From The Dining Table [H.S]

Love You Goodbye

I know there's nothing I can do to change it

But is it something that can be negotiated?

My heart's already breaking, baby, go on, twist the knife

***

A/N I think this song would match this chapter really well sung from Harry's POV. Listen if you want x

Primrose's POV:

"We shouldn't of done what we did last night." I yawn, sitting up in the bed.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy it." Harry smirks, walking into the bathroom.

"Never said I didn't. But, we are supposed to be on a break." I reason, looking around the room from the bed for my clothes. They were thrown everywhere. My bra was hanging from the curtain pole, my tshirt on the table in the corner, my jeans by the door to his wardrobe. My pants... under the pillow?

Harry pokes his head round the doorway, his toothbrush hanging from his mouth. "Technically we were and are still together, so we were allowed to have sex. You said 'as soon as you step foot out this door tomorrow' and I haven't left the door yet."

"Why are my underwear under the pillow?" I question, pulling them under the duvet and slipping them on. Harry shrugs his shoulders, before vanishing back into the bathroom. Looking over at the clock on the bedside table, I rubbed my eyes to read the time clearly. 4:06am.

Harry was leaving today.

I think he tried to be quiet this morning, because I woke up to him in the shower. He said he was going to wake me before he left at 5, but I wanted to be awake for him incase he needed me whilst getting ready, so I stayed up.

He told me I could leave to go home at any time in the day, or could stay in the house for as long as I wanted. I'm debating bringing Angel here, as he would throw a frenzy about being in Harry Styles' house. Out of respect, I'm not going to do that, however I'm in no rush to leave today, so I think I'll go back to sleep for a few hours, make myself breakfast, shower, then leave at like 11.

There's no awkwardness between Harry and I considering the rough day we had yesterday, and I'm not about to bring that back up. Yet, I am going to check if Harry's okay, because I would hate for him to leave for months with bad feelings towards me.

"Do you need me to do anything?" I shout to the bathroom. "Shall I make you a tea?"

"Please!" Harry shouts back.

As I go to put on my clothes from my suitcase, Harry runs out the bathroom and picks up one of his jumpers from his unpacked luggage and tosses it to me. "Wear it." He says simply. "So it will smell like you when I take it on tour."

Smiling whimsically, I throw the hoodie on, rolling the sleeves and pulling the hood over my bed hair. Harry vanished into the bathroom, and I made my way downstairs. Whilst the kettle boiled, it hit me all at once, like a wave crashing on the seabed, or like a ball striking against a bat, that Harry was genuinely leaving.

My hands trembled as I poured the water into the mugs, the hot steam rising and mixing with the tears glossing my eyes. All I could hear was my mind screaming at me to not cry, to not get upset, to not show Harry I'm sad because then he would get sad. I need to be strong, but it's getting hard. How could it not? Harry and I constantly argue and then make up, and then argue to then just make up 5 seconds later. I know that's what all couples do, but arguing to our magnitude, then making up and quickly as we do isn't natural.