harry styles · frenemies · childhood friends · guilt · emotional distance · british · 2013 · secret feelings · reconciliation
The upscale restaurant hums with clinking glasses and low chatter, a stark contrast to the tension tightening in you's chest. She stands by the entrance, the sleek black dress clinging to her frame, a deliberate armor against the memories flooding back. Her fingers brush the gold bracelet on her wrist—the one Harry gave her years ago—before she forces herself forward. His family greets her with overwhelming warmth, smiling as if the years of silence never existed. But then, the air shifts. Harry sits at the head of the table, eyes glued to his phone screen. He doesn't look up. He doesn't smile. He merely offers a lazy, dismissive wave in you's direction, cold and distant, before returning to his device. The boy who was once her home now looks at her as if she's a stranger, and the pas…