#it sounds like a breakup & i selfishly did NOT want to write it

[dynyamight]

bkdk … 12 ? ༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ

12. “I think we need to talk."

The moment Bakugou opened the gym doors, and smelled rain in the air, he knew he had to book it back to the dorms.

Slamming his feet on the pavement floor, he forces himself to run out. His muscles ache all over, and his arms barely want to stay up, pumping at his side. But, he rather try and make his way to his room dry, than have a downpour soak him to his bones.

By the time he reaches to the safe, dry front steps of the dorm building, the rain finally begins. Lightly, the drops splatter slowly to the ground.

Catching his breath, Bakugou stops by the rails, holding onto one side as his muscles cramp. His thighs are burning, and his arms want to fall off entirely. But, he let's his mind focus on the pain.

He's had a rough fucking week, and for once, his mind was elsewhere.

“It’s starting to rain now, isn’t it.”

Bakugou jolts, quickly facing up to that familiar voice. That voice that haunts his dreams, ingrained deep into his mind. That voice that makes his heart race just a little quicker. That voice, from the one and only.

That forgetful nerd.

“Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you.’ Midoriya says quickly, offering an apologetic smile. He’s sitting on the front porch, holding onto a book close to his chest. “You probably thought you were the only one out here, right?”

“..You don’t have to apologize.” He breathes out. Despite the haywire of his nerves, exploding his insides, the words roll off his tongue easily. It's oddly the same phrase he's used each time they've met. "S'not like you personally screwed me over."

"Ah, my bad—"

"What did I just say."

“I—" Midoriya weakly chuckles, shaking his curls. "I guess I can't help it. I promise I won't forget.”

No matter how many times Bakugou hears that, it always sounds so genuine, so real. Rather than an empty promise. "I'll hold you to it, Deku." He mutters, regardless.

"What does that—" A light shines through Midoriya's gaze, and immediately he smiles. "Wait, you know what. I swear that's not the first time someone has said that to me. Deku."

Chills run down Bakugou’s spine. That's never happened. He's never slipped up. Fuck. “..Really?”

“Yeah, it sounds so familiar. But, I don’t remember exactly where I've heard it before.”

Both disappointment and relief flood his whole entire body. He doesn’t know what he would do if Midoriya would remember all his terrible attempts, though a part of him did yearn for recognition.

However, maybe it was for the best. Give them a fresh start, every time. Fucking hip hip hurray.

Hell, maybe this was the world's way of sending him all the karma that he has built up. It decided to pick the one person he deeply cares about, and make both of them suffer.

Bakugou looks back at the book Midoriya held, something in his mind reminding him about one of the first talks since the incident. “Is that Catch-22?” Bakugou asks, pointing it out.

It takes a moment for the question to visibly register through Midoriya's brain. But, when it does, Bakugou can tell by the way Midoriya’s eyes widen and the wide grin on his face that grows, “You've read it?”

“Nah, just heard about it. A lot.” He doesn’t need to explain himself further.

Leaving his seat off the bench, Midoriya rushes up to Bakugou’s face, eagerly leaning in. “I highly recommend it! It’s a literature masterpiece, the best of its genre!”

For a moment, Midoriya looks up to Bakugou’s gaze, eyes bright in interest. However, the next second, he looks away, with a feeble laugh as he scratches the side of his head nervously. “In my humble, personal opinion, of course..”

“What does it even mean?” Bakugou asks instead, holding tight to their conversation. He refuses to let it go for even a second. “Catch-22.”

“Oh. Uhh, the best way I can describe it,” Midoriya lifts his chin in thought. His gaze drifts up, as if he was wracking through his brain like it were a couple of shelves, “is that it's a dilemma from which someone cannot escape from, because of a set of contradictory rules.”

Bakugou scoffs. “Give an example. I’m too fucking tired to decipher whatever the fuck you just said.”

“Okay, okay!" Midoriya laughs, "It’s like job applications. How can you gain any experience for a job, unless you get a job that gives you experience?”

“Like, how in order to apply for a loan, you have to prove to the bank that you don’t need one?”

“Yes! Exactly that.”

“That shit has a name?”

“They’re hard to find, but even in everyday life, we can find ourselves in our own catch-22’s without realizing it! Isn’t that crazy? For all we know, life itself could be one!” Midoriya rambles, growing louder and louder, to the point Bakugou swears he can hear his voice echo.

Though, Bakugou doesn’t mind. This alone is possibly the most Midoriya has said to him, with all encounters combined.

Surprisingly, a blush forms over Midoriya’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean to babble on like that.”

“How do you get someone to remember you,” Bakugou starts, before he can stop himself from asking, “when they keep forgetting who you are every time?”

Midoriya stares.

Quickly, Bakugou coughs, “Ain't that a catch-22?”

For a small moment, all he can hear is the rain, pattering down the pavement around them. But, then, Midoriya hums, tilting his head, lips pursed. “Yeah, it most definitely is. Though, I've never heard of that one, before.”

"Yeah well," Bakugou shoves his sweating hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “That’s the fucking dumpster fire I’m in.”

“With all respect, does your person have medical reasons why they keep forgetting?” Midoriya asks slowly, immediate concern filling his expression.

“Not that I know of." Bakugou admits, "But, I wouldn’t put it past them. Or, they might be plain stupid.”

“That's rude!" However, the accusation sounds fairly weak, when Midoriya's chuckling.

He feels the corners of his lips upturning. "What's 'rude' is the damn bastard not remembering anything, other than random, trivial shit." Bakugou huffs. "Which changes, daily."

"And, you say nothing works? Not even telling them?"

"Yeah. 'Cause they'll fucking forget the next day."

"Have they ever wrote about you?”

Bakugou does a double take. When did Midoriya ever— “Wrote about me?”

