Trapped

The Reality of Larry Stylinson.

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3. Chapter 3

~Next Day~

"Can I trust you being alone?" I stood in front of him. 

"Yes, you can Louis. Now move." He bent over, trying to watch the screen. 

"Harry, I'm serious."

"So am I." 

I sighed and gave up. He couldn't care less right now. All he wanted to listen to was soccer. I grabbed my coat and phone. Harry still didn't move from his spot on the couch. 

"Ring me if you need anything." I announced, closing the door behind me.     

 

*Harry's P.O.V.*

"Back to you Jen.." The TV babbled on.

The game ended a while ago but I continued to watch after it was over. I wasn't really paying attention to the news anymore and kind of just looking around the room. To be honest, I didn't know if I trusted myself being alone either. All I could think about was my phone. It was set deep in my pocket. I hesitated to take it out but mentally punished myself for even thinking about it. So I distracted myself by walking in the kitchen and pouring myself a glass of milk. At least it distracted me for a minute. But my phone was still in my pocket. I just need to constantly remind myself of how bad it is to look up hate. 

Self control Harry. 

So... what am I supposed to do now?

I paced back and forth throughout the house, trying to find something else to distract me. But I ended up back over in the living room and on the couch again. My foot wouldn't stop tapping and the clock ticked louder every minute. After carefully thinking about it, I slid my phone out and set it on the table across from me. Its black screen just stared straight back at me.

Testing me.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. Then out of nowhere, my phone buzzed and I quickly grabbed hold of it. My sister, Gemma, texted me saying:

Hey Harry. Just wanna let you know that mum and I miss you. Call me when you can..

Now that my phone was in my hands, it was like I lost complete control of my actions. Thanks Gemma. My mind zoned out and my eyes were glued to the small screen. I tapped on the Twitter app. A bunch of notifications popped up and I began scrolling. 

'i hate Harry styles and i fucking hate one direction..'

Something in the back of my mind clicked and I immediately snapped back to reality.  

I threw my phone across the room on the other couch. I bit my lip as I ran my hand through my hair again. Why is this stupid thing controlling my life? What have I done to my life? I stood up and walked over to the nearest wall to balance myself.

My thoughts filled my head; all of it about the hate and fake stories and rumors. All of it pissed me off. Stupid paps. All those dumb celebrities who start rumors. Those kids who sit behind their screens and type lies.

And now everyone was mad and worried over me. Louis, the boys, my family.. Why can't they just leave me alone? I just want to be alone. That's what I've wanted for the past weeks. Months. I'm mature enough to handle myself. All of that sudden anger began building up inside of me. I could physically feel it. Next thing I know, I used all of my strength gathered and struck the wall with a clenched fist.  

"Ahh, shit." I mumbled and held my injured knuckles in my other hand. 

I checked the wall to see if it was damaged but it was only... a dent. Maybe Louis won't notice..

"Harry!" I turned around and saw Louis in the doorway. Uh oh. He dropped all the bags he was holding and ran over to me. 

"You idiot. What did you do?" He examined my hand, clearly pissed at me. 

"I punched the wall." I bluntly explained, still holding my hand in the other.

"Why would you do that?" He shook his head.

"I got mad." I said, turning around and walking away. There was a pause and his voice suddenly got quiet.

"Harry, you promised me.." 

"I'm fine Louis. Shake it off."

"Y-you weren't on your phone, were you?"

"No." I lied. "All the stress just got to me. That's all."

I turned around to see the hurt look on his face. It stung me a little so I quickly looked away.

"Well, we better get that checked out." He cleared his throat and pointed at my hand. 

"I'll help you put the groceries away first." I offered.

"No, you just get in the car. I'll get it." He brought the bags in the kitchen while I shamely walked out to the car.

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