps his arms securely around her frame.
Although Y/n is already fast asleep on top of it, he’s unsure how he can close his eyes for longer than a blink. This could be the last chance he has to be with her in this way. He’s unsure what tomorrow holds for the both of them and their relationship—it could end entirely or create an entirely new beginning.
With the possibilities almost endless against their favor, he doesn’t want to miss a second of what could be the last of her in his life. So, he embraces the feeling of her tight hold, the little puddle of drool on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and the tickle on his chin from her loose strands of hair, because this could be the last time he feels all of that.
But he also can’t help but feel that small bit of hope still latching onto him. That somewhere—deep down—he knows they belong to each other for the rest of their lives. And that, maybe, if the universe decides that their relationship should end tomorrow, he knows destiny will find a way for the both of them again.
So, he holds her a little tighter, breathes her in a little harsher, and soaks up all the extra warmth in her body, and prays that everything will be okay.
jessie’s girl // mary lambert | whatever you like // anya marina | can’t help falling in love // hayley reinhart | girls like girls // hayley kiyoko | midway // bad bad hats | night go slow // catey shaw | i do adore// mindy gledhill | jenny // studio killers | you picked me // a fine frenzy | nobody love // tori kelly | sing to me // mary lambert | she keeps me warm // kat robichaud | sum of our parts // mary lambert | i love you // beatrice eli | she // jen foster | skinny love // birdy | everyone is gay // a great big world | explosion // zolita | i didn’t just kiss her // jen foster | only a girl // gia | boyfriend // tegan and sara | ghost // halsey | girlfriend // icona pop | tee shirt // birdy
She felt the cool metal of the cabinet drawers hit her back, his long fingers weaving through her loose blonde strands. Was it possible to die from ecstasy? If so, what a way to go. His lips trailed a path from her neck to her collar bone as she squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her long legs around him, pulling him even tighter against her body.
Her hands moved to unbuckle the belt around his waist, but they were quickly knocked out of the moment by an obnoxiously loud banging on the door of the trailer.
“Is that your mom!?” Jughead ripped away from his sexy girlfriend and pulled his shirt back on, heading for the door.
She hadn’t witnessed the whole interaction, just the exchange of jackets and his surprised face when she called his name. Heading back into the trailer, Betty started to gather her things, leaving Jughead to speak to his new “friends”. She had to get out of here, what was she thinking? Hanging around Serpent territory after everything that had happened in the past month. Buttoning her jacket and searching for her bag she hardly registered Jughead walking towards her, she never even heard him speak her name. She jumped when he placed a hand on her shoulder
“Betty..” he started before she cut him off
“I should go. It’s late, It’s not too far from here.. I’ll walk, the fresh air will be good for me.” She moved towards the door but he quickly put his hand out to stop her
“You’re not going out there on your own, talk to me. Let’s talk about this.” He begged, his hands playing with the buttons on her jacket.
“There’s nothing to talk about, you made your decision.” She wrapped her arms around herself, it was what she did when she was bidding from someone, it made Jughead heart ache to see her hide herself from him.
“Nothing’s been decided, it’s just a stupid jacket. It doesn’t matter, you matter, we matter” he emphasized the we as she stepped back finally getting a look at him in the jacket.
Fuck. It was sexy as hell.
Obviously not the criminalistic activities tagged along with the logo but the way the jacket wrapped around his broad shoulders, his tossled black hair falling in his face, as he stared at her with wide, scared eyes. This was still Jughead, this was still the boy who had declared his love for her a mere minutes ago, the boy who had made her ache in places she didn’t know possible. He was still her Jughead, just an incredibly sexy version.
His eyes ducked to meet hers before she mumbled under her breath
The long pink peacoat hit the ground in seconds flat and before Jughead could even catch his balance, Betty was wrapped around him, her fingers tangled in his hair before running over the swirly snake emblazed on his back.
“I want you” She growled into his ear, her hands pulling the leather from his body as they stumbled into his bedroom.
Jughead pulled back, looking into his girlfriends glazed and lust filled eyes as she pulled off her tank top , revealing the lacy pink bra he had admired a few minutes ago. As he stared down at the perfect specimen laying on her back on his old mattress, he couldn’t think of his father or the Southside or his future, all he could think of was being with Betty completely, showing their love in the most absolute way.
