The Art of Fake Dating // h.s.

Chapter 20

Hey guys, sorry for the long wait, I had a lot of college stuff to do. But to make up for it I made this chapter really long. It's exactly 7 pages in Word and nearly 4K words, just a token of my love for you guys! :) Also, I saw that this story reached 10K reads! That makes me so happy thank you so much guys .xx Vote please!

Chapter 20

Christina’s POV

It’s been six months now. Six months of lying to the media, putting on a show, and keeping Harry and I’s true relationship private. Six months of him being a jerk to everyone but me and the boys; but you know how they say that if you act a certain way for so long that, that is eventually who you become? That’s what I was worried about.

Harry wasn’t a complete jerk back at our apartment; he was still my Harry. We had our cute moments but just like every couple we had our fights and breakdowns.

“You can’t just do shit like that, Harry! You just need to maintain an image, not get completely out of line!” I yelled at him, slamming the apartment door. I was furious. I felt the heat crowding my face and I couldn’t help the glare that sent daggers at Harry.

“What? I needed to create a scene. You can’t tell me that the stunt I just pulled wasn’t chaos at its finest.” He responded, turning around the face me, hands on both hips. I scanned his face for any sign of regret, but if anything he seemed proud of his actions.

“Harry, egging a paparazzi car and flipping restaurant tables is not the image you want to create! We agreed on the bad boy image, not throwing your career down the drain! You’re lucky the restaurant didn’t sue. You broke some of their finest plates and glasses, and they were nothing but nice to you. What has gotten into you lately?” I asked him. It was the one question running through my mind through all of Harry’s recent outbursts.

“Nothing has gotten into me lately, Christina. Maybe this is who I am. For once in my life, I am actually having fun and living a little. Haven’t you ever wanted to let go? Why are you trying to stop me? Isn’t this what you wanted? I’m doing this for us.” He came closer to me, grabbing my hands in his. “This is all so we can be together behind closed doors, like we are right now, and not have to worry about who’s lurking in the bushes outside the apartment building. This is what you wanted.”

I jerked my hands away from his and stood my ground. “No, Harry, this is what you wanted. I went along with it because it seemed like it was the only way that you could be fully content with our relationship. I was fine with everything. I was fine with having paps on our tail because either way I would still have you. But this," I said, looking the man in front of me up and down, " isn’t my Harry. I don’t know who you are anymore. I just want my Harry back; the one that I knew would be here for me no matter what to keep me safe, to make me feel loved, the one that I would be proud to call mine. So when you find him, tell him I’ll be waiting.” His gaze fell to the ground, and he stood there speechless. My words hurt him, I could tell, but I had to do it.

He was slipping, I could tell. I could see him gradually losing himself, and I wanted to help him up from the steep slope down, before he became so off-balanced no one could break his tumble.

Later that night, I heard the hinge of my room door creak, awakening me from my slumber. I sat up in my bed, peering at the doorway from where a little light shined through. I put my hand up in front of my face, blocking the glare of the light, and squinted in the direction of the figure standing in my doorway.

“Harry?” I questioned, my voice still laced with sleep. I stifled a yawn that threatened to escape my lips, and readjusted my seating position to where it was more comfortable.