Sugar (Harry Styles)

20.

When you’re the daughter of Aphrodite, your whole life is about love. You see it in every person, every being. You look at couples and immediately know their love story. You can look at children and know who they fancy before they even recognize it. Daphne used to be so interested in love, so eager to watch things happen but that wasn’t the case anymore.

Every couple Daphne saw on the street, every smiling face, every kiss, every touch they were like daggers to her heart. She hated love. She didn’t want to look at it. She didn’t want to feel it. She wanted it out of her system. Love had caused her nothing but pain.  

She shut off her phone, wanting to be lost. There was no real reason to do so, no one really ever called or texted her. There were only a handful of contacts she kept and none of which seemed important at that time. She knew that Harry was out of love with her and he would never reach out again. She wouldn’t hear his tired voice in her ears or his laugh that he quickly stifled with his hand. She wouldn’t get to hear him say that he loved her anymore; there would be no love between them from that night on.

Daphne wished there was some magic water that made her fall out of love but there wasn’t. There was nothing that could take away the pain she felt, that god awful pain. It wasn’t the kind of pain that left you incapable of walking, but it did leave you incapable of living. Daphne struggled to get herself off that beach and back into her car. Even once she was there, she spent most of the day and night curled up in the back seat. The only time she actually was motivated to leave was when her stomach growled angrily in hunger.

She drove back to Manchester. It wasn’t far away from Holmes Chapel but it was big enough to get lost in, no one would know her there. She thought about staying in her car for another night, saving on money. She bought a quick bite to eat on a street corner before she sat on the back of her car, watching as people walked by, excited for a night out of partying. She used to like to go out and dance. She had no reason to dance tonight. No amount of alcohol or male attention would take this pain away.

Daphne finished her food and moved back into her car. She had lived out of her car many times before; it was nothing new to her. She knew that it was dangerous for a girl like her, a girl who drew men to her naturally without even trying. She almost wanted it though. She wanted something, anything to give her the same thrill that Harry did when he kissed her. All that she could think of was how he thought she was just a seductress, a demon sent to torture him and enslave him with her love.

She did want to enslave him with her love, but she was his slave too. It was called being devoted. She wanted devotion, undying love. It seemed like she would never get it.

As she started the engine back up Daphne thought about where to go, what places were safe to park at and sleep for the night. She ended up finding a neighborhood just outside of town that had a nice park. The place seemed safe enough. She parked the car and moved into the back seat after locking all her doors and curled up with her heart sheets and pillows she had snatched from her bed in a hurry to get out of town. She was glad Harry never spent the night with her at her place, she didn’t know if she could handle smelling him on her sheets as she slept. She knew that she would remember it faintly somewhere down the line. She would walk past a stranger in the street who smelled of warm yeast, milk, and flour. She would find his scent alluring and quickly be reminded of the pain.

As Daphne closed her eyes to find sleep, she was surprised to find it quicker than anticipated. Maybe it was because she was that upset. She had nothing going for her to make her excited to do anything else. She just wanted to sleep. Sleep away the pain. Sleep away the heartache. Sleep until it didn’t hurt anymore. One day she would wake up and it would be better, but that day wasn’t tomorrow or the day after. Maybe it was a month from now, maybe a year. Whenever that day decided to come, she wanted it, she was ready for it.