“Are you sure?” He asked quickly, his own shirt now laying on the floor as she gazed up at him through her eyelashes
“Never been so sure” she whispered
That was all it took for him to dive into her, lifting her by the hips and tugging her into the headboard, his jeans hanging loose on his hips while she unzipped her skirt letting him tug it all the way down his fingers tracing her long smooth legs. She whined from above him, her hands reaching for him, he dragged his palms the entire length of her body and moaned when she pressed her chest into his hands
“Right there” she let out on a breathy sigh, he glanced up to find her eyes closed as he quickly disposed of her bra, taking the time to admire her breasts before letting his inexperienced fingers wander, by the way she sighed he assumed he was doing something right. Betty could feel how excited he was digging into her thigh
“Protection, do you have it?” She asked dazed as he pulled something from the side drawer
“Never thought this would happen, dad wanted me to be prepared just in case. Never imagined it’d be with you, only dreamed it” he mumbled against her neck, grinding into her, his soft cotton boxers causing friction with the lace of her panties.
She watched as he pulled the condom on, and slowly pulled the lace away, staring intently at something she was certain he had never seen before. Her eyes took in all of him, once he finished he looked up at her with unsure eyes
“I love you Jughead Jones, no matter what you are, who you become. I love you” she encouraged, wrapping her legs around his waist and bringing him inside of her. She winced at the pain, it hurt more than she expected, but hearing the deep guttural groan of her normally composed boyfriend, eased the ache a bit.
“I love you. God I love you” he moaned into her neck, pulling in and out of her excruciatingly slow. It al happened so fast she wasn’t even sure when she had hit her high, only coming down from it just in time to see Jugheads eyes roll back and his shoulders shake. He slumped beside her, dragging her into his side and peppering kisses to her hair
“Thankyou, I love you. That was.. did I hurt you? Was it awful..” he trailed off suddenly stiffening as he tried to pull away.
Betty shook her head quickly, pulling him back down and nuzzling against his bare chest
“It was perfect. Absolutely perfect” she whispered and smiled when she felt him sigh in relief.
“Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. I won’t join the serpents, I’ll… I’ll figure something else out” his hands played with her sweaty strands.
Betty sighed softly
“You do what you have to do. I meant what I said, I love you Jughead, no matter what you are, I’m going to love you.” She turned her cheek to look at him and went breathless at the intense look of love in his eyes.
“Besides” she continued, a teasing smirk on her face “we’ll finally be the real Romeo and Juliet you’re always talking about” she giggled.
Jughead rolled his eyes, pulling the covers tighter around the couple
“Except no one dies, alright?.”
Betty yawned, slowly closing her eyes
“Deal” she whispered before both the love sick teens fell into their dreams.
I freaking love this guessing game. Who knew Julie would turn out to be a riddler 😅
But this text has to be Jonas pov!
Firstly, the mom has to recognize the shirt at assume it was Eva’s.
Secondly, Eva would have to find that a bit embarrassing.
Thirdly the pov is very chill about it.
If it was Jente Chris, her mom would probably just
assume it was one of her girlfriend’s shirt and not specifically Eva’s. And Eva
would definitely not have reacted with that response… because why would it in
anyway be weird for her shirt to be there?
If we were still on P-Chris pov (which definitely wouldn’t
make sense, but I’ve seen people write about the option), he would NOT have
responded that chill. He would probably have squeezed a heart in somewhere, and
would probably find a way to call her his girlfriend. Like “oh my mom
thinks her daughter in law has a great taste in shirts.”
It would make sense if Eva finds it a little awkward
that Jonas mom found the shirt at his place, since it’s been so long since they
were a thing. And it would make sense that his mom potentially could have had
some kind of “are you back together” reaction… Aaand let’s not forget
how much Julie loves a good parallel!
This text between Jonas and Eva in season 1 seals the
deal for me. Jonas asking her, if he has forgotten his Wu Tang shirt at her
place… And yes he had!
One time Fry races into his and Bender’s apartment, sneakers skidding on the floor as he runs into the bathroom, and hastily opens the door only to almost pee himself (he’s already painfully held it in for hours now) as Bender shrieks and slams the door so harshly it falls off of it’s hinges at the top.
Neither of them make a sound for a moment, and after checking that he didn’t actually pee his pants, Fry tentatively opens the door. And there is Bender, trying to struggle out of one of his spare red jackets , wearing a similar face to the one he wears when the police are about to get him. Fry knows that face to usually mean he needs to run, but he doesn’t think he needs to run right now.
