A/N. Hello! Quick little note. I wanted to apologise for not adding any trigger warnings regarding anxiety where it's needed. I always aim to before publishing but forget and that's not ok. In general, I've been quite relaxed about adding content warnings to do with smut and whatnot as it's in the author's note. I have for other themes earlier in the book when it was needed. No one has had an issue with this- (I hope. If you have, I'm so sorry, and please message me if you need to!) But I hate to think that someone does not view this book or my account as a safe space for not adding that trigger warning. I'm here always. x
There are mentions of anxiety in this chapter, it's a running theme in this book and I'll be going back to add TWs just so that this is a safe space for everyone. Love you all, enjoy!
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You never thought the little heaven on your bedroom ceiling would remind you of something you'd lost.
Galleries in Venice, heavenly devotions, and the otherworldly painting that had been gifted to you. He made you laugh under that heaven. He kissed you, told you he loved you under that heaven. Now all you felt was your soul plummeting back down to Earth at the loss of him.
You knew Harry. He was an old soul. You knew how he liked rainy days for writing, how he liked showers in the early morning, he loved romantic films. You knew how he felt about his fame, how his brain ticked to write as marvelously as he did. He was open and honest and warm. He was terrified of letting people around him down. He was endlessly selfless and endlessly hard on himself. You knew him.
But this side of Harry... you didn't know.
He was so distant from you. Retracting as much as he could while you picked up the crumbs of your relationship that he left in his trail.
He barely called you cherry anymore. Had he gotten sick of the colour?
You were swaddled up in your bed, your face wet with tears. You'd left your celebration with your friends after two measly hours. It was late, if you had to guess, maybe one or two in the morning. The last thing on your mind was sleep. You were swimming in despair and confusion. He promised he would show up but he was nowhere to be seen.
You had started so many texts to him. But overall, the fact that he hadn't even attempted to contact you made you delete every attempt. You were exhausted and in pain. You'd reached out all you could and it still wasn't enough.
Harry paced outside of your apartment for a while. He was sure you were home, a tell-tale golden ambiance emitting a soft glow in your bedroom window. But the soul inside had dimmed drastically and it was all his fault. He was riddled with fear and mourning his happier self. He fucked up. He fucked up so bad and he didn't think he had a bandage big enough to cover this wound.
Small purple flowers in meadows, dancing in the streets of Montmartre, rainy days, shared cups of tea. Getting high, listening to vinyl, making love under the heaven in your bedroom. Was it all a memory?
Cherry. Petal. Angel. The best thing that had ever happened to him was you and the connection you had built together.
He had singlehandedly destroyed it and he was fucking devastated.
He twirled the spare key for your apartment in between his fingers. He still remembered the night you gave it to him. How it felt like a kick in the chest. How you did it for him, a place for him to escape to even if you weren't there. While he often did go to your home to get away from it all, he didn't feel welcome being there now.
Regardless, his girl was in pain because of him. He paced outside your door for a minute or two. His hands were shaking, his throat tight with words he was preparing to push out. He unlocked the door quietly, trying to shelf his heartbreak so he could try and mend yours.
Your apartment felt different now. He knew it like the back of his hand but the walls surrounding him were coated with layers of judgment and hurt and guilt. Unfamiliar sensations when it came to you.
When three soft knocks sounded on your closed bedroom door, you wiped away tears that hadn't stopped falling and sat up in bed. You held the covers up to your chin and blinked blearily at the door. Of course, it was him. No one else had a key. Your tummy rolled and flipped at the fact that he had finally shown up. Finally presented himself to you after ripping your heart from your chest.
"Come in." You called out. Your voice was unstable but it didn't hold a candle to the lack of stability in your heart.
Harry was slow to enter. He was sure he looked like a wreck. And in some sick way, it soothed you to know he was hurting just like you were. His eyes were red from crying, much like yours. And as two pairs of eyes met they were glistening with tears all over again.
