pyrite (harry styles) [completed]

epilogue two.

I'm SO SORRY about the delay on this! I went back and forth, and this felt the most right, since most of Harry & Lex's journey has been unconventional. So, without further ado... ❤️

I won't lie, the cracking sound my phone made while hitting the wall above the couch was extremely satisfying.

It made me feel the slightest bit better. For about six seconds.

Until I realized I just chucked my main line of communication with Harry against the wall well past the hours that the Apple store would be open for me to buy a new one.

So then came the tears.

Not sad tears, but frustrated ones. Because about six minutes before I'd decided to angrily murder my cell phone, I'd received the notice that my China visa had been denied.

And after research and speaking to someone at Harry's management team that had been helping secure those in time for the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, I'd learned there wasn't enough time to appeal and basically that meant I wasn't going.

Ordinarily this wouldn't have been a huge deal. A few years ago I may have been happy to get out of a long plane ride. But these days, these solo Harry days, I'd been battling a new demon.

All-consuming, overwhelming, borderline-psychotic jealousy.

I was jealous almost all of the time.

Like insanely, uncontrollably, green-eyed-monster jealousy.

For some reason this first half of the tour had made me crazy. And I had no explanation for why I was fine sharing him with 16-year-olds, but now that his fame had exploded into a more mainstream category I absolutely despised sharing him.

And that was just the girls in the audience and the new army of admirers he'd picked up now that it was "cool" to be openly obsessed with him.

That wasn't taking into account a handful of Victoria's Secret models he'd previously either hooked up with or had PR stunt relationships with.

Knowing I wouldn't be there by his side as he quite literally dove into a sea of some of the most beautiful girls in the world quite possibly was enough to drive me insane. Hence the now broken cell phone.

Now I couldn't even Facetime before bed, instead having to settle for a pathetic two lined email fired off from my laptop before turning in for the night.

In perfect Harry fashion, I'd woken up to him having messengered over a brand new iPhone waiting on the porch, alongside an obnoxious arrangement of six dozen red roses with a simple little perfectly apropos note, "To my only angel."

Once I got the phone working I shot off its first text to thank him, then set the wallpaper to a pic of the extravagant flowers.

It lit up a few seconds later, catching up to speed with my missed texts. He was Shanghai bound from London while I was supposed to be hopping on a plane at LAX.

His last couple texts were enough to make my paranoia take a back seat, if only for a few minutes, as I read the sweet messages that assured me he'd be on the first flight home as soon as he stepped off the stage.

He didn't mention anything to assuage my worries, but that's because I hadn't really confessed them. And in true delusional mode, that made me paranoid once again.

I needed to get out of the house, or I was going to drive myself insane.

I called Cara and hopped in my car and begged her to entertain me, and she agreed to a brunch at one of our favorite spots off of Doheny in an hour, which gave me some time to make myself presentable... but probably not enough.