Bender looks up at Fry from between the buttons (which are askew) with wide optics and his arms tangled in the red sleeves over his head. They both pause, and Fry thinks that if Bender needed to breath he would have stopped then, either out of shock or want to die of embarrassment. Fry isn’t really sure what he should be feeling in this moment, but finds himself some place in-between really really happy to find Bender in his jacket for whatever reason and really really blushy. Also he really really has to pee.
He settles for praying that his face isn’t as red as his hair and slowly walking over to the still still - Ha, still still - robot, vaguely wondering if Bender could malfunction and if he’d have to carry him somewhere to get fixed. Fry honestly couldn’t carry Bender, he’d have to call Leela, she’s probably the only one that was strong enough, her biceps are huge. Fry wishes his biceps were that huge, then he could give Bender piggy back rides and hold him in his arms. Fry shakes his head, that was beside the point, whatever the point was.
Fry coughs awkwardly, looking at the dirty shower curtain behind them - Oh, there’s the pepperoni he thought fall in the drain when he was eating pizza in the shower, he’ll have to eat that later - as he gently pulls Bender’s arms down and idly rebuttons the shirt for him. His hands end up resting on Bender’s chest, fingers pitter-pattering in a nervous and stuttered rhythm. Fry hums, this feels nice.
Fry looks up to the mirror to find Bender looking intensely at him and jumps a little, pulls his hands back to rest by his sides. Fry doesn’t really know what’s he’s doing, but he never knows what he’s doing or supposed to be doing, so he doesn’t really care anyway.
Fry bounces on the balls of his feet and watches the lines of Bender’s mouth guard move listlessly, no sound coming out, and suddenly feels an urgent need to reassure Bender that they were cool.
Fry coughs again and steps back, one hand tangling in his bright hair and the other shoved deep into his pocket, fingers playing with the lint there. He looks away from Bender,
“You can, uh,” Fry scratches his head and tries again, says too loudly and too rushed, “Feel free to keep the jacket, Bender! I have, like, twenty hundred of them, so…”
Fry trails off, thinking that was probably a good point to end the conversation. He nods to himself in congratulations, happy he didn’t say anything weird or stupid, and reaches behind himself around to open the door behind him. He fumbles a bit with the doorknob, its a little lower then he’s used to with the door being off a hinge as it was, and looks over his shoulder to see Bender still has his optics locked on his. The robot still hasn’t made a sound.
“Um…” Fry’s breath catches a bit and he gives Bender a once over without thinking, eyes lingering over the way his jacket stretches over Bender’s round shoulders. They kind of makes Fry think of a trashcan, but an attractive one. Not that Bender’s a trashcan, or that Fry’s attracted to trashcans, because he’s not, Bender just- looks really good all the time. If he was a trashcan Fry’s sure he would be an attractive one, Bender could probably be an attractive anything if he tried. Again, not that Fry’s attracted to trashcans. Fry shakes his head and starts over,
“You look really good in it, too! The red really brings out your, uh, metal or something.”
Fry falters and turns back around quickly, hand rattling the doorknob, “Anyway, I’m just gonna-” he bolts before Bender can respond.
Fry groans as he runs, why did he have to go and say something weird? He was doing so good! Now he has to find somewhere else to pee before his bladder erupts.
Fry runs past the kitchen before skidding to a stop, turning around, and looks from the kitchen sink, to the direction of the bathroom, and back again… Are there laws in the future against peeing in the kitchen sink?
A/N: Here’s another imagine from Aja’s long list. I am happy to say that I’ve almost made through her list and I might post two imagines tomorrow. Who knows? I am hoping. Anyways, I hope that you like this imagine. I hate myself, because I keep on coming up with sad endings. Sorry. HAHAHA. A massive thank you for your support guys and I love you so much. I am happy to receive some positive feedbacks from you and your nice comments really make my day complete. Thank you so so so much, really! Enjoy this imagine!
P.S.: I am not accepting part 2 requests for my prompt imagines. Sorry.
“(Y/N), I need a muse for my Arts project, please.” Tyler, your best friend, insisted for the millionth time as he wanted you to model for him. He was the professional photographer of your school and he took pictures of everyone, but he has always wanted to have his own personal muse.
“Ty, I know that I’ve always been your muse, but I am busy this week. C'mon!” You answered, miffed. You explained him for more than thirty minutes why you were turning him down that time, but it didn’t seem that he understood your point.
