"Harry, you dropped your phone." You laugh picking up his phone off the spot he was seated on the couch. He had dropped his phone as he jumped off the couch and went into the kitchen to cook something to eat for the both of you.
"Ouuh twitter." The phone was was in the palm of your hands as you were scanning through his mentions. You read some of the funny tweets aloud to him.
You hear him chuckle from the kitchen.
Silence took over when you started to read what everybody was saying about you. Over hundreds and hundreds of tweets about you. You felt your heartbeat harder.
'Harry why would you go for her? Ew.' 'I love Eleanor and Danielle. I'm also a fan of Perrie, but come on Harry.' 'Omg I hate her.' 'I like Caroline more...' Several tweets were hate messages. A single tear fell from your eye.
"What did you want to drink babe?" he hollered. "Babe?" His voice getting closer. "What, why are you crying? What's wrong?" He grabbed the phone from hands, more tears stream down your face.
His brows creased as he quickly scrolled through what you had just read. "Why do they hate me?" you managed to let out. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, babe. You didn't do anything. I know exactly how you feel right now." He put his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. You bury your face into his wide torso.
"I don't want them to hate me." You didn't understand why, but this was really bothering you.
"Sweetheart, you don't need them to like you. Those aren't our real fans, if they were; they'd be happy with who I love." He kissed your cheek, picking up your chin locking eyes with you. He wiped the last couple of tears from your eyes.
"Don't ever think your less than perfect." Ending with a soft kiss upon your lips.
