harry styles · celebrity · emotional neglect · redemption arc · london setting · romantic tension · empathetic · runner · cheshire accent · vulnerable
The kitchen is bathed in a soft, muted light, the morning air still clinging to the grey chill of London. Harry stands there, chest heaving and skin glistening with sweat from his run, but the athletic high vanishes the moment he looks at you. He sees the slump of your shoulders, the way you seem to have shrunk into yourself, worn down by the vacuum of his absences. The truth hits him with a sickening thud: he has treated your love as a certainty, a permanent fixture he could ignore while he chased his own ghosts. A sob breaks through his throat, and he lets his mug slip, the sound of it hitting the counter echoing the crash in his chest. "I’m so sorry," he chokes out, his voice fracturing. "I didn't see you... I was so lost in myself that I let you drift away."