Songs:
More Than Words: Extreme
I Heard It Through The Grapevine: Marvin Gaye
California King Bed/ Fading: Rihanna
What Do You Mean?- Acoustic: Justin Bieber
A.J.'s POV
I woke up with a slight headache, annoyed with the sunlight that leaked through the damn curtains. God, I hated hangovers. I laid there for a few moments, taking in my surroundings, reminding myself that I wasn't home, reminding myself of why I wasn't.
I groaned, sitting up straight in bed, ignoring the headache as I got out of bed, quickly making it before heading out. I stumbled slightly, rubbing my head as I made my way to the kitchen.
"Morning, love," a cheerful voice rang through my ears.
"Eww, you're so loud," I complained.
He chuckled, raising his mug and a pot of coffee, silently asking if I wanted some. I nodded, taking a seat on one of the stools at the island. He took the seat next to me, handing me a mug full of coffee and aspirin while he sipped his.
"How'd you sleep," his voice boomed.
I made a face, shoving him away. "How the hell are you so cheerful? Aren't you hungover or something?" I took both pills, allowing the coffee to help them ease down.
He laughed, loudly, shaking his head. "I'm used to it, plus, I didn't have too much to drink last night so I'm fine."
I groaned. "I need to get home."
"Are you sure you're ready for that?"
I shrugged, not wanting to deal with anything to do with, Harry. I took a long sip of coffee, trying to drown out everything, Louis was saying, that fucking jabber mouth. He went on and on about breakfast and other crap, I just waved him off, letting him do whatever he wanted.
"I should really get going," I mumbled as I chewed on my toast.
He nodded with a little shrug. "Probably, I can drive you if you'd like?"
"I'll be fine," I assured him. "I'll uh, bring, Lottie's clothes back after I wash them and stuff," I got up from the stool, putting our dirty dishes in the sink.
"It's fine, she won't even notice they're gone," he smiled. "Here, take my sweater, it's a bit cold this morning," he shrugged off his sweater, handing it over to me.
I hesitated in taking it, but he just shoved it in my hands. I rolled my eyes at him, offering him a quick thank you before I put it on. "It stinks," I complained, inhaling the distinct smell of cigarette.
"You're so prissy," he scoffed.
"Am not, I just don't like the smell of cigarette."
"You're lucky I like you, Sloan, otherwise I'd send your ass out in the cold without a fucking sweater."
"No you wouldn't, you're too nice."
"Yes, I am a saint."
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to comment on his misrepresentation of himself. I left him to gather my things and made my way back to him. I thanked him for everything, again before he handed me my keys and I took off.
I didn't want to go home, but I knew I had to sooner or later. I still didn't know what I was going to say to, Harry or how I was going to deal with this situation. Honestly, I sort of doubted that he was even home. If he decided to show up last night, he probably left early this morning to avoid having to deal with me.
All I did know for sure was that if I didn't handle this now, he was going to continue to act this way and we were never going to get out of this slump. Sure, this wasn't the healthiest of relationships and the best thing for us both was probably to head our separate ways, or at least, as, Louis suggested, take a break. But, like I said last night, I was not strong enough to do something like that.
After a half an hour drive from, Louis' house to mine, I was finally at my front gate. I stood there for a good, solid ten minutes, just contemplating my next move. I knew I had to go inside, but the problem was, what to do once I did.
Without coming up with any sort of plan, I opened the gate and rode in, parking my bike next to, Harry's Range Rover. At least I knew he was home. I took a deep breath, removing my helmet and settling it on the seat as I grabbed my clothes from last night and purse.
Landon and Pete both greeted me, offering me a good morning, accompanied by a sympathetic look. How pathetic I must seem to them, to everyone, really. I insisted that I was fine and made them take the rest of the day off. I doubted, Harry, nor I were going anywhere and if we did, he was more than capable to drive himself and I could always take my bike.
It took them a little convincing, but they both eventually got into their own cars and headed out. I waited until both cars were out of the driveway and passed the gate before I finally opened the front door and let myself in.
The music I had left on last night was still playing. Harry probably came home and went straight to bed. He was probably still asleep, if he did go out drinking last night, which I knew was the most likely thing for him to do, he was definitely hungover and not going to get out of bed at this ungodly hour. Even I wondered what the hell I was doing up this early.
