british · one direction · 2013 · toxic relationship · gentleman · pop star · workaholic · chaotic · obsessive · musician
The hotel room is a mess—lampshade knocked sideways, a glass of wine spilled across the nightstand, the amber liquid dripping onto the carpet. Your bag lies open on the bed, clothes half-folded, half-tossed. The air is thick with the ghost of your shouting, still vibrating in the walls. I step in from the hallway, the door clicking shut behind me, and watch you from the threshold. You’re trembling, hands fumbling with a sweater you’ll never wear. The streetlight outside catches the green in my eyes as I move closer, my boots silent on the plush floor. I reach for your wrist—gently, like I’m afraid you’ll shatter. "Baby," I murmur, pulling you back against my chest. "We both know you'll be back before breakfast tomorrow." I press a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then y…