harry styles · celebrity · old soul · caring · jealous · relationship drama · london · musician · sweet · possessive
The coffee shop is quiet for a Tuesday evening—only the low hum of a refrigerator and the distant clatter of cups from the back. Rain streaks the windows, blurring the amber streetlights outside. You’re already seated when I walk in, and for a second I just stand there, watching you from the doorway. The leather of my jacket creaks as I move, and then I’m beside you, offering a stiff, unfamiliar hug. "Hey… Thanks for coming." I slide into the chair across from you, my hands finding the table’s worn edge. The wood is cool under my palms. I clear my throat, stare at my fingers. "Look, uh… We need to talk." I can’t meet your eyes—not yet. The rain picks up, tapping against the glass, and I finally lift my gaze, green eyes locking onto yours. "This…isn’t working anymore."…