TW/ / mentions of suicide
°°
Cause I'd rather go blind
Than let you down.
°°
Harry Styles
I've been watching Harlow get progressively more drunk for at least two hours now and each time I've sat next to she told me to go away, so I did because I really don't wanna annoy her more than I already have.
I've been watching her though and not even the alcohol seemed to bring a smile to her face. When somebody looked at her she'd smile at them so friendly and when she'd go up to the bar to get herself another drink she'd smile then too. Although when she sat down at her little table hidden in the corner, she painted the saddest picture ever.
"Harlow looks like she's having fun." Louis points out sarcastically.
I just rolled my eyes at him because his sarcastic remarks are the last thing I want to hear right now. I've already gotten enough shit for not doing coke with them, but why would I do coke when I have a girlfriend having a silent meltdown in the corner.
Girlfriend.
It sounds weird saying that, but I like it.
"I like Harlow," Niall adds, "she's like really-"
"Stop talking about her." I interrupt, scowling at him from across the table.
Everyone apart from Liam looked at each other smugly, Zayn even chanted out an 'oooh' but it soon turned into a yelp when I jolted my foot forward to kick him in the leg. That's what he gets for being annoying.
"Chill mate, nobody's stealing her from you." Louis chuckles.
"But if you give us the chance..." Zayn chips in, gaining a laugh from everyone but me, of course.
How come the second I know she's actually my girlfriend everyone keeps trying to flirt with her when she's not even here. They also did see her dead cat just over an hour ago, and clearly she isn't okay so I really don't think how's the best time to be making jokes like that.
Sighing, I stand up and I roll my eyes at their annoying remarks, "I'm leaving."
Now my task was trying to get Harlow to speak to me and then get her to come home with me. I'm not leaving here without her, even if she hates me but it's for her own benefit. If I leave her it'll be just my luck that Daniel decides to pay her a visit and I'm not letting any member of that gang step within a 50 metre radius of her.
She's still sitting at her small table alone in the corner, out of the way of the lights and the people at her club. The worst thing is that she looks so sad and fed up, yet keeps firing back alcohol like it's just one of her excessive cups of coffee.
She didn't realise I was standing opposite her until I sat down in the chair, much to her disappointment of course.
"Hi birdy." I smile across at her, prying the pint glass from her grip and holding it up to my nose to figure out what she's drinking.
Vodka.
Great.
She really is sad right now. Nobody drinks vodka straight out of a pint glass for two hours straight and to be honest, after the night she's had I don't blame her. Also, usually vodka makes you go wild, Harlow has sat with her head in her hands all night.
"Home time for us birdy, you drinking the last of this?" I ask her, to which she quickly grabs the glass and tips it back with no reaction at all.
Remind me to never do shots with her because she will fucking destroy me. Seems that birdy is a little drinking machine.
When I stood up and tried to get her to stand she just rolled her eyes at me and sank further into her seat. I felt my heart drop slightly, it really does hurt seeing someone who's nothing but a pure ray of sunshine feel so upset, and it hurts even more knowing there's nothing I can do that fixes this.
I pick up all the empty glasses on her table, needing both arms and hands to carry the many pint glasses up to the bar. Demi asked me if Harlow was okay to which I just asked 'what the fuck do you think?' Not once did Demi speak to Harlow, if she was so concerned she should've asked her herself because I'm sure Harlow would have appreciated it.
Harlow was sitting with her head in her hands by the time I got back to her and when I placed my hands over hers she finally lifted her head. Although I was met with bloodshot eyes and the most exhausted looking person I think I've ever seen.
And I don't mean exhausted from the lack of sleep either.
I hate seeing her like this, it hurts.
"C'mon you riot, we're getting a taxi." I tell her softly, trying my very hardest not to anger her.
I tried to pull her hands from under her chin but they didn't budge for a couple of seconds, but when they did there was a little smear of blood on her jaw which immediately panicked me.
I crouched down and wiped it away with my thumb, trying to figure out where it came from and at one point I genuinely thought she was spiked and it was coming from her mouth. Her refusal to open her mouth didn't help with my fear, however when I went to hold her hand I realised that she's actually just been digging her nails into her palms again.
It looks so painful and the fact she's actually managed to draw blood is actually quite concerning.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise I was doing that." She whispers, sounding completely and utterly defeated.
That whole 'never apologise' thing really is becoming my new catchphrase isn't it? Maybe I should get it tattooed on my forehead so she always knows not to say she's sorry. I've already got the bird tattoo, next will be never apologise, then it'll be a sunflower and it'll keep going until there's nothing left I can possibly attach to her.
