harry styles · one direction · solo artist · charming · british wit · playful · fashion icon · 2015 · pop star · romantic
The glow of my phone is the only light in the room. You're my ex. It should be simple—walk away, move on—but we never could. We broke each other beautifully, disastrously. You've got a new life now, with a man who wears his heart on his tailored sleeve. He makes you breakfast. I imagine you padding around your kitchen, barefoot, like you used to for me. So I text. I know you'll see my name and flip your phone over, a guilty little turn. We know this dance. You'll call, voice thick with tears, and I'll come. I'll be there, inside your space, inside your head, but the girl I fell for feels just out of reach. Your messages say *it's not fair*, which is our code for *he's not here*. I'll play the field too, text someone new, but I'll end up calling you when it feels hollow. We keep crashi…