He was dressed like you; comfortable clothing as if to cushion the bruised soul within. And as he slipped into your room and stood at the foot of the bed, he suddenly didn't know what to say. Seeing you again, seeing how beautiful and fucking brilliant and healing you were for him.
It shattered him. How did he continuously put you in harm's way? Why did you take the hits of his own shit that he needed to work through?
And, in true form, you were the one to put your fears aside and speak first.
"You didn't come."
A statement, of course. A statement of what a shitty boyfriend he had been. Not even just a boyfriend, but a friend. An ally. A decent human being that he always strived to be. You'd opened up to him, asked him to join you in celebrating a massive achievement in your career. And he didn't come.
When he didn't say anything, you pressed on. "Why didn't you come?"
"I'm so sorry, I've been shit. I was going to come, I wanted to be there with you but I got bad again. I just couldn't shake this... this guilt. I love you, I'm so in love with you but I keep hurting you and dragging you into my anxiety... I just... I don't know how to do this."
He broke down. He knew that he didn't deserve to. That he was being selfish. He was honestly just so angry at himself that he couldn't hold it back anymore. He had hurt you and here he was crying. And to make matters worse, you comforted him. Like always.
You pulled him to sit down on the edge of the bed, sitting beside him and rubbing his back. He hid his face behind his hands while he tried to calm himself down. But you could feel his tears, small sobs that rocked his frame. It made you cry harder, seeing him in pain. You let the tears fall, too exhausted to stop them anymore.
How could something so good become what once was?
He was everything to you. You could handle the hatred from his fans, jealous exes, people taking photos of you and making assumptions about you. Selling false headlines to fill their pockets with profit. But you couldn't handle it when he became so closed off and worked up.
"I don't know what you expect me to do." You sniffled. "I try to push past all of this. Past the hate and the scrutiny everyone has for us but fuck, Harry. I can't push past this. I reached out to you and I know you're going through shit but I'm so fucking hurt that you shut me out again."
Harry took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down so he could console you but he could feel his chest caving in on him.
"I fucked up so bad." He whispered. "Tell me what to do. Tell me how I can fix this."
You sighed shakily, falling onto your back and staring at the heaven above you. He joined you and you felt how much you missed him so intensely at that moment. A refuge where your relationship had become so much more, now was reduced to two destroyed souls on a bed that didn't know how to live apart.
"I don't know." You were defeated and drained. "This is so much more than tonight, you know that, don't you?"
He did. He felt so much guilt over not just tonight, but the many other times he let his anxiety leak in between you and fester like a poison.
He swallowed. "I know."
You remembered the last time you were in this position with him. Laid out in a meadow and so blissfully in love. How he'd been so raw and lovely. "You told me that every thought you had was about me. Do you remember that?" He gave you a slow nod but stayed silent, so you continued. "And I told you that you were all of mine, too. That hasn't changed but now... now it just hurts."
"I've been so terrified for us and our future and I don't know what to do. I'm not doing well protecting you. I thought I was doing good but everything that my job entails ruins it."
"Because you let it." You were getting angry now. It was like he had accepted that he was doomed. That it would always be like this. "I know it's not easy. I know you deserve privacy, you fucking do. But when I said there was nothing stronger than us, I meant it. I meant it when I first met you, and I meant it after I had coffee thrown at me. When your jealous ex came after me. When your fans came to my work. It never crossed my mind once that you're not worth going through any of that because you are. And I do go through it but at the end of the day, I still have you and there's nothing stronger than that."
He blinked and winced when tears fell from the corners of his eyes. The painting mirrored how his mind used to be with you. Fluffy and dreamy and soft. Simple, angelic. Now it was a complex setting where nothing was familiar or warm to him. Dark and cold and alien.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry." His voice was thick with tears. "The last thing I want is for you to feel like I'm giving up or letting that shit win. I know I'm worth loving but I lose sight of that a lot. You've made me believe it but you shouldn't have to burden any form of hate just to be with me, it's not fucking right."