I set my clothes and purse on the small round table in the foyer, resting both hands on it as I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself, once more, for the terrible morning I knew I was going to be in for. I don't know how to explain it, but I had this bad feeling about today. It felt like all of this was about to go from shitty to worse. If that was even possible.
Just as I felt his presence, I heard his voice. "Good morning," Harry greeted.
I looked around me, startled by his slender, yet large figure sitting on the couch, his phone clutched between his hands.
My eyes stayed fixed on him for a long moment, my brain not able to comprehend what the hell was going on. Not only was, Harry home, but he was also awake, and speaking to me nonetheless. Things just started to feel even more off.
"What are you doing home?" I found myself asking, ignoring his greeting, the word, "home", feeling foreign.
"Where were you?" He ignored my question, answering with one of his own.
I scoffed, not believing the nerve he had to ask me that after he was the one who stood me up after he specifically told me he was going to change and he was going to show me with his actions and, God knows what other bull shit he spat. I made my way into the living room, turning off the music and removing the iPod from the dock.
"I asked you a question," his voice got louder.
The blood in my body boiled and I wanted nothing more than to turn around and slap him, but I contained myself. I turned around, surprised that he wasn't on the couch anymore, but on his way to me. "I don't have to answer you," I almost yelled.
"The hell you don't," he on the other hand didn't contain his need to yell.
His hands gripped my elbows, pulling me closer to him. I stayed still for a moment, not sure as to what was going on. It wasn't clear in my head, but I was pretty sure I should be feeling threatened right about now. Though I knew, Harry would never lay a finger on me, my instincts kicked in and I shoved him away, just in case I was wrong.
"I went out," I informed him, not caring anymore. "I was supposed to be home, having dinner with my boyfriend, but I was stood up because he obviously had better things to do," I fired. "So, when, Samara called to invite, us, to Chris' party, I didn't hesitate to accept, I had nothing better to do anyway. And yes, I had a few drink and I had fun."
"Who were you with after? Who did you go home with?" Even though he didn't say it, I know exactly what he was insinuating. "Did you cheat on me, huh?" And there it was.
"I'm not going to tell you that," I kept cool, a smirk taking over. I knew it was wrong, but this was my little idea of revenge.
"Tell, me," he yelled. "Tell, me or I'll go insane."
"And why should I do that, huh?" I shook my head, a small chucked leaving me. "Why the hell should you get peace of mind while I have to sit here day in and day out losing mine. No," I decided.
"You were with, Louis, huh? I can tell," he looked me up and down, taking the sweater in his hands, tightening his grip around it. "Did you sleep with him?"
Unable to control anger, or myself, I rose my hand, swinging it until it collided, hard, with his cheek, burning my hand. As soon as my skin touched his, I regretted it. I didn't want to slap him, I honestly don't know what came over me, but it felt so good.
"Madison," I began, anger evident in my hardened voice. "Lily. Alice. Amanda. Monica. Angel. Mercedes. Bethany. And let's not forget, Kendall, should I continue, because there are so many more."
"What the hell are you talking about?" He shouted, still rubbing his cheek.
"Every single girl that has given me a reason to question our relationship, but I never have, because I trust you, like a fucking idiot, I trust that you still love me, even just a little, to respect me and not cheat on me," I shouted. "I have, like an idiot, stuck by you through every single one of them, never questioning you, not even in our darkest moments, so how dare you think, even for one second that I would do something like that to you. And with your best friend for crying out loud.
Louis had been nothing, but an amazing friend to me. And the fact that you still question that friendship, your friendship with him and our own relationship, proves that you do not love me the way you claimed you did."
"That's the biggest load of crap and you know that. Of course I love you, you know that," he shook his head in disbelief.
"Do I, Harry?" I questioned.
"You should."
"How? How should I know?" I pressed. "By all the late nights you put me through, wondering where you are, wondering if you are okay, praying that you are safe and not in some fucking ditch somewhere? Or should I know by all the emotionless sex we have? No, I know, I should just know you love me because I feel it every night when we're laying in the same fucking bed, five feet apart," I yelled the last part. "I'm sorry, I must have misread the signals you were putting out there."
