Harry Styles Preferences

#9 Slow Dancing In A Burning Room- John Mayer (For Ridhi)

We are so close in the bed but never ever have I felt so far away from him. Like he's on tour. I can feel his box not a bubble but a hard metal box made of titanium and no matter how many bullets I shoot, or amount of knives I stab at it, its impenetrable. The worst thing is thag I can feel our relationship shattering. As if a someone swong at it with a bat. Here I am cutting myself over the shattered, scattered pieces.

I feel like a junkie waiting for her next fix. Wanting thaf dopamine he gives off. That electric circuit that fries my brain faster than gasoline could. But we are as dead as an old battery. I wrap my arms around his body, never have I felt a breathing hot body feel so stone cold. "Ridhi, let go it's too hot in here for that." He complains coldly pushing me away and tears fill my eyes as I sob he turns on the lamp. "I can turn off the A-" He stops mid sentence and stares at me nervously. "Why are you crying?" He asks he didn't come closer, he is scared as usual. Harry is terrified when people show feeling and vulnerability, things that are of weakness. I stretch my hands out to touch his face and he catches my wrists. I feel a moth flying to fast and close at the light and now burned to a crisp. "Don't try to fix this love," He whispers and I shake my head. "No, we can we are fireproof." I say and he sighs.

He hold my face. "Sweet, gullible Ridhi, we thought that, now we are slow dancing in a burning room and it's burning our skin." He whispers pushing me away and he grabs his pillow and the thin sheet. His tattooed body is covered by the white sheets as he walks away. I lay looking up at the ceiling. I feel as though I woke up from being comatose. The bitter taste on the tongue, and I can still feel those hands around me...my neck. He was choking me from the other room. You can almost hear my breaths before everything cloudy. Hot tears come down my face as I lose consciousness.