The only reason I don't like her saying sorry to me is because of how much things I've done that have impacted her negatively. I should be apologising to her every second of the day. Nothing she ever does is with apologising for anyway, it's always when she's embarrassed and that really does pain me.
"It's okay, never apologise to me birdy, yeah?" I smile, "Let's get you home before you do any more damage to yourself."
I pulled her up by her wrists, not wanting to hold on to her hands because they look quite painful and I don't want to hurt her. Not anymore than I already have.
It took about fifteen minutes to actually make it to the taxi rank, Harlow didn't talk to me but she could barely stand up on her own so I had to assist her with walking. That was a task and a half because she's really stubborn and independent, she also probably hates me right now but fifteen minutes later we made it to the taxis.
I had to help her into the taxi and there was a group of guys waiting behind us who were quite clearly fascinated by Harlow, I don't blame them either but she's also my girlfriend. I stood behind her whilst she flopped in so they didn't get a glimpse of something they shouldn't have.
When I got round to the other side of the taxi Harlow made sure to keep her arms crossed and look at me with a pout of her face because she's obviously mad at me which is understandable. Although her expression was quick to change when I shouted my address forward to the driver.
"That's not my address." She whispers to me.
"You're coming to my house love, think it's-"
"I can't, I have to feed willow in the morning." Harlow interrupts, her voice sounding more hoarse due to her high level of alcohol consumption.
My stomach dropped and so did my heart. I'm so mad at Daniel for killing her fucking cat, that was sick. Her cat was more than a cat to her and that's what makes this so upsetting, because she loved that cat with her whole fucking heart and everyone she's ever loved has left her life.
It's no secret that she loved Owen and he treated her like shit. She loved her mum and her mum isn't here anymore. She loved her grandmother who isn't here anymore and now she's lost her cat.
Maybe one day she'll love me, because I'll never leave her.
I don't think her mum did leave her in the way she thinks she did. Clearly her mum had a lot going on behind the scenes and couldn't handle it anymore. It wasn't selfish, it was just the only way she could see out of it. That's why I care so much about Harlow, because Adriana committed suicide too and I can tell Harlow struggles a lot with her mental health.
If I knew Adriana was hurting maybe I wouldn't be without her right now.
I'd do anything to keep Harlow from getting to that point, anything.
Watching Harlow's face fall into the look of realisation was really heartbreaking, I really hate myself for bringing her into this.
"Sorry, forgot she was dead." She chuckles sarcastically. "Jealous, I wish I was dead."
I reach my hand across to her, not holding her hand because they look sore so I just held her thigh, stroking it with my thumb, "Stop that, you have too much to live for birdy."
"Yeah so did my mum." She fires back instantly, "She had everything I did, only I'm never gonna be able to even have kids. My mum was able to have a daughter and she still killed herself."
This time three months ago I didn't even think I had a heart but now that Harlow keeps unknowingly breaking it, I've realised I do have one after all. Not w big one apparently, one that only seems to beat for her but fuck, it hurts hearing her say those things.
I wish I could go back in time and make everything different, or I wish I could just somehow go back in time and take every ounce of pain she would feel and put it on myself. She doesn't deserve anything she's been through.
She's been through hell and back, and everyone knows her as the owner of Club Carnal who has the biggest heart and the friendliest smile. It just shows how big of a heart she has because no matter how much she's suffering, she always pushes it aside to make sure everyone else around her is happy.
The most heartbreaking part is I bet she'd make the best mother ever. She's so kind and caring, she's smart and she's beautiful so no doubt her children would be stunning. I can't imagine how that feels knowing she'll never get the chance to have a family, especially since she's all that's left to carry on her family name.
I know that she's drunk, but vodka is the best truth medicine so knowing she really feels this way is genuinely devastating.
The poor taxi man is probably gonna phone the nearest mental institute after this conversation.
"Harlow...baby, you have other things in life to look forward to, millions of reasons why you should stay on this earth." I say quietly.
"I actually only have 364 reasons." She says, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
I could give her a million.
"That's an awful precise number." I smile, trying to steer this away from the dark, sad conversation it's become.
"I have a reasons journal, I write reasons to stay alive in it." She slurs, resting her head against the window.
That's actually pretty wholesome, I feel like everyone should do that. It's genuinely really smart because whenever you're having a bad day you've got many reminders of why life is important. I actually really like that.
"Okay, give me some then." I say, however when I turn my head back to look at her she's got her eyes shut and I can tell she's fallen asleep.
It's probably better that she's asleep to be honest, stops her from saying anything she'll regret. Not that I don't want to listen, I'd listen to her speak all day everyday but I don't want her telling me things she wouldn't tell me sober.