“Damn!” He unleashed a heavy sigh as he watched you getting the things you needed for your Science class in your locker. “Who’s going to be my muse now?”
“I don’t know, Ty.” You shoved your books in your backpack and you carelessly shut your locker’s door. “Sorry.” You’ve never declined his offer, because you always had fun during your photoshoots with him, but you were really busy and you really felt sorry for him.
“Can’t you think of anyone who might accept my offer?” He desperately asked and followed you along the hallway as you started to walk towards your class.
You didn’t want to disappoint your best friend and you knew how paranoid he became when it came to searching for his muse. He never had this problem, since you’ve always accepted his offer, and he didn’t know what to do, panic was surely occupying his emotions.
You knew Tyler and he would always stick to only one subject for his school projects. You surely disappointed him, but he couldn’t blame you, because he knew that you had your own life too.
“Ty, why don’t you ask Jessica or Sheri?” You suggested as you stopped yourself from walking, which caused you and Tyler to bump into each other, fortunately not hurting yourselves.
“Alright, but you owe me one.” He was offended, but Tyler was a sweetheart and he understood serious things quickly. He was your best friend because he knew how to cope with you and how to respect your own decisions.
“No, I don’t!” You playfully replied, giggling as you saw him flashing his sweetest smile.
“Of course, you do.” He winked at you as he fidgeted with the cameras dangling on his neck. You both laughed, nevertheless it wasn’t really a big deal.
“I need to go, Ty.” You flashed him a smile as you thrusted your head to your classroom’s direction. He nodded with a big and wide smile on his face.
“Take care, okay?” He reminded you and you just nodded as you started to walk again, increasing the distance between the two of you. “You owe me something, remember that!”
“She doesn’t!” You heard a deep voice along the hallway and you perfectly knew to whom it belonged: Montgomery, your boyfriend.
“What do you want, Montgomery?” Tyler’s shaky voice demanded for you to turn around and to check what was going on between them. The hallway was almost empty and some students were already in their respective classrooms. “(Y/N) is my best friend, I have the right to talk to her.”
“No, you leave her alone.” Your eyes widen and you quickly ran back to Tyler and Montgomery as you heard a sudden loud and sharp bang against the cold metal locker doors. “Freak!”
“Monty!” You stopped your boyfriend, but he just grabbed Tyler’s midnight blue button up shirt and tightened his grip as much as he could.
“Fucking leave her alone.” Montgomery threatened your best friend with his angry voice and eyes widened, showing that the sight of Tyler talking to you displeased and vexed him.
“These are thousand dollar cameras.” Your best friend tried to defend himself, protecting his beloved cameras. He really loved them, because photography was his life and favourite hobby too. You stood in front of them and you thought that your presence would have stopped Montgomery from pushing Tyler against the lockers behind him.
“Oh, yeah.” Montgomery nodded as he looked straight into Tyler’s eyes. He was struggling a little bit as Tyler was little taller than him. “I’ll break them on your face.”
“Montgomery, stop!” You pushed your boyfriend away, pulling his fist off Tyler’s clothes.
Montgomery was acting up, because he was jealous of your relationship with Tyler. You surely knew Tyler longer than you and Montgomery did, so he was afraid that you would leave him for your best friend.
“Threatening Tyler with your useless shit wouldn’t help you to ruin my relationship with him, okay?” You fiercely looked at your boyfriend’s eyes as you let him understand that he was doing the wrong thing.
“Don’t worry,” Tyler blurted out as he fixed his crumpled shirt. “your girlfriend hates me too.” He pointed out as he was referring to your action before, declining his proposal to be his muse. He shrugged his shoulders off, trying to assure Montgomery.
“Cut it off, Tyler!” You rolled your eyes. “I can do this on my own, go to your next class and I will see you later.”
“Alright, fine!” Tyler guiltily responded as he walked quickly through the empty corridors of your school. You watched his silhouette disappearing slowly from afar and you turned yourself to your still-miffed-boyfriend.
“Let’s go, de la Cruz!” You grabbed his forearm and you dragged him to the main entrance of your school. “We’re talking about your behaviour, because I am starting to be fed up. Okay?”
You heard him unleashing a long sigh and he foresaw the trouble that he was into. He was just afraid to lose you and you couldn’t blame him, but he was overreacting and he was menacing someone who meant a lot to you.
