Remember Me [harry styles] ✓

37 - Declarations and disappointment

"You don't really want my heart, you just like to know you can still be the one who gets it breaking."

I've barely got my phone into my pocket before Harry speaks.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Juni." He exclaims breathlessly; marching across the courtyard; still glittering gold and charcoal. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

I wipe both my eyes with the palms of my hands and look up to face him, just as he comes to a standstill about a foot away. He looks wary, almost as if he hasn't met me before. As if I'm a stranger. "Good for you."

The words roll off my tongue thickly coated with venom and I know Eve would be proud.

"Please don't be like that." He sighs and I watch as he scratches the back of his neck with his left hand. He's feeling uncomfortable - good. "I think we need to talk about what just happened."

I almost laugh. "Oh - you think?"

"I-" he looks down, and I'm taken back to that day in the Gelato Store - him sat opposite me at one of the tiny tables and refusing to acknowledge his mistakes. I hate that we've wound up here again - in another shitty, disappointing situation.

I want to be strong, I do, but the weight of all this is like a slab of concrete against my already broken chest. "How could you do this to me?" I wonder if my voice sounds just as pathetic to him as it does to my own ears. "Why would you do this to me?"

He shakes his head; matted waves bouncing with the movement. There's nearly a whole can of hairspray in there and I hate that I know that. I hate that I know all these tiny, insignificant details about a boy who has managed to break me for a second time. "It's not like that, Juni." But even he doesn't sound convinced.

"Tell me about her." I snap, bringing my arms to sit folded across my chest. My heart beats angrily beneath them; slamming against my ribcage as if it wants to break free and fight Harry itself. His jaw drops but he doesn't speak. "Let me help - her name's Camille. What else?"

"Don't do this, Juni. I don't want to talk about her, I want to talk about us."

And I want to tear your head from your body, but we don't always get what we want.

"Who the hell is she, Harry? Why didn't you tell me about her?" I hope that he can ignore the wobble in my voice and just give me some damn answers, because neither one of us is leaving this courtyard until he does.

"She's a model." He mumbles, unable to maintain eye contact with me. "I met her through a friend."

"And?" I press. I want him to say it.

"I invited her as a guest to tonight's show." He shifts his weight onto the other foot.

"And?" Just say it, Harry, for both our sakes.

His eyes flash to my face; wide and glassy. He shakes his head. "Juni, no. Please just let me explain-"

"You're seeing each other, aren't you? And you've been seeing each other since way before Melbourne."

He looks like he's been slapped and yet somehow, it doesn't make me feel any better.

"I-" For a moment I think he's going to deny it, and then he nods. "Yes. We've been seeing each other on and off for about a year."

It feels as though someone has dumped a bucket of ice over my head. A year? A whole three months of that time, we have been reunited. And yet he still didn't find a single time to mention it?

"And you didn't think it might be a good idea to let me know?" I'm raging now. My hands are shaking from where they are tucked under my armpits and my nostrils flare. Any second now, I think I'll reach boiling point. "Do you not remember our bus ride to Houston? Did you not think that would have been the perfect moment? Or maybe on the balcony when you told me you wanted this?"

"You have to understand-" he tries again, but I'm just not having it.

"No, you have to understand." I bite back. "I love you, Harry."

His eyes grow impossibly wider and the colour drains from his face. I swallow the bile building in my throat and decide to just go for it, because quite honestly at this point - what more have I got to lose?

"Yeah. I love you, ok? And not as my penpal or my best friend. I love you. I think I've probably loved you since that first letter with your stupid kangaroo question and Pokémon fangirling." I'm pointing my left finger at him angrily now; jabbing it in the air as if there's a chance he might feel it against the gold encrusted lapels of his jacket. "And if you love me, well-" my voice breaks. "You wouldn't have set me up for this fall."

The resounding silence is deafening. I'm pretty sure that this is the part where Harry is supposed to tell me that he loves me too - and then he'll sweep me into his arms and we'll live happily ever after. Except, it doesn't happen. He just remains rooted to the spot - his facial expression still frozen from when I made my big declaration. His eyes are like saucers and the tips of his front teeth are just visible beneath his upper lip. I've kissed that lip.

"Have I got it all wrong, Harry?" I press; just about holding onto the last stitch that, if broken, will most certainly cause me to crumble in front of him. "Did taking a risk with me mean something a little different to you?"

Nothing. Not even a blink. The stitch frays.

"What you did before Melbourne is your business." I ramble, not even sure why I'm still bothering. "But if you were seeing Camille," I swallow before bouncing my finger between the two of us. The Brit and the Berry. "Then this should never have been allowed to happen."

My ears burn at the continued lack of reciprocation.

"And I guess what I'm trying to say is - I thought you were better than that." I'm really hanging on by a thread now. I can feel the bitter sting of tears at the back of my eyes and I lower my shaking hand. "I guess I wasn't your Juni after all."

Something in Harry seems to snap, because as soon as I've said the words - his face contorts into an expression of pure horror. He stumbles forward, hands raised in front of him and a choked sob escapes his mouth. "No, no!" He shakes his head frantically. "You are my Juni. You always have been. I've just had such an amazing time with you and I got so caught up in it and it became more and I just forgot. I forgot about her - Camille."

If Harry thinks this is the speech that's going to make everything better, then he's sorely mistaken. I almost want to ask him when exactly he believes it was that he suddenly became entitled to mess with other people's feelings - or even why? What happened to my sweet friend with the good heart who was willing to do anything to make it up to me?

I stalk past him, the disbelief evident on my face, and only stop in the doorway to deliver my parting blow. "Just like you forgot about me eight years ago, right?"

author's note: You just keep digging that hole, Harry...