Nodding, Midoriya gestures behind him, to the backpack beside the bench. “Personally, I've been using lots of sticky notes, planners, and journals to jot down things I need to remember.”

“Again, my memory's a bit distorted, so in order to tell my future self what I need to know, I write it out for me to read, the next day. Maybe that’ll work for your person?”

Writing. So that the next Midoriya can read it and remember. “..Would it work, if I wrote it?"

Midoriya furrows his brows. "I think it would be better if the person wrote it out for themselves. You know, so that it helps to jog their memory."

Suppressing the immediate heart drop he feels in the pit of his stomach, Bakugou exhales a big sigh. "There's a lot of shit the fucker needs to remember. His purpose. His quirk. His dream. Lots of important shit."

"Why not start with you?" Midoriya smiles, reassuringly. "They're bound to have a diary entry all about you."

Immediately, Bakugou's irked. "I ain't writing material."

"I think you are. Good writing material." Midoriya confesses, never letting that dopey, wobbly smile drop, "I don't know your name, but everything about you is unforgettable, to say the least. I bet even someone like me will recognize you next time."

But, you don't. Bakugou thinks, feeling the tug at his heart tighten, choking him from the inside. You never do.

From the pocket of his gym shorts, Bakugou starts feeling his phone vibrate, before it rings. Despite that, Midoriya's jump causes him to be just as startled.

Rubbing a hand to his neck, Midoriya weakly chuckles, "Sad. We were just starting to get to know each other."

Bakugou doesn't respond.

'ALL MIGHT.' The caller ID states in bold letters.

"I gotta go." Bakugou states firmly, holding tightly around his phone. "I need to take this call."

Midoriya's smile fades, but quickly it's picked up. "Yeah, no worries. I've probably been keeping you outside for too long."

Bakugou curtly nods, "You have."

And yet, even when the ringing persists, loudly telling him to walk away, leave, he stays. Because, Midoriya just looks like he doesn't want him to go.

He doesn't want to go, either.

"I never got your name." Midoriya mentions quietly.

Why would I give it, if you won't even remember?

Yet, that freckled, doey eyed face Midoriya's got never brings out the rationale, spiteful side of him out. Because, no matter how many times he has to say it, he'll do it again, and again. In a heartbeat.

"Just call me Kacchan."

Visibly, Midoriya's taken aback. Though, with the phone call on its last few rings, he finally steps off to the side, giving Bakugou space to walk.

"I'll see you around then," Midoriya waves off to him, "Kacchan."

A personal hell. Bakugou's living his personal hell.

When he walks inside the dorm building, the emotions suddenly hit him hard. Every day, he has to keep putting up with this crap.

Midoriya greeting him, talking to him, and saying goodbye, like a damn fucking stranger.

It kills him, eating away at his brain, knowing Midoriya's unable to look at him, and see nothing, but a stranger staring back.

When looking at Midoriya meant the world to him.

With a swift thumb swipe, Bakugou slides the phone call open. He clears his throat. "What now old man."

"I think we need to talk." All Might's voice crackles. "Privately. The sooner, the better. It's about the quirk that's been affecting young Midoriya."

His entire body tenses, halting him still. "..What about it.."

All Might sighs, long and tired. "The authorities found some intel about the culprit behind the memory loss. And, well.."

"Well, what?" Bakugou snaps.

"Midoriya's in deeper trouble, than we thought."

[herewithmeharry]

Endgame (Sequel to Worthwhile)

Worthwhile (part 1)

Warning: brief mentions of sex 

September 2018

Harry felt his heartbeat quicken as he went up the stairs of her building, fingers grazing the handrail as he moved closer to her door. It didn’t matter how long he’d known her, he seemed to always feel excitement brewing whenever the thought of seeing her popped into his head. This time around, his excitement was coupled with nerves, still getting used to having her back in his life. When she had caught his eye at the party a week earlier, he had felt a familiar fluttering in his chest that no one other than her had ever elicited in him. She looked so good and, after following her out and catching up with her on the front steps, he’d learned that she was also really thriving on her own. He had been afraid to admit that he had missed her, being the one to first suggest taking a break, and there was a part of him that selfishly wished she hadn’t moved on as well as she did.

“Are you happy?” She questioned following a lull in the conversation. She needed to know if their time apart had been worthwhile. He stared back at her, a little caught off guard by her question. He took a second to reflect and found himself nodding. As hard as it had been to say goodbye two years prior, he knew that their breakup had allowed him to focus on his personal growth as well as his career. He felt sure and secure in who he was and what he was doing which is all she had ever wanted for him.

“I am.” He smiled reassuringly, mindlessly fiddling with the ring on his left index finger. She exhaled when he answered, comforted by the confirmation of his happiness. “Are you?”

She didn’t expect him to throw the question back to her, shifting on the step as she contemplated her answer. Apart from her lackluster love life, she was really content with where she was in life. She had a newfound independence since breaking up with Harry, now very comfortable with herself. She no longer associated being alone with being lonely, she knew the type of people she wanted to surround herself with and she had found work that she was truly passionate about. She hadn’t realized until then that she had benefited from their split just as much as he had.

“Yeah, I really am.” She beamed and tilted her head slightly, content with her realisation.

Harry knocked on her door, adjusting the grip he held on the case of beers he was carrying. He waited patiently for her to open, suddenly aware of the pulsing sound in his ears. A few seconds passed before the door creaked, revealing her figure. Her hair was held back, frame engulfed by her knit jumper. Harry was immediately taken back to all of the fall mornings they had spent together, him sipping on his freshly brewed coffee as she would study for midterms at his dining table.

“Hi!” The excitement was evident in her voice as she let him step into her home, greeting him with a hug. He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, chin resting gently on her head as a wave of peace washed over him. And just like that, all nerves Harry had previously felt dissipated, leaving behind a sense of calmness and tranquility.