"But I just told you it doesn't matter, Harry. Don't you get it? You're the only one who can push me away."
"And I keep hurting you."
"It's not on purpose-"
"Which is worse! I don't know how to stop this. My life is nonstop and you have no idea how petrified I am. I want everything with you. I want us to have a future and I want the concept of that to be enough-"
"What is it about us that isn't enough?"
That stopped him dead in his tracks because he fully realised what he had said. Not only his words, but his actions were making you feel like you weren't enough. You'd shoulder your own anxiety so that his could have center stage.
You got abused and bullied but you soldiered through. You were selfless and understanding and just so fucking good. And here he was, saying something wasn't enough.
"No, no." He backtracked, suddenly very panicked. He sat up, bringing you with him and cupping your face in his hands. He wiped your tears with his thumbs but more fell to replace them. "You are perfect. You are everything to me, please don't ever think that you're not. You are more than I could ever ask for and it's my fault for not telling you that as much as I should."
"I know I can't cure your anxiety, I know I can't make your job less crazy. But I'm your partner, I should be able to make it easier, at least. I feel like I'm failing you."
"You're not failing me, please-" He couldn't fucking take it. He pulled you into his chest, beyond distraught. "You help me so much by simply existing. This is all because of me. You're perfect, you're so golden, this is all on me."
For the first time, your anxiety-ridden soul was on the front line. Seeping anguish and despair into the room while he tried to reason with it. He was always so calming and soothing and loving. But for the first time, it wasn't working.
You couldn't breathe. You'd been slowly suffocating all this time, suffering in silence while he was in his own head. Tonight had been an aggressive squeeze around your chest, burning as you willed air into your body and you were starting to freak out.
Your tears came harder, your sobs wrecking you. Shredding a hole in Harry's already eroding heart.
"Stop." You cried. "Stop saying how much I help you when I clearly don't do shit for you."
"This is me-"
"Yes, Harry. It's you. It's your world and your job and your insecurities. But it's me, too. I obviously don't alleviate any of it for you. I have to try harder."
Harry gestured to his head. "What's happening in here is not your responsibility. It's not your fault. Okay? This is shit I've been dealing with for a long time and the fact that I could ruin the best part of my life," He cupped your cheek. "because of my own mental shit ... it fucking shreds me apart. I don't want it to get in the way but it just happens and I can't control it."
You buried your head in your hands, so distraught and trying to reel in your pain but it soared deep and burrowed into your bones. The two of you felt like you were wandering in a circle. Dizzy and lost, only focused on each other but not knowing how to reach each other properly.
"I want so much more in life with you, we have to keep trying because I won't accept anything else."
"How could you want a future with someone like me?" He couldn't wrap his head around it at this point. The disgust he had for himself and how he was handling this was destroying him. He wanted a life with you. So bad. But he hardly felt deserving of it.
"Are you serious?" There was a wave of annoyance that you didn't even bother trying to hide. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to hear you ask that? What, have we just been spending months upon months building this just to watch it end?"
"N-No, of course not-"
"Of course I want that with you. There isn't one day that goes by where I don't think about it."
"Fuck, even with my self-doubt driving a wedge between us? I'm so scared of fucking this up-"
"You want me to be honest with you, Harry? You are. You let every little thing get to you and you act like it's doomsday. You don't let us try and fix it first. You overthink and you shut me out. You don't come to me until you're spiraling and I have to comfort you. And I tell you every time that all we can do is try. But you never learn, because then another thing comes along and we stay in this endless cycle. I'm exhausted."
Harry took a deep breath at your outburst. You were always honest with him. It was one of the countless things he loved about you.
But you were hardly ever this brutal about it. Your tone was backed with a harsh bite that snapped. But he needed to hear it.
It was different this time. Like you had shed your soft skin and traded it in for something a little harder. Maybe your shell had adapted to handle him. Grown into armour to absorb the blows from his anxiety. He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't know how to handle his anxiety. He didn't know how to handle yours.
