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 :)


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.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...