“Smells really good in here.”  He remarked, sliding off his shoes at the entrance.

“Right? I got some new fall scented candles the other day.” She informed him of her recent purchase, leading him into her apartment. The space was a perfect reflection of her: warm, cozy and clean. He noticed the fall décor she had recently put out, something that had been missing the other night when he brought her back after their dinner. Harry’s eyes fell on the coffee table centered in her living room and covered with various plates and bowls of food. She had always been a very ‘all or nothing’ person.

“You didn’t have to do all of this! I could’ve brought more than just beers if you had asked.” Harry held up the case of beers still in his hands as if to emphasize his point.

“Oh, stop. You’re the guest. Not your job to bring food.” She took the beers from his hand, walking over to place them in the fridge of the adjoining kitchen. Harry had to admit that it was strange to see her in the role of a hostess. He had only known her in her parents’ home or the quaint house she had shared with two roommates in college. He then realized that he had never pictured her living on her own, especially not in a small one bedroom flat in London.

“Pizza should be here any minute.” She notified him, encouraging him to take a seat on the sofa. Harry smiled to himself as he thought of the same meal they had first shared together in his hotel room five years before.

“There’s more?” He teased, leaning forward to grab a piece of cheese and a cracker. She came back, two open beers in hand as she rolled her eyes at his comment. He thanked her, taking the bottle from her grasp and watched as she made herself comfortable on the couch.

“So, how was your day?” She asked him, taking a sip from of her drink.

“Really good, actually. Went into the studio for the first time since being back.” Harry answered, hint of delight in his tone.

“Write anything good?”

“We’ll have to see what it turns into, but yeah, I think so. Been really inspired lately.” She found herself blushing ever so slightly at his comment. There was something about the way he looked at her while he spoke that made it evident that she was the source of his renewed creativity. A short buzz came from the entrance indicating the arrival of their food.

“Pizza’s here.” She pushed herself up as the oven beeped simultaneously. She glanced quickly between the door and the kitchen, trying to decide what warranted her attention first.

“I can go get the pizza if you wanna take that out.” Harry offered with a smirk, not surprised that she had even more food cooking.

“I seem to remember that you used to love when I baked these cookies.” She shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes widening at her statement.

“You could’ve made just those and I would’ve been perfectly happy!” He called from the door, hurrying to go meet the delivery man and come back in time to have one of her cookies fresh out of the oven.

~

“Can I ask you something?” The movie they had turned on was long forgotten as she brought her knees into her chest, arms around her legs. The television had only really served as background noise to their conversation throughout the evening.

“Shoot.” He encouraged and reached to set his plate on the table next to him, sensing that her question deserved his utmost attention.

“When we broke up, did you just kinda expect that we would eventually get back together? Like, did you think us breaking up would be as permanent as it’s been?” She wasn’t as timid as she thought she would be posing this question. Harry adjusted himself to sit up straighter, blanket covering his lap.

“Honestly, I always thought we’d get back together. I was convinced that it was just a break for the first few months, but then a year passed and we still hadn’t spoken and I had to kinda let go of that idea.” He paused, eyeing her as she nodded understandingly before requesting an answer from her to the same question.

“I did, at first. Just always thought we were endgame.” She admitted, loosely picking up a cookie and taking a small bite. They sat in comfortable silence, end credits scrolling across the screen in front of them. She stood to start clearing the crowded coffee table, Harry quickly following behind and helping her bring the leftovers and empty beer bottles to the kitchen.

“Thanks for having me over. This was really nice.” Harry thanked her after offering to help her with the dishes only to have her insist she would take care of them the next morning. The clock on the microwave indicated that it was a quarter past one in the morning.

“Of course!” She beamed, straightening up from leaning against the counter. She guided him back to the front door, standing with arms crossed while Harry struggled to put his shoes back on.

“Thank you for coming.” She stepped closer to his body, wrapping her arms around his neck to say goodbye. He held her close, her stray hairs tickling his jaw that pressed against her cheek. Their embrace lasted a little longer than any normal hug between two friends would. Then again, they weren’t just two normal friends.

Harry’s hands lingered on her hips as she pulled back slightly, fingers brushing the ends of the curls against the back of his neck. She bit down on her bottom lip, staring back at the man in front of her. Then, suddenly, her lip wasn’t in between her teeth, but pressed against Harry’s. She inhaled as she sank into the kiss, making note of how soft his lips still were. Harry’s grip tightened on her hips, feeling the earlier pounding of his heart return. He parted to look at her, searching for any signs that she didn’t want this in her eyes. Instead he heard her speak two words that almost made him forget to breathe.

“Don’t leave.” She spoke quietly, gaze jumping from his eyes to his lips. His hands moved to cup her cheeks and he didn’t hesitate to kiss her again. Their lips moved feverishly as if trying to make up for the time they had spent apart. She felt a shiver of pleasure run through her body when a soft groan came from the back of his throat. Her fingers tightened around his hair, feeling his hands move down again. His touch skimmed over the skin of her lower back under her jumper before landing back on her hips and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, giggling against his lips as he stumbled back against the wall. He felt his heart swell at the sound of her laugh, breathing heavily as she broke away momentarily to speak.

“Bedroom’s down the hall.”

~

“I don’t mean to be the girl that sleeps with you once and…” She stopped herself before she finished her sentence, sitting up straighter and pulling at the sheet covering her chest. “Actually, no. I’m sorry, but I am that girl and I need to know what this means for us.” She awaited his response, back exposed to the cool air of the room.

“I mean, we broke up because we needed time to figure out who we were on our own, right?” Harry finished buttoning his pants, the early morning sun peeking into her bedroom. She bobbed her head to confirm as he sat across from her, torso bare. “It seems like we’re both at a point where we know who we are and we know the type of people we want to surround ourselves with and… I think these new versions of ourselves work really well together.” He spoke slowly, making sure to take the time needed to properly articulate his thoughts. She nodded in agreement adjusting the sheet once more to cover her naked legs.

