The Lucky One

Famous Harry Styles and Bella Armstrong had fallen in love and everybody knew it. two years. Two years of fun, happiness, and most importantly, romance. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Bella found out that Harry had been cheating on her for a year. Now, Bella not only has to deal with the fact that the love of her life had lied to her, but now she has to LIVE with him until she finds a place of her own. But it might not all be bad. Who knows, they might start talking to one another again. But what will happen when all secrets come out? Will Bella ever trust Harry again? Will love conquer all? READ & FIND OUT!

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1. Long Morning

I woke up with the smell of hazelnut coffee intoxicating my senses. Changing into a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, i made my way downstairs, the aroma guiding me towards the kitchen.

Downstairs, I found Harry leaning against the kitchen counter, looking down, stirring a teabag round his cup. I think he sensed my presence, because he turned round, slid the cup of coffee towards me, then walked away. Probably to his room. He spends mose of his time in there.

It had been 3 months, almost 4,  since harry and i had broken up. Ever since then, it has been tense. We did though, agree to let me stay at his flat until I found a stable place for mysel. So now, our mornings consist of making breakfeast for one another every now and then, exchanging a few words, then getting dressed and leaving the flat as fast as possible to avoid more conversation with each other. Even though I act like it's nothing, all of this kills me inside. It hurts that I don't wake up everymorning and I find Harry laying next to me, arms wrapped round my waist, his gorgeous curls all over his face. I miss us going out in public and holding hands, letting everyone know that he was mine and I was his.

But i couldn't. Because we were broken up. Anything we had in the past, was over. We were over.

 

Finishingmy coffee, I rinsed the cup, and ran upstairs, taking the stairs two steps at a time. I found Harry sitting at the edge of my bed, fidling with his fingers.

"Need something?" I asked, still standing at the door, gripping to the knob tightly.

"Yeah," he sighed rubbing his hands against his thighs and standing up. "my paper airplaine necklace."

"Why?" I asked walking over to my dresser. "Does Darla get to have it now?"

"Bella," he said calmly, but there was a hint of frusturation in his voice. "Please."

"What?" I asked tossing him the necklace in the proccess. "I'm just saying-"

"And i'm just saying," he said interupting me. "that you need to drop it."

"Drop it?" I asked, a sarcastic yet nervous laugh that escaped my lips. I got serious. "Two years Harry," I almost whispered. "Was she really worth two years?" Then I walked to my bathroom, where I slowly slipped onto the floor and wept quietly, carefully no to let Harry hear me.

 

After my crying scene, I got up and brushed my teeth. During the proccess, I took a minute to look at myself in the mirror. What happened? I wasn't ugly. Actually, I considered myself to be quite attractive. Big, light blue eyes, sun-kissed skin, small amount of freckles round my nose, long, wavy, sandy blonde hair that reached my upper back, and everybody's favourite feature of me: my Angelina Jolie perfect replica lips. People loved them. Some pople would ask me if they were real and angrily yet sweetly, i would answer "yes". i was not very tall, i was actually "5'8", i was skinny, but i did have a bum and some chest, not a lot, but they were something.

So what was the problem? What did she have that I didn't? What could she have possibly given him that i haven't already? Those were questions that were yet to be answered.

Tossing my thoughts aside, I wiped my tears away and opened the door, walking out to the room, where Harry still stood, hands in pockets, head bowed.

He looked up and gave a sly smile, "You're wearing my shirt." he said.

"You want this too?" i asked. What more of him did he want to rip away from me?

"No" he said sitting back on my bed, exhaling deeply, "I want... we need to talk- about what happened."

"What's there to talk bout?" i asked crossing my arms against my chest. He always loved when i did that. He said it made me look "independent" yet "voulnerable" at the same time. I countinued, "You had me fooled for two years, cheated on me with some bloody fan, then dumped me- wait, i dumped YOUR sorry arse, which-"

"I miss you." he said cutting me off once more.

 

 

 

 

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