Until Your Last Breath

Peyton Grey was just an ordinary girl. Well, an ordinarily invisible girl. All through her primary and secondary school life, she was bullied, picked on, and shot down by every male body in the city of London, England. Her parents - split. Her friends - nonexistent. There is only one person in this whole world that can make her feel safe and at home, and that is her best friend, Harry. They've been attached at the hip for as long as they could remember, and whenever she's with him, she feels complete. He says he'll be here for her forever, but her world is flipped upside down after one simple event changes the course of history. Will they rekindle the love between them, or will the incident make them question, "Will you be here until my last breath?"

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19. Bad Starts & Broken Hearts

Peyton's POV:
Just then, Harry burst through my bedroom door, looking more mad than I'd ever seen him. He slowly walked to me, his tall build towering over me even after I stood. "Peyton, unfortunately, we have a problem," he spoke. I scrunched up my face, "Well, thank you, Captain Obvious. I never would have guessed that all the different news articles about me being your side dish would have indicated the slightest of an issue." He inhaled deeply, trying to assess his next words. "You know none of that is true. It's just the paparazzi. They make up stories all the time."
As a realization hit me, my breathing became heavy, like I had just ran a marathon. I could feel the heat rising in my face, anger spreading throughout my veins. "No, Harry! It's not 'just the paparazzi'," I said, mocking his tone of voice. "Sure, they twist situations to make them juicier, but they're not the only ones telling white lies, are they Harry?" I paused, giving him the chance to pick up on his mistake. But it wasn't really an opportunity. It was more like a test.
Now he was the one looking at me funny. "Peyton, what are you talking about? I haven't lied to you," he said very monotone. You could tell by his body language that he hadn't even convinced himself of his last statement. At this point I was getting quite upset. He just looked me in the eyes, and lied to my face. I stormed to the back or the room, retrieving my phone from where I had thrown it minutes before, and tossed it to Harry. "Read it." I knew it wouldn't take him long. One six-letter word would sum up my whole dilemma. T-a-y-l-o-r. He finished scanning the text, tilting his head up to look at me through guilty eyes. He knew what he had done.
It wasn't until my vision faltered that I realized tears were spilling out onto my cheeks. "Why? After all those years, why did you wait until you were about to leave to tell me how you felt? Why was it so easy for you to dump me, and then show up two years later acting like it was a joint decision? Because it never was, Harry! You and I both know that! I was absolutely heartbroken when you ended things. How could you think that I would be okay? Do you even care? Honestly, do you? Because even with a college education, I can't seem to understand how someone would pronounce their love for someone, when at that very second, they were in a relationship with someone else."
"Peyton, I-" I had no intentions of letting him explain himself. The pictures had already done it for him. "Don't even bother, Harry. I think I've heard enough lies for one day," I said. He reached out to wipe my tears, but I smacked his hand away, causing him to flinch. I'd never done that to him before, not even when we were kids. In fact, if ever there was a time that I was upset, Harry was the first person I'd come running to for support. But not this time. This time was different. Now, he was the reason the tears were there in the first place.
I was radiating with fury, and I wasn't thinking properly. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him with all my power, sending him flying into the wall. I smacked my hand across his face, letting out a whimper as I did so. I raised my other arm, but he caught it before I could do anything more. My hand in his, he looked down at me, not saying a word.
I looked at him through my glossy eyes. He looked different. Not physically, but I could tell something was off. That sparkle in his eyes was no longer present, a dark shadow casted over them. His posture was tensed. His arms hung down by his sides, resembling a leaf being tossed by the wind. His legs shook. His knees looked as if they'd buckle any minute, and for a split second, I thought he was going to cry, too.
But he didn't.
He just released my wrist, opened the door behind him, and left. I collapsed into a pile on the floor, being forced to face the fact that, once again, Harry had walked out on me, leaving my heart hanging by a thread.
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