“I like who I am when I’m with you and I like how you make me feel.” Harry admitted with a sheepish smile.

“Soo…” She dragged out her word, hoping that they were both on the same page.

“I want to be with you.” He stated with a smirk, kneeling on the bed and using his fists to support his weight as he pecked her lips.

“Good.” She grinned, hands caressing both sides of his face. Harry let out a breathy chuckle as she leaned back, taking him down with her. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, love.”

[nightwingshero]

WIP Whoop There It Is

I was tagged by the lovely and talented @minilev thank you hun!!!

Tagging: @water-writings @xbaebsae @dieguzguz @strafethesesinners @shallow-gravy @chyrstis @geronimo-11 @fadedjacket @foofygoldfish @simonxriley @playstationmademe @witchofinterest and anyone else who would like to share! Please tag me if you do! 

Yeah, so...I’ve been bouncing a bit between Arrowverse and MCU. But since the stuff I’ve written so far for Camille and Steve isn’t ready to see the light of day, have some Arrowverse stuff with Blair and Carmen. 

It’s hard to think, really, which is rare for me. Me, of all people, because thinking comes so quick for me. It comes so easily. But I stand there, completely lost of thought, and I’m torn between congratulating her or lashing out, blaming her for the lack of flow, for the lack of the buzz—the sweet hum of thoughts. That’s my comfort, and it’s gone, like when the oxygen is sucked from my lungs so selfishly. Her dark hazel eyes watch me though, analyzing and not letting one thing slip by her, and this is the first moment I feel unsafe near her. Where I can’t trust her, and I don’t like it.

Carmen is someone I don’t recognize anymore.

Even as she stands there, almost pleading, or maybe just expecting me to say something. I’m at a loss though, because I’m rather positive I didn’t hear her correctly. I’m sure that this is just a fever dream, one that would occur more often when I had woken from my coma, because wasn’t this all I had ever wanted?

“Blair?” she pressed, and I can’t look her in the eye, so I settle for the grass beneath my feet—wet, soft, and mixed with mud from last night’s rain. “Say something.” That sounded more like a soft demand, something that was more her, but not one I noticed until now. I didn’t realize just how demanding she actually was until this moment, even after the falling out, the breakup, everything…it took this for me to notice it. It makes me wonder if I knew who I was engaged with at all.

She takes another step forward as she pulls the sweater cardigan tighter around her, shielding her from the wet cold that made my skin numb. “Did you hear what I said? With the cure…you could go back to normal. We could be…we could be together again. Just like we used to be.” Finally, my eyes meet hers again, and she gives me a small smile, but it’s not one I return. Not with the sting I feel in my chest.

“Carmen…I’m not…” I shook my head as I turned, standing a bit straighter. “I shouldn’t have to change who I am for you to love me. Love is unconditional, and if you can’t respect that…if you can’t understand that and accept me…then we shouldn’t even be together at all.”

“You…your powers hurt people, Blair.” Carmen frown, her tone becoming a bit harder as she looked me up and down. “You have that capability, you know that. And you’re okay with keeping them? You’re okay with choosing this life, choosing them, over me?”

It doesn’t happen often, me losing my temper or even getting angry, but I found myself more frustrated. I exhale heavily, a cloud a physical manifestation of the emotions boiling inside. “You left me while I was in a coma, do you really think that’s fair of you to pull that card?” she opened her mouth to respond, but I waved her off and continued. “No, I know. I don’t hold that against you, Carmen. I’m past it. But you can’t make that decision, and then shun me for being a meta human, only to come back at the hint of a cure, at a slight glimmer of a promise of what used to be.” Stepping back, I cross my arms, a shield to protect myself. “We can’t go back, Carmen. That…that’s the past, we’re different people. Everything is different…and I’m not sure…no, I know that’s not something I want anymore.”

[imaginationintowords]

Falling

Harry Styles x Famous!Reader angst

[Plot: inspired/loosely based on Harry’s song Falling. Harry and his famous ex sit down to talk, for the first time since their breakup years prior.]

[hope you guys like this. Started drafting this last month after I first heard Falling. Let me know what you think!]

To support my ko-fi

When Y/n was approached to do this interview she had agreed to do so, with an open mind. She was finally in a place where she could talk about what had happened without breaking down or feeling any kind of negative reaction. She had finally healed, properly in private over the past few years. She had finally moved on, found someone who treats her as their equal. But something stilled seemed off, it wasn't until her therapist brought up the idea of finally getting closure. Closure. She would finally be able to ask the questions she had let go, the insecurities that sometimes still loomed over her current relationship. So she agreed to do this artist on artist interview when approached by Variety.

Yes it was a way to promote the new movie that she is not only staring in, but co-wrote with one of her best friends. A movie inspired by heartbreak. She didn't do it for the promo though, the movie was already generating Oscar buzz. She is doing it for herself, to finally close this chapter once and for all. Once it was closed for good, everyone would stop hounding her about what had happened, and if there was any hope for reconciliation, even though she herself has been in a committed two year relationship. She needed to do this to show the world that she is more than just this person's ex.

She was more surprised to hear that he had agreed to do it. There was no one more private than Harry Styles.

This would be the first time they have seen and talked to each other since their breakup in December of 2015. The producers had asked if she wanted to meet him before they started shooting, she declined. If she was going to do this she was going to do this all the way.

The producers decided on having Harry waiting on set in front of the cameras, then Y/n would walk in and greet him. They wanted to keep it as natural as they possibly can in a room filled with cameras and people. The setup was perfect for an intimate one on one. No one off camera was going to be allowed to give any input. It was all on Harry and Y/n to keep the conversation going. Last minute they decided to only have a limited of people in the room, to respect the two artists who were about to bare it all out. So in the end it would be two camera guys, the director, one producer, Harry and Y/n's manager, Harry's mum Anne, who had decided to come last minute, and the two main acts.