"I know, I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say. His brain was eroding him and his relationship. He felt so lost. So drained. "I don't know what to do, I know it's easy to say we can try but everything is so unpredictable right now. I just... I don't deserve you. I feel like I've fucked up too much-"
"Don't start with this defeatist shit, Harry. I won't hear it. If there wasn't a chance of redemption we'd be having a completely different conversation right now."
"Okay, so what? We keep on with this cycle? We make up just for this to happen again? Something else will trip us up and I'll close myself off. It's how I cope with it, it's an instinct. You're tired of me, I can tell."
Your tears fell hot and rapidly, your chest burning with pain because you wanted him so bad. You wanted him and you wanted him to cope in a way that was healthier for him.
"No relationship is perfect or easy." You sniffled. "We all have hardships, we just have to power through and keep supporting each other."
"No, it's not easy. But you're not supposed to make your partner doubt themselves. I'm too busy dealing with my shit that you're thinking you don't do enough in this relationship."
You felt like you couldn't win. You really did. Like all you could do was fight for him and offer solutions that he shot down. He thought he was a lost cause.
"Then what the fuck are we doing? I try to keep positive and you won't even give me an inch. It sounds like you've accepted what this is and aren't willing to try and change it."
He was so stuck. He knew what he wanted he just didn't know how to get there. His life was so up in the air and he couldn't find solid ground to keep him stable. You were trying so hard but he just couldn't get past his mindset.
He dropped his head forward. "I don't know what we're doing, I really don't."
And finally, you were on the same page.
"I don't know either."
And finally, Harry watched you break down. Fully. Painfully. He wanted to comfort you. He wanted to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive him. He wanted to ensure you that he would change. That he would change, as if at the snap of ringed fingers if it were possible.
His hand reached out to touch you. Wanting to feel physically close to you because, in every other sense, you were miles apart.
"Please don't." You cried, pulling away from him. Your voice was so small and broken.
Something detached inside of him when you pulled away. Almost as if his touch burned you. It was quick, a snap. But the torrential aftermath of loss was something that could last for an eternity.
He looked at you. Your tears hadn't stopped. You wouldn't meet his eyes, your entire body angled away from him. As closed off as he became with you. He had done this. He had pushed you away, rendered you helpless against his own thoughts. Made you feel unworthy. Make you feel like you weren't enough.
"What can I do?"
You couldn't even find words to push past your sobs. He couldn't do anything. The defeat in your soul had finally reached you. And it fucking hurt. You didn't say anything, only shaking your head as you tried to reel in your emotions.
It was pointless. You tried your best to get him to hear you, but he wasn't listening. He was so stuck in his head that you couldn't get through to him.
And all he knew was that for you to heal, he had to be apart from you. He couldn't be here anymore. Not when you were both running in circles and getting nowhere. Not when you were clearly getting more and more upset with everything he was saying.
This had escalated so quickly. You'd purely wanted space, thinking it would help your relationship. But you'd missed him, brought him back to you only to have his rejection and more pain. Had you let him back in too soon? Or had what was so good already run its course? Hit the bottom of what seemed an endless void, leaving you both lost in the deep.
He had done enough, Harry decided. Dimmed the golden incandescence in your soul. Cherry hued dulled down to a pained burgundy.
There is nothing stronger than us.
Nothing, except his own mind and the spare key you'd gifted him left on the kitchen counter. The loss of the symbolism was heavy, and a vacant space in his pocket with its absence made him feel officially empty as he slipped from your apartment.
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I don't know why I keep doing this to them.
...Will I stop? Probably not.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I love you all so so much. How are you all? Come and have a chat! I'm on here and Twitter literally always. ANNNDDD thank you so much for the big 50K READS!!! I'm so thankful that we're on this journey together. I'm sad that it's almost over, but that means I can share my next one soon! x
I've got a chunk of the next chapter already written so I don't think it'll take me a million years to get it to you. Make sure you vote! Stay safe and drink plenty of water!
Kisses xx