Break Up

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"What're you watching?" I ask Louis, as I enter the lounge with a cup of hot tea. He turns his head slightly to look at me, and then faces the television again.
"Arrow," Louis mutters. Why does he always have to be so cold around me? I have never wronged him.
"What season?" I don't give a damn if he gets irritated. Louis' in my lounge, and he lives in my house. Therefore, I can bother him as much as I want and he can't go anywhere else to get away from me. Especially because there's no security available right now, and there are hundreds of fans outside my house, ready to strip either of the boys.
"Four," Louis murmurs again. I roll my eyes, settling on the couch opposite him.
"Why do you hate me so much?" I ask Louis. My eyes widen as I realize just how blunt I've been with him. I just blurted out the fact that I think he hates me. Louis' eyes turn toward me lazily.
"I don't hate you, Mus. I don't like the direction in which your relationship with Harry is headed," Louis says. I narrow my eyes at him.
"What do you mean? We're doing great." Louis clicks his tongue.
"Not that direction, dumbo. I mean, I don't like you with Harry. Mus, you're going to bring so much negative attention to the band and Harry. For fucks sake, you're eighteen and he's twenty-four." Louis throws his hands into the air, and brings them back down on the couch with a thud.
"So? Age is just a number."
"Age might just be a number for you, but it isn't for the media." Louis looks at me as if I'm a child. "He's an old man - not that old, but I know you understand what I'm saying - and you're eighteen. A teenager! Yeah, your minds think alike because we're all immature and men's minds always work five years backward. But still, Mus! See the harm that you're going to inflict." I never thought about our relationship in that manner. For me, Harry's just a man, who I really care about. A man who's in a relationship with me. Our age factor has never crossed my mind, and neither has the fact that I could be undermining his career. Louis scoffs. "See, you're so lost in each other that what I'm saying hasn't even crossed your mind once."
"I-I'm sorry," I whisper. That's all I can say.
"You should be, Mus. Think about what I'm saying and talk to Harry. I've tried talking to him - more than a million times - however, he's so in love with you that he doesn't care. Not only are you going to affect his career, but ours, too. Forget our careers, you're destroying a perfectly good friendship." Louis' tone is accusatory and his gaze is venomous.
"I'll go and get some more tea." I say, giving Louis a weak smile. I get up and hastily make my way out of the lounge. Louis' shown me a mirror. A mirror regarding what I'm doing without even knowing it. I don't mean any harm to Harry. I care about him too much to do so. But, Louis' right and I need to do something about Harry and my relationship, before he starts hating me for things that I won't do intentionally.
"Bumper, you've been sitting up here alone, since morning." Harry says, entering my room, and walking toward me.
"Yeah, I was just making this." I say, holding up the bracelet in my hand. It's a multi-colored bracelet made of threads and I'm hanging charms on it right now. I've hung a butterfly, honeybee and a crescent charm already.
"It's very pretty." Harry sits down on the bed beside my legs, and places his hand on my bare thigh. A tingle passes through my spine.
"Thanks," I murmur. I don't have the courage to look up at Harry because of what I'm about to do.
"What's wrong, Bump?" Harry asks, tipping my chin up and toward him with his free hand. I cast my eyes downwards. "I can read you like a magazine." Harry chuckles at his own stupid joke.
"Taylor Swift, really?" I let out a small laugh and begin to hang another charm on the bracelet. But the song and singer fits the situation perfectly because of what I'm about to do. "We should break up," I mumble.
"I don't think I heard you correctly, Bumper. Say that again." The tinge of sadness in Harry's tone tells me that he's heard me crystal clear.
"I think we need to b-break up." I say louder than before. Harry's hand stills on my thigh and the air in the room changes. It goes from comfortable to tense.
"What?" Harry asks. Timidly, I raise my eyes to meet his gaze.
"You heard me, Harry." My voice breaks toward the end, so I clear my throat. "We're not good for each other."
"Bump, who said that? Why would you think that?" Harry's hands grip mine and he squeezes them. "What did I do?"
"Nothing, Harry, nothing." I answer hastily. "It's me, not you."
"Really? It's not you, it's me. That's the best you can come up with." Harry gets off the bed and crouches in front of my feet, his hands never leaving mine. "Bumper, look at me directly in the eyes and tell me why the hell you're breaking up with me." I shake my head, and get up. With my back turned toward Harry, I let a few tears rush down my cheeks, before I wipe them clean.
"Harry, I just don't feel anything between us. No spark," lie. "I don't feel any love toward you." Lie. "While we're together, I feel attracted toward other men." Lie. "Your life is making mine hell. Harry, I can't leave my house because of you and I'm not enjoying it." Lie. I don't mind staying cooped up in my house with Harry, Kate, Gregg and the boys. Kate and Gregg can leave whenever they want, but I can't because my face is plastered all over magazines and tabloids alongside Harry. Gregg's a big name, however, he still doesn't have a huge fan base. Plus, all the girls, and boys outside my house want to see One Direction, not Gregg. "Stay here till you guys can get a ticket, and make arrangements for Europe. I don't mind that, just don't...we're done. Period."
"You're not looking at me, Bump. Tell me the real reason for your change of mind." I cough to conceal a sniff. "Please." I turn on my heels to face Harry. Tears, don't betray me now.
"I am not answerable to you, and I don't want to. Just leave, Harry. Go!" I wince at my own harsh tone, and cold voice. Harry stares at me for a few seconds.
"Fine," Harry whispers. "If this is what you want, then fine. But I'll try again, and again, until you tell me the real reason."
"There's no other reason," I say. I cross my arms over my chest, and shrug my shoulders. Harry walks past me, and exits the room.
"You know this as well as I do that you're lying." Saying this, he shuts the door gently.

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