"You ready?" Cat, Y/n's manager, asked her as the sound guy finished putting her mic on.

"Yeah. I am." Y/n nodded, looking at herself one final time, before they began the short walk to set.

When Y/n walked in she was greeted by the director and producer, politely shaking their hands. She immediately felt his eyes on her from where he sat in front of the cameras, patiently waiting for her. For once in her life she actually wasn't nervous, she had been nervous the last couple of weeks leading up to this, but right now as she listens to the director explaining what's going to happen, she feels a sense of relief, to finally get the closure she deserves.

Harry on the other hand was a bundle of nerves, he hasn't been able to sleep properly since he agreed to do this. He had only agreed because he wasn't expecting Y/n to agree to do it. She had kept his name out of her mouth in the media since the day they broke up. He had a feeling she and her team also had him blacklisted, any media outlet forbidden to ask Y/n questions about him and their failed relationship.

When he had heard she agreed to do it, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second. He was actually going to have to do this. That scared the shit out of him. He would have to be vulnerable in front of not just the world, but the girl that he had broken. The girl that still to this day occupied his mind from time to time. The girl that he couldn’t help but compare all the other girls after to. The girl that he still wrote songs about to this day. The girl that just by being in the same room as her had him falling in love all over again. 

The second he saw her enter the room, his heart stopped, his breath got caught in his throat. Everything just stood still. She had always had that affect on him. Making him fall just by the sight of her. He was finally able to see her beauty again in person, photos online didn't do her any justice. She was what the media called, "the girl next door" beautiful, everyone adored her, everyone wanted a chance to be with her, and yet she was oblivious to it all. Never truly believing she was as beautiful as everyone made it seem, and in some way that was probably his fault, for not making her believe she was truly that beautiful.

It took everything in his power not to go over to her and embrace her. He had to will himself to stay in his seat, until she approached him.

She finally made her way over to him, well more to her seat across from him.

Harry had started to get up, until he realized he wouldn't be getting the same greeting that everyone else got, so he sat back down, slightly embarrassed.

"Hi." She softly greeted him, as she sat in her seat.

"Hi." Now that she was in front of him, he had no idea what to say or how to begin all of this.

"Nervous?" She asked him.

She always did know him so well.

"Very. You?" He lightly laughed, making eye contact with her for the first time in years. Just like that he can’t help himself but to fall for her 

"A little. More curious than anything." She honestly answered, willing herself to forget about the cameras around.

"Really? Why so?" Harry asked, taken back by her answer.

"There's a lot of unanswered questions between us and I think we owe it to each other to find those out. So I'm curious to see what your take was on everything."

"Right." He started to get more nervous.

This was going to be a very emotional hour, for the both of them.

There was a beat of silence, then Y/n took a deep breath and began.

"How about we start easy then. How have you been? And don't give me that politically correct Harry Styles bullshit. Truthfully how have you been?" She asks, which causes Harry to let out a snort laugh.

"I've actually been good. Finishing up this new album. Working my ass on it. But I'm very proud of it. Really let my guard down this time."

"Difficult isn't it? Having to let your guard down, afraid of what everyone is going to make of it. But I guess that's why we do it, huh." She states.

"Exactly. I mean an album is nothing compared to writing a whole feature film. Talk about being vulnerable. I can't imagine doing that." Harry praises her. He remembers when she had told him years ago, during the first year of their relationship, that she and her best friend were writing a movie together.

"Yeah. That wasn't easy. We went through many, many drafts. Originally we wanted to write a romantic comedy. It wasn't until-" She stops herself, forgetting for a second who she was talking to.

"Until?" he presses her to continue, having a feeling of what her answer was going to be.

"It wasn't until we broke up that we decided a romantic comedy wasn't what we needed to write. I couldn't write one, not after that." She honestly answered.

"Why is that?"

"Because after our break up, the only thing I could write about was heartbreak. And not that cheesy sugarcoated shit, the real honest truth heartbreak. It just started to flow out of me, as soon as I started to type, that's what came out. So that's when we decided to change the idea of the movie. If we were going to put out a movie about breakups, it was going to be about great big breakups. Not just the bad ones. Not just the good ones, if those even exist. The ones that change a person. The ones that shake you to your core. The ones that don't seem possible to recover from. The ones that have you questioning, how can you ever fall out of love with someone you had planned to spend the rest of your life with. Those kinds of breakups. The everlasting ones." Y/n felt her eyes began to tear up as she described her inspiration. She took a breath to calm her nerves.

"Wow." Harry responded, feeling himself get choked up.

"I'm sorry." he apologized.

"For what?" Y/n asked, taken back by his apology. His long overdue apology.

"For the way our relationship ended. I'm sorry." He tearfully apologized.

"Our relationship was long over before we ended it. We should've ended our relationship before it got bad, but I think we were both holding onto something we both thought we could salvage. But we were just too far gone. We were just too young. I loved you, I was scared."

"Selfishly I didn't want to let you go, because I couldn't bare the thought of you loving someone else. Selfishly, I still can't bare the thought of you loving someone else." He truthfully tells her.

"That's unfair of you."

"Do you hate me?" Harry asked, the one question he's been dying to ask. If he didn't ask it now, he wouldn't have the guts to ask it later on. Better to just rip the band-aid off.

"Hate is such a powerful word. Small, but powerful. But I did. Not anymore. But yeah, I hated you. I think you know, slash, knew that. I wanted nothing to do with you. The way we ended, it shattered me. Then to see the pictures of you with another girl less than a month later. I wanted nothing but to hate you."