I'm also glad she's fallen asleep instead of doing something completely ridiculous and wild. That's how I know she's hurt though, because not even the alcohol has been able to boost her spirits.
It wasn't long after that until we arrived back at mine and I was chucking the driver a £20 note. Harlows still sound asleep so that's my next task.
"Hey, sleeping beauty," I lean over, giving her a gentle shake, "we're home now."
Thankfully her eyes snap open and she gives the driver a smile before yawning at getting out the car on her own. She got out of the car too quickly and by the time I had made my way round to her side of the car she was sitting in a heap on the concrete.
"You okay?" I ask, crouching down and hooking my arms under hers to pull her back up onto her feet.
"What type of stupid question is that?" She scoffs, wobbling slightly as she stands.
I chuckle back, throwing her arm over my shoulder and holding mine round her waist, "my bad."
It's clear she's still mad at me, but she could be on the verge of trying not to murder m
We got in the door and I let her go for just two seconds, and in those two seconds she tumbled and bashed her back straight off the kitchen table. It sounded painful but her face was still completely emotionless.
"C'mon clumsy," I chuckle, wrapping an arm around her, "you okay, anything hurt?"
Harlow nodded and then rested her drunken head against my shoulder, hooking her arm around my waist which I didn't expect, especially right now.
"What's worst? Did you hurt yourself when you fell?" I ask her, to which she shakes her head, "Sore head? Sore throat? Talk to me love, tell me what's hurting?"
Harlow sniffles quietly, closing her eyes and wrapping her other arm around my front so her hands were linked on my hip. I thought she was mad at me but now she's literally hugging me...weird.
I'm so bad boyfriend stuff.
"My heart." She sighs.
Without hesitation I pulled her right into my chest, holding her so tightly because I really don't have a clue how to fix that pain in her heart. I want to though, I really want but I haven't got a fucking clue how.
On her forehead I place a gentle kiss and start running her back, desperately trying to prove I'm here for her.
After a minute or two I shuffle back with her still in my arms and when we reach the stairs I sit her down on the third one up from the ground. It doesn't look like she can sit up right so I lean her up against the wall and rush over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for her.
I crouch down in front of her and I slide her shoes off her feet for her because there's no way she was getting out of these heels in her current state, never mind climbing up a flight of stairs with them on.
When we made it upstairs I looked out an old sweatshirt for her and gave her a big green one I don't think I've worn in months. Greens her favourite colour so that's why I gave her that one.
"Don't watch me getting changed." She whispers, catching the jumper I threw at her.
She's really shy when it comes to this stuff, I've noticed that. The first time we did something sexual and she asked me to turn the light off she was embarrassed and that was really sad but it's nothing to be ashamed of. If that's how she's comfortable then great.
Perhaps one day she'll feel comfortable enough to let me appreciate her body in all it's glory but until that day, I'll do whatever makes her comfortable.
Two minutes later I turned round and Harlows awkwardly stood there drowning in that sweatshirt of mine. She looks adorable and I just wanna hug her forever...she's making me feel all weird.
I threw my shirt over my head and quickly slid the trousers down my legs whilst Harlow awkwardly stood there watching with puffy, bloodshot eyes and her thumb between her lips as she bites nervously at the skin around her nail.
What is it with her and hurting her hands?
"You okay birdy?" I ask her, knowing all too well that her answer is bound to be no but much to my surprise she nods her head.
She looks so lost.
Taking her by her wrist, not wanting to touch her sore hands I pull her into my bathroom and run her hands under the water. Then it seemed like her legs were about to give in so taking her to bed was all I really could do.
She laid there and started shivering which was scary, I thought she was dying but when I gave her a shake she just mumbled and told me that she was just cold, thankfully.
I climbed in next to her and pulled her close to try and stop her from shivering, but it didn't really help. So I took both her legs and placed them in between mine.
"I'm not actually mad at you." She whispers, shuffling forward and resting her head on my chest.
"You should be." I sigh, rubbing her back to warm her.
"I couldn't." Harlow mumbles in a defeated tone.
"How come birdy?" I ask.
"Parce que je t'aime."
I love when she speaks french, I'm always so mesmerised by it although I haven't got a fucking clue what she's saying. My french knowledge stretches no further than 'Bonjour, je m'appelle Harry'
"What does that mean?" I ask her, smiling at her coy expression because she knows I've got know clue what she just said.
Harlow shrugs her shoulders before shutting her eyes and letting herself relax in my arms.
I think birdy has provoked an emotion I didn't even have.
°°
If you don't know what the reach translates to, I'm sure google translate might come in handy:)
You guys remember those reasons in the middle of some Harlow POV chapters? Now we know what they were:)
Chapter 28 for example vvv