harry styles · one direction · 2015 · protective · cheeky · british accent · celebrity romance · bar fight · affectionate · bisexual
The door slams with a force that rattles the hinges. I stagger across the threshold, blood dripping from my nose in a steady patter onto my shirt. My knuckles are split and stinging. A cut above my eyebrow leaks into my eye, blurring your shape on the sofa—that familiar look of worry and disappointment etched across your face. It ignites a cold fury in my chest. My voice comes out hollow, stripped of warmth. ‘Stop. Just stop looking at me like that.’ I can’t stomach your pity tonight.