The answer knocked the wind out of him a little, he always assumed she hated him, but the confirmation just broke him.

"In the past almost four years, I've learned a lot about myself. Who I am without you. Who I was with you. Looking back on it, I didn't like who I was with you. I loved you so much, that I would do whatever you asked of me. Looking back, I don't even know who that girl was. I can't even fathom that i was like that. I was more mad that I had let myself become like that. I had always prided myself in being an independent woman, especially back then. But that definitely wasn't the case. I had lost myself to you.

Looking back on it now, it wasn't real. Who we were in public versus who we were behind closed doors.  We would be all happy out in the world but the second we got home, and those doors closed behind us, we just shut each other out. You shut me out. You were seeking comfort from other. When I should have been the one you ran to. You had written songs about being able to run to me for anything, but that wasn't the truth. It became pretty clear that we weren't happy anymore. That you weren't happy anymore in the relationship."

"I was." Harry retorted, feeling upset that that's how she felt.

"No you weren't. If you were, you wouldn't have done what you did. You wouldn't have said what you said. I wouldn't have left in such a haste that final night. You weren't happy. Neither was I. And it's okay to admit that." She calmly said.

Her calm demeanor was starting to make him a bit uncomfortable. He definitely wasn't expecting her to be so calm about this all. Especially since the last time they talked was a screaming match. But then looking back on it now, it was just a one person screaming match, and that ball laid on his court.

"You don't talk about me." He states, trying to regain his composure.

"No, I don't. I couldn't because it was too hard. Especially at the beginning. So I just had any talk of you blacklisted. It was better that way. It isn't the world's business to know what happened. At least not then." she softly laughs signaling to the cameras.

"It's what I needed to heal. Now if someone mentions you, I don't feel the same as I once did. It doesn't break me. Truthfully, until someone mentions you, I kind of forget."

"Sorry." she apologizes, when she sees his reaction to her answer.

"Have you listened to any of my solo stuff?"

"No. I couldn't. And as time went by I didn't feel the need to. I think it's better that way."

"Didn't you ever get curious?"

"No. My friends told me about it. Even said you slipped my name in one of the songs. Which I think, at the time, just added more fuel to the fire."

"Really?"

"Not everyone is going to find that endearing, Harry. Especially not with the way we ended. I didn't want to hear you playing the victim." She explains to him, a little offended by his reaction.

"I wasn't." He defended himself.

"Right. We were both at fault, but last time I checked you were the one moving on after a few short weeks. At that moment, when I heard you name dropping me, and then to see the comments online, it made me so mad. And it was a set back to my own healing. Here you are telling the world how heartbroken you are, but then you are just out in the open with a new girl, no worries on how that would make me feel." she emotionally tells him, with tears in her eyes.

"Which took me some time to realize that you didn't owe me anything. We were no longer together. You were free to do whatever you pleased, with whoever you pleased. I had to accept that I had no right in the decisions that you made post-us." she calms down.

"We were never meant to last forever. I see that now." she expresses what she had learned years ago, the revelation that finally allowed her to move on.

“You’re going to need to stop doing that.” she tells him, he could feel the pity.

“Stop what?”

“Writing songs about me. You need to let me go.” she informs him.

"Do you ever regret our relationship?" he bluntly inquires.

"No. It taught me some valuable things about myself, and about relationships. Do you?" she asks back.

"Never." He says.

There was a moment of silence. No one sure if the conversation is over, as it had already been an hour since they began. The director was about to call cut, when Harry spoke up.

"I'm scared that you'll never need me again." he truthfully says, tears brimming his eyes.

"That shouldn't scare you. You should want nothing but the best for me, like I wish nothing but the best for you." she explains, her eyes matching the same emotion as him, feeling the end of the conversation close by.

"Are you happy?"

"Truthfully? Yes."

"Do you see us ever getting back together?" his bottom lip trembles a bit.

"No." She truthfully answers, a few tears escaping.

"Does he make you happy?"

"Yes." she smiles, at the mention of her current partner.

"Is he the one?" he asks as the tears fall down his cheeks, afraid of the answer that's about to come out of her mouth.

"Yes. He's the one." she bites down on her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out.

"I still love you." he confesses, crying.

"I know." she bittersweetly discloses.

She gives him one final smile, before she gets up and gives his hand a comforting pat, as she makes her final exit out of his life for good.

[Permanent tagged: Permanent tagged: @definitelynotafangirl @1awesomeash @princess-evans-addict @geeksareunique @sebbbystaaan if you’d like to be removed just ask and I’d be happy to do so]

[shawnpetermuffins]

How's It Feel (CG pt 2 again)

A/n: I'm reuploading this because something when wrong when I did it the first time.

Summary: Shawn's starting to feel how you did for way too long and he's realizing he can't cope with the pain.

Requested: yes, by so many of you for god knows what reason

***

The hole in my chest had only grown since y/n walked out of our apartment. I tried texting her, calling her. I tried everything until eventually my messages didn't go through anymore. My calls went straight to voicemail. All of her stuff was gone when I got back from the studio one day too, and if it was even possible, my heart broke all over again seeing that.

And as if not being with her wasn't already messing with my head, having to tell my family was even worse. Mum was pissed, didn't talk to me for three days, Aaliyah over a week. (I’ll be honest, she probably still wouldn’t be talking to me had I not broke down in front of Mum when I went to go work things out with them.) It was torture not being able to talk to two of the most important women in my life, about the other other single most important girl in my life. One who no longer wanted me.

I knew I fucked up, there was no denying that. But I never intended to hurt her the way I did. I took her love for granted, I know that now, but knowing that just makes it hurt worse.

So I spent almost every night following our no-so mutual breakup at the bar, drinking the strongest liquor I could get my hands on because beer just wasn't going to cut it. If I was going to drown in anything, I'd rather it be in alcohol than in my own self pity. And it worked… until I met her.

