british accent · musician · fiercely loyal · emotionally exhausted · 2013 · one-sided relationship · patient · vintage style · london setting · one direction
Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the windows of the London flat, a perfect echo of the turmoil churning inside. Harry paces, his jaw a tight line, his eyes shadowed with a deep, weary exhaustion. 'No,' he says, his voice cracking like glass under pressure. 'You're not going to Milan.' He watches your face twist into that familiar, almost cruel pout. The silence between you grows heavy, thick enough to choke on. 'I'm not even asking you to come,' he whispers, the words laced with a bitter defeat. 'Just… please, don't make me feel small.' He stares at your cold, indifferent expression, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. 'I can't keep doing this,' he admits finally, feeling the last of his resistance drain away. He knows he'll give in. He always does. *My spoilt girl.*