I stared at him, waiting for some sort of response from him, but I got nothing. I scoffed, turning around to head to the kitchen, but was stopped by his deep, raspy voice.
"You don't know what it's like," he began, making me turn back around to face him, unable to believe my ears. "I had to deal with losing-"
"I don't know how it feels?" I questioned him, skeptically, making sure what I heard was real.
"No," he shook his head, his eyes welling with tears.
I scoffed, breathlessly before I began laughing, almost hysterically. "Sloane was my baby, too," I finally spoke. "She was inside of me, she was part of me, she and I were one," tears of my own began to form. "She was my everything, if losing her, hurt anyone, it was me. You didn't feel her move, you didn't feel her when she was happy or upset, you didn't get the morning sickness or have your bladder pushed on. YOU DIDN'T FEEL HOW EXCITED SHE GOT WHEN YOU TALKED TO HER," I shouted at the top of my lungs. "You didn't feel the emptiness I felt when she was gone. You didn't feel your heart and life become hollow and meaningless the moment she was no longer part of you. And you didn't feel your partner turn their back on you for a momentary lapse of judgement, because you were scared," I finished, turning back around, not bothering with getting anything as I ran up the stairs.
It didn't take long for me to hear a pair of feet trudging after me.
I sped up my pace, not wanting to be near him. I had just admitted my vulnerability to him, and for some reason, I felt completely exposed and icky. I no longer felt safe around him and that scared me. Since the very day I met him, I was an open book to him. I was able to freely tell him anything that I couldn't easily tell even my best friends, somehow knowing I could trust him.
Now, it felt like I had just told a complete stranger my largest secret and I was afraid that he would use that against me. Use my weakness and exploit it. It was so stupid, but I couldn't help feeling like this. And that only made me doubt our love. I never have before, never, no matter what crap we were going through, every time the thought crossed my mind, I quickly pushed it away, knowing that no way, Harry and I were not in complete love with each other. For the first time, I was doubting if I even loved him anymore, if he loved me.
I was too distracted by my thoughts that I didn't notice, Harry's boots in the middle of the hallway until I tripped over them, falling face first on the ground. I stayed there for a moment, taking deep breaths to calm myself down.
"Katarina, are you okay?" He had the nerve to ask, grabbing me by my hips just as I was getting myself up.
I shoved him away, getting up all on my own. I didn't want to hear him, let alone have him put his hands on me. "Don't touch me," I warned, vocally, just in case my hints weren't clear enough.
"Don't be like that, baby," he sighed.
"Don't call me that either," I warned, again.
I stood up, dusting myself off, kicking his shoes off to the side to avoid another accident.
"Katarina, talk to me," his voice was much softer than it had been earlier.
"I don't want to," I annoyed myself by my childish tone.
His hands grabbed my arms, pulling me close to him. "Please, I need to know," he pleaded with nothing more a whisper.
I looked into his red eyes, evidence of tears under them, running down his cheeks. He, for the first time in a long time looked, vulnerable. Part of me wanted to give into him, give him the peace of mind he so, clearly desperately needed. But, all I could think about was how many nights I lacked that same peace he was begging for.
"No," I whispered back, moving my arms out of his hands. "If you don't know me well enough, and you need a verbal confirmation, you, we aren't worth it."
The sadness in his eyes transformed into anger. His nostrils flared and his breathing escalated. I knew whatever was going to happen next was not going to be something good.
As if everything were moving in slow motion, his hand went flying up, swinging forward and colliding with the wall only a few inches away from my head.
I didn't flinch, but I moved my head back a little, not quite understanding what the hell just happened. I looked at him, watching as his expression changed from anger, to confusion, to realization, to shock.
Never in a million years would I have ever thought this would happen. No, he did not physically hurt me, but I wasn't sure if the intention was there. He stepped back from me until his back was against the opposite wall. We both stayed there just staring at each other for, God knows how long until I regained my senses.
It took me another minute, but I finally pushed myself off the wall, walking down the hallway and down the stairs. I vaguely heard him behind me, calling out for me, but my mind refused to register any of it. I grabbed my purse off the table I had left it on when I got home along with my keys before I headed back out the door. I didn't know where I was going exactly, but I didn't really care, the only thing I did know for certain was that I didn't want to be here.