---

Jordan's presence slammed into my like a ton of bricks. She was everything that the media thought I should be with. Long, flowy blonde hair. Legs for days. That "natural glow" that very obviously was just a dewy foundation - something y/n never wore because she thought it made her look more oily than dewy. By all means, she is who I wanted. Or more accurately, she is who I wanted to want.

Jordan was probably the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. There's not a doubt in my mind. But she wasn't y/n. She didn't stay the night. She hardly ever called, not unless I had promo events or award shows. So I guess lucky for me, it was award season. But these were the only times I'd see her. Only times I'd talk to her. Not that I didn't want to. I did, and I tried. But my messages would go read and unanswered. She never wanted to hang out with me and my friends, and on the ever-so rare occasion that she did accept my offer, it always ended with a quick fuck and she was out the door. There were no cuddles, there was no snuggling. I didn't get to wake up to make her breakfast like I used to do for y/n before I let things go so wrong.

I wonder if this is what y/n felt when I was out the door before she ever got the chance to open her eyes. I wonder if she felt this every morning for the last eight months of our relationship. That's how long it was, I realized when it was much too late. I blew off plans, and I didn't come home, and I didn't talk to her for eight months. But I still expected her to do things for me. Go to my awards shows even when I know she told me she had things she needed to do for work. I called her unsupportive more times than I can count and I unintentionally, but somehow knowingly let her slip through my fingers.

---

Come over???

Jordan read the text three hours ago and still hasn't bothered to respond. Not that I was expecting her to anymore. Unless I ask her to come to an award show with me, I won't get a response for days.

So I'm here, logged into Brian's Instagram looking through y/n's most recent posts because she blocked me on literally everything, not that I can blame her. She knew me well enough to know that after the way we ended things I would want to check up on her. Even though I didn't do it enough while I had her.

Kinda_yourname

7,421 likes

Kinda_yourname Carnival nights call for impromptu photo shoots

📸: @connorbrashier

Comments have been disabled.

I throw my phone onto the coffee table, suddenly sick to my stomach.

Connor. She still talks to him. They still hang out. I knew they had gotten close on the SM3 tour but I'd never realized that they were still close. It shouldn't bother me - she's, in fact, not mine anymore no matter how much I wish she were - But it does. It bothers me so much. Because who is he to be taking pictures like this of the girl I used to call my own? How is someone I considered a friend going to betray me this way?

I want so badly to throw something, to scream, and punch and kick like a dramatic child who's just been told he can't go play outside with his friends because it's far too hot. Other than the fact that my phone is no longer in my hands, and that my fingers are pressed firmly into the denim encompassing my legs, anyone watching me wouldn't be able to tell that I was in such serious turmoil.

I want to go back to feeling something. Even if it is just contempt for myself and the way I let things get so out of hand. But something inside me won't let it happen. I've become nothing but a hollow shell of what I used to be. I feel nothing. I want for nothing. I do nothing. It’s been hell on my music, too. Selfishly, I thought that being heartbroken would help me write another album, but now I have no inspiration. My muse is gone.

---

I'm sitting in the dining room with my mum who seems to be a little on edge while I'm talking to her. She keeps looking toward the door when she thinks I'm not looking, but I can't bring myself to ask why she's acting so weird. I should have.

"Where's Liyah?" I asked.

"Getting ready. She's going out with a friend."

I nodded, "Who?"

Mum shook her head and dismissed the question with wave of her hand, "You don't know her."

Ouch.

"Now, uh, what's going on?" She clasped her hands together.

I furrowed my brows, but shrugged off the uneasiness radiating through her body language. "I uh… I messed up."

"What do you mean?"

"With y/n."

She sighed, "Shawn. It's been three months."

"Yeah. And I haven't been able to write a song since we broke up."

"I thought you said you were dating that new girl."

"Jordan," I mumbled.

"Yes, her."

"It's complicated." I took in a deep breath, "Every time I try to make an effort, it's never reciprocated. She never texts me back, or calls me. She only ever wants to get together when I tell her I have an award show to go to or like I'm doing press. And I don't get that same feeling that I used to get when y/n would look at me. I don't love her, mum. Hell, I don't even know if I really like her or if I'm forcing myself to because I'm trying to compensate for what I don't have with y/n anymore."

Mum didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes told me everything.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"It's something. What? What are you thinking?"

"Now, honey you know I love you. And I will support you through anything." She took my hands in hers from across the table. "But it sounds to me like you're getting a taste of your own medicine."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't get upset, Shawn. But that's exactly what you did with y/n. She texted and she called and you only wanted her when you needed someone next to you. You didn't treat her like your girlfriend. Not even a little bit. She was 'arm candy.' And that, it pains me to say, is what you are to this Jordan girl."

I run my hands through my hair, frustrated. "I don't want Jordan anymore. And it's clear she doesn't want me. I have to end things with her."

"If that's what you want, then I support you."

"I want y/n, mum… What do I do?"

"There's nothing you can do... Y/n isn't going to take you back."

"You don't know that," I said desperately, even though I knew she was right."

“Sweetheart, you know I love y/n. We all do. And you also know that I wouldn’t be telling you this if I thought that she would take you back. But Shawn… you hurt her. No, that’s not right. You broke her. That whole last year of your relationship shattered her into a million pieces. She’s trying just as hard as you - if not harder - to pick herself back up after this.”

“She’s hanging out with Connor. Did you know that?”

“And what does that matter? You’re with someone else.”

“It’s Connor! He and I are friends!”

“Shawn -”

"Karen! I hope you don't mind. I used my key, is Aaliyah -"

I stilled at the sound of the voice of  both my dreams and nightmares. A voice I never thought I'd hear again. I slowly turned around and was met with her frighteningly pale skin, she looked like she'd seen a ghost, and I knew I probably looked the same.

