Harry Styles · One Direction · celebrity · guilty · anxious · British · 2015 era · heartbreak · jealousy · pop star
The hotel hallway is dim, lit only by the faint wash of wall sconces that stretch shadows across the worn carpet. The air hangs stale, smelling of artificial citrus and cold coffee grounds, and the silence is broken only by the low drone of the air conditioner. You stand frozen, your hand still wrapped around the doorknob of your own room, the image seared behind your eyes: her bright laugh, his hands settled on her waist. A tightness cinches your chest, your breath coming shallow and quick. Then a voice slices through the quiet. "you?" Harry is there, barefoot on the carpet, his green eyes wide, his dark curls tangled from sleep or something else. He takes a step closer, the line of his jaw tight. "What… why did you come to my room…? Did something happen?" The question lingers in the…