You both sat down on a bench, putting your school materials aside, and you inhaled some fresh air first, before you let the happening sink in your mind once again. The rage wrapped your body one more time and you looked at Montgomery, trying to catch his gaze.
“Fuck this silence!” Montgomery threw a fit and he stood up from the bench. He seriously considered your eyes and he saw your dull gaze. “I’m sorry, okay? I was just jealous.”
“I know, Montgomery,” You unleashed a deep and heavy sigh. You couldn’t believe that he was still jealous of Tyler and you were already dating for almost five months, five long months. “but you couldn’t keep on threatening my best friend whenever your jealousy takes control of your good and kind heart.”
“Of course, I can.” He bravely objected your statement. “I’m your boyfriend, he’s just your best friend.”
You knew Montgomery and he was a tough guy. He would do anything to protect you and your relationship. He would fight against people to maintain the bond between the two of you.
You loved him even though he was like that and you were trying to let him understand that he should stop worrying about your relationship, because your heart beat only for him. In fact, he was the perfect boyfriend that you could ever wish for, but all of us had our own imperfections. Montgomery’s imperfection was this: his inability to control his anger and his jealousy.
“It doesn’t work that way. Do you know that?” You remained calm as you fidgeted with your long dark sleeves. Finally shaking off the thought that you were skipping your class for a pointless chaos. You tried to not to cry, because you had to be strong. He had to listen to you and you knew that he wouldn’t if you just broke down.
“He is obstructing our relationship, (Y/N). I would be worried if I didn’t care about what he was doing, you know?” He debated, not getting the real point of your opinion. He was a hard-headed guy and you sometimes despised him for being one.
“No, Montgomery!” You protested, standing up from the bench. “You know what is obstructing our relationship?”
“Tyler!” He stated as he raised his voice, still convinced that the real cause was Tyler. You shook your head continuously to let him know that his answer was wrong. He wasn’t stupid, but he was blinded by his jealousy. Of course.
“Wrong!” You whispered as you leant towards him, diminishing the distances of your faces. “Your trust, Montgomery.” You poked his chest with your index finger as you ferociously pointed out. “Trust.”
“Okay, I had my doubts, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t trust you.” Montgomery lowered his voice as he calmly explained his thoughts, but you thought that they were just some sort of excuses.
“Your doubts?” You questioned him. “You had your doubts again?”
“Yes!” He bravely answered, almost shouting against you.
“And you want us to be together, nevertheless your doubts?” You asked him, being sure of what he had in his mind. Tears were about to escape, but you stopped them. You needed to be strong, remember? You couldn’t believe that he doubted on you once again, even though you never missed any chance to make him feel that you loved him. He doubted on you and it seriously hurt you.
“Yes!” He repeated with a sure and convinced voice timbre. He didn’t notice that you were hurt and he still kept his pride, shielding himself against your opinion.
“You know what those doubts are doing in our relationship?” You mumbled, the words were almost couldn’t be heard.
“No.” His feet suddenly became more interesting than seeing your face. His voice died as he honestly responded to your question.
“They are wrecking us.” You weakly blurted out. You couldn’t imagine your life without Montgomery and it broke you, everything broke you. “So, if you don’t want to lose me, start shaking off those doubts, because I love you. You, only you, and no one else, Montgomery!”
You grabbed your backpack and your books from the bench as you slowly walked away from Montgomery, leaving him with his mouth ajar. You decided to head to your Science class, although you were already late. It was always better to be late, than never. Right?
The journey was hard and heavy for you. The love that you were feeling for Montgomery was pulling you to bring you back next to him. You wanted to let him know that he would never lose you, no matter what happened between the two of you. He would never lose you, because you didn’t want to lose him either.
You loved Montgomery so much, but he doubted on you. It was heart-breaking, because you didn’t expect that he would doubt on you again, the first time was when he didn’t know that Tyler was your best friend and he thought that you were cheating on him. Sad, right? But he was excused that time.
You walked away from him and you let your tears to run down your face, letting your resentments out. Tears were slowly burning your crimson red cheeks.
He had his point on being jealous of your relationship with Tyler, but doubting on you? That was wrong, because, after all, doubts were the one who ruined relationships the most.
Montgomery hurt you and you would always forgive him, he just needed to realize his mistake after you opened his eyes.
It was better to be safe than to be sorry, right? Right.