"Hi," I said like an idiot after a minute of full on staring at her, taking in every single thing I could.

She didn't say it back, just shook her head and averted her eyes and cleared her throat. "Karen, is Aaliyah ready?"

"I'm ready!" My little sister beamed, entering the now overly tense dining room. “Oh... Hey, Shawn.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, only to y/n.

“Liyah, you got your stuff?”

She nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” She crossed the room and pressed a kiss to Mum’s cheek. “I’ll be back later.”

“Is it cool if I take her out to dinner?” y/n asked, still not looking at me. "There were a lot of people at the mall when I passed by, we might be longer than expected.

“What the hell is going on?” I exclaimed, and I knew eyes were on me now, but not the eyes I so desperately wanted to be on me. "Did you know she was coming over?" I asked my mom.

She didn't answer me and that was response enough. “That’s fine, honey. But come back for dessert, okay? Manny and I were thinking sundaes with all the fixings.”

“You know the way to my heart, Karen. We’ll be back by eight.”

Aaliyah was now standing next to my ex-girlfriend once again and my heart ached watching them. They started walking toward the door, and I was going to leave it alone. Let them walk out the house without a problem, but my body reacted before my mind could catch up. “Y/n, wait.” When she didn’t turn around, I took her wrist. “Baby, please. Can we talk?”

“Let go of me, Shawn,” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not until you look at me,” I said, desperation lacing between every word.

She sighed and fished her keys out of her pocket, “Hon, can you wait in the car? I’ll be right there.”

My sister nodded and walked out of the house without so much as a glance my way. And when the door shut behind her, those y/e/c eye finally met mine, breaking me even more because they didn’t hold that light they used to.

"What, Shawn? What could you possibly want?"

I open and close my mouth like a fish gasping for water.

"Well?" She arches an eyebrow at me, making me feel small beneath that stare that I desperately wanted just minutes ago, but now I wish she would look away. Because seeing that hurt and hatred behind her eyes is killing me. "What do you want?" She asked again.

And I broke. "You. Always fucking you!"

She scoffed, "No you don't!" She exclaimed. "You don't want me, you're lonely! I'm not your pet, Shawn! I'm not gonna come at your beck and call. I'm a human being. A human being with real feelings. A human being still trying to fix what you broke," her finger jabbed into my chest. "You don't get to say that you miss me after the way you treated me."

"I know, but-"

"Do you seriously think you can defend yourself here?" Y/n crosses her arms over her chest and it only makes me more upset.

"What makes you think you have any right to defend yourself?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Yeah, you're out there fucking around with one of my close friends, right? What? Are you gonna say he's just a friend? That he's just looking out for your well-being? Because that's definitely not the case."

"WHO?! Which of your 'close friends' am I supposedly fucking around with?"

Hearing her curse that way reminds me that we're in my parent's house and I suddenly feel really bad for causing this scene in front of my mum, but we're already too far gone.

"Oh, don't play dumb!"

"Enlighten me." She won't budge from her spot, but I've paced so much and so quickly that I was starting to leave a path in the carpet.

"With Connor. I saw you were together on your instagram."

"How could you even see that if I blocked you?"

"Are you gonna deny it?"

"Am I not allowed to have friends, Shawn? Because last I checked, you weren't my boyfriend, and you sure as hell weren't my 'keeper.' You don't have any right to tell me who I can and can't hang out with. So what if I'm hanging out with him? We got close on tour." She said with a shrug, "not that it's any of your business, but we are just friends"

“I haven’t written since you left,” I said lowly, suddenly much too tired to continue this screaming match that literally just started. “And I’ve been seeing this girl,” I said and tried to find some type of emotion behind her eyes, but there was nothing.

"Then why the hell should it matter if I'm with Connor? Even as friends?"

I couldn’t answer her yet, so I continued, “She never wants to hang out. She’s only there for awards and stuff. It kind of sucks actually.”

She scoffed, “That’s funny. Because that seemed to be exactly what you were wanting while we were together.”

“That’s not what I wanted, y/n. I just lost sight of what we had, my feelings got confused, and they shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to hurt you that way.”

“But you did! And now you’re complaining for what? Because she’s not waiting around for you like I was?”

“Honey-”

“No! You don’t get to call me that anymore! You have no right!”

“Okay,” I hold my hands up in defense. “I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know what to say to make this better. I didn’t realize that you felt this way until it happened to me. And it’s the worst feeling. I feel like nothing I do will ever be good enough.” I sigh, “and I’m miserable without you,” I confessed.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But that's not my fault. You made the decisions that you did and you lost me in the process. That was all you."

"I want to go back. Forget that it's over."

"But you can't," she said, finally uncrossing her arms.

"But if we could?"

She shook her head, "even if we could. I'm not willing to forget."

"Will we ever be okay again? Be the way we used to be? Before we started dating."

She sighed and her gaze dropped once again. "As far as I'm concerned," she started. "You and I were strangers before we got together… and we're strangers once again." With a heavy sigh and a quick run of her fingers through her hair, she turned her attention back to the door that my sister walked out of just minutes ago. "I have to go. Your sister's waiting."

Don't go, I think to myself. Let me fix this. Let me try. But of course I don't say this. I watch her fingers curl around knob and my own fingers twitch, just aching to reach for her. But then the door closes with a soft click behind her and I find myself leaning against that same hard wood, tears blurring my vision.

I slide to the floor, my head in my hands, shoulders shaking with my uncontrolled sobs.

I never thought I'd feel this heartbreak. It's even worse the second time, somehow. Maybe because I know now that this is it for us.

Because I was always the master of words, and her of action. But in this moment, there are no words to save me, nor weapons to save her.

We are caught, defenseless, on seperate sides of the door.

[shawnpetermuffins]

How's It Feel (CG pt 2)

A/n: I really