Hold My Journal For Me (Mixed POVs)

The line that started it all. "Hold my journal for me." She thought he was just like everyone else. He was just being a gentleman. Little did they know, they were exactly what each of them needed. *Mature Themes and strong language included. This book will give you feelings.*


1. Our Encounter

Britt's POV

I walked to the bus stop, journal in hand and ear buds in. "Little Things" was on repeat on my iPhone 5c. "Lies." I muttered to myself " You're only believing and telling yourself lies."

The second verse, which contained both Louis and Harry's solos, began to play. Even though I thought the song was one giant lie, the second verse was still my favorite. Harry's deep voice and the way Louis annunciated his 'k's and 't's have always put me in a daze.

I approached the bus stop and saw my shoe was untied. I sighed. The bench was full and it was beginning to rain. With no where to set my most prized possession, I tapped the first person I saw on the shoulder.

My gaze first landed on a tall man, probably 5'10", with thick, brown curls. I sighed and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, but could you hold my journal for me please, while I tie my shoe?" I asked

He held out his hand and I placed my journal in it. The man next to me had no idea what I had trusted him with. He was just a stranger, why would I trust him so much?

I bent over, quickly tied my shoe, and stood up again. In a matter of 10 seconds, the man I had trusted lost my trust. As I tied my shoe, he opened the private book and began to study it.

"Your journal looks just like mine." He mumbled in a deep, husky British accent.

I looked up and saw him make the mistake of his life. "YOU IDIOT!!!" I roared. The people around us looked at me as if I was a mad woman. The look on the man who betrayed me's face was full of shock and worry. "THAT'S PRIVATE!!! DONT READ IT!!" I continued.

I snatched the book out of his hands and nearly slapped him with it. I stopped because I saw the bus pull up. The terrified crowd piled into the bus to escape my wrath.

I brought down my hand that held my book and gave the man a death glare. I got up in his face and point my index finger at him. "Don't. Read. My. Book."

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" He apologized

I growled silently and got on the bus. The man followed me. I looked around and the only two seats left were in the back.

I sighed angrily and walked over to the seats. The man with the curls followed me yet again.

As soon as he sat down next to me, he apologized again. He kept saying it, over and over again. I remained silent.

Once he said his fiftieth apology, I looked around to make sure no one was watching and/or listening to us.

As soon as I was sure, I broke down. "No," I sobbed, "I'm sorry. I nearly abused you, and what you did what an accident. You didn't know. I'm sorry, I'm a monster with anger issues." I continued crying and he put his arm around me.

He pressed his ear against mine. "Oh it's you, it's you they add up to. And I'm in lie with you, and all these little things!" Harry sang. I couldn't even manage a smile at "my babe"'s voice.

"You like One Direction?" He asked, his voice making him sound like he was judging me.

"Y-y-Yah." I managed

"Who's your favorite?"

"Louis and--"

"Why is Louis your favorite?"

"Long Story Short, he makes me feel normal. Not only that, but as if everyone else is weird, or 'special' or messed up because they're not like us." I smiled

"Who else?"

"Huh?" I asked

"You said 'Louis and--.' Who's the other?" He asked me, looking deep into my eyes even though his eyes were covered in sunglasses.



"The past few months of my life have been pure hell. And without him, and the butterfly tattoo, I would have committed suicide a couple of weeks ago."


"Yah." I blushed. Why was I telling a perfect stranger all of this? But the man reminded me of the fictional character, Owen Armstrong, who I had grown to fall in love with. They both wore rings on their fingers, had dark colored hair and were great listeners who asked questions that made ya think.

"Why the butterfly tattoo?"

"It's meaning. Sorry, possible meaning. I read a fan fiction that had a possible meaning in it and believed that was the actual meaning ever since. But it's probably just lies." I frowned, trying to hide the forming tears.

"What is this possible meaning?" He asked

"The butterfly is for the butterfly project. For people who cut, or self harm; who want to die. And it'd be on his stomach for the people starve themselves, or make themselves throw up. Cause that's self harm too. They were hurting themselves, on purpose. So yah, Harry considered it self harm." I quoted the meaning from one of my favorite fan fictions.



"Ya know what I've heard?"


"I heard that is the real, actual meaning."

"Really?!?" I nearly shouted

"Yep." He smiled. "Hey, can I have your phone real quick?"

"Sure..." I handed over my phone.

He went into Kik and added someone to my contacts and sent them the message, "Hi!" He then went to my contacts and filled out a new contact. He called the person and texted them as well as offered a FaceTime chat.

He then handed me back me phone as the bus pulled to a stop. He grabbed one of the two look alike journals and got off.

Almost. He walked back towards me, planted a kiss on my cheek and walked out onto the street.

His final words before getting off the bus complete were, "I forgive you."

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