From The Dining Table [H.S]

May 12th

Woke up alone in this hotel room
Played with myself, where were you?
Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon
I've never felt less cool

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A/N: Thankyou so much for 8k reads!!

IM REWRITING THIS CHAPTER TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!

Primrose's POV:

"Primrose! It's almost time!" Angel yelled, running over to the couch with a bowl of popcorn. Jumping on and crossing his legs, Angel watched me excitedly as I dragged myself to the sofa.

"Mmmmmm why do I have to do this?" I groan, falling down next to him.

"Because, you promised me we could listen to it together." Angel said, pulling the blanket from over my head to rest on my lap. "Have you showered today?"

"No." I say, redoing the awfully greasy bun in my hair.

"When was the last time?" He asks, looking me up and down.

"What day is it?" I yawn, rubbing my eyes roughly.

Angel sighed to himself, before standing up and dragging me up with him. "Primrose... I know you're going through a hard time right now, but you need to shower - restore the self love. Harry isn't going to come back if you mope around in your apartment all day. It's time to move on. And if you don't want to move on, it's time to suck it up. You can only call him so much, and you can only wait so much. I don't know what the future holds for you and Harry, but what I do know, is that you need to shower, you need to get changed, you need to eat proper food, and you need to do it all in under 7 minutes so we can listen to the album together!" He smiles, pushing me supportively towards my shower.

"Angel, I don't want to shower. I don't even want to listen to this album." I huff, pulling my hair down and brushing out the knots. "But... I promised you. So it's only fair."

Angel claps happily, before leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

"7 minutes to shower." I mock Angels tone - turning on the shower and taking off my clothes.

I didn't want to listen to this album. I didn't want to listen to it at all. It was the last thing on my mind. Well... Harry wasn't the last thing on my mind. He was the first. The only. The one constant I'd had through these last 5 days of tears, alcohol and takeaways.

I'd promised Angel a few weeks ago that I'd listen to the album with him. Given, at that point, I was ecstatic to listen to Harry sing. I've watched him work so hard over the last few months: I couldn't wait to see it all pay off. But now...

... now I'm just like any other girl, sitting down with their friends, nervously waiting for the album to drop. I wasn't excited nervous. I was nervous nervous. I'm about to be sick, nervous. Oh my god I want to die, nervous. And, to be honest, I don't particularly know why.

Shoving on some joggers and the biggest jumpers I owned, I met Angel in the lounge again.

"Just in time!" He says, shuffling over to make space for me.

"Woo." I force out, giving a small, weak jazz hand.

"Primmy..." Angel wraps his arms around my shoulders. "Please try and lighten up. Being grumpy all the time won't make you feel better."

"Sorry." I mumble, nuzzling into his chest. "How much longer."

"36 seconds."

35 seconds. 34 seconds. 33 seconds. 32 seconds away from my life changing forever. 30 seconds away from hearing Harry's voice again, for an hour straight. 25 seconds away from having my heart torn from my chest in a series of deeply emotional songs, written by a man who's secret vulnerability which he expresses through songs, is the forefront of his insecurities. 15 seconds away from the whole world changing forever in the best way possible, and my world changing for the worst way possible, sending me into a spiral of sadness and loneliness.
5...