Me, Him, Us

I almost broke his ankle and he still loves me. We had a big fight and he still loves me. I am ordinarlly amazing and he still loves me. And guess what? I love him too. My name is Angie Blight. His name is Harry Styles. This isn't only my story but ours. No not a story but a tale :)

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18. Pity

I chase Harry down the hall but he’s faster than me. His door slams inches from my face. I heard him lock the door. That’s when the tears spilled down my cheeks and onto my new dress. I pound his door and yell

“Harry open the door! Please! I want to talk to you!” I pressed my ear to the door but all I heard was silence. I began pounding again hoping he would open the door and let us talk. “Harold I won’t leave until you open this door!” I shake the handle knowing it won’t budge, I think it’s a human reflex, to just jiggle to make sure that the door being locked isn’t just some crazy illusion. To my disappointment it wasn’t. “Dimples…please…” I blubber on sliding against the hallway wall. I could hear sheets rustling, a few seconds later the light coming beneath the crack was turned off. I let out a gagged sigh.

“Evie I’m sure he’ll come around.” I hear Zayn say from above. I look up; pity was painted all over his warm face.

“No! it’s my fault! Why would I do that? I am such a slut! I am like mom! I never, ever wanted to be like her but I guess I am no different.” A sob escapes my lips and Zayn slides down beside and places a reassuring arm over my shoulders. “I love him Zayn, I do with every little bit of my heart.” He squeezes my shoulder and we sit in silence staring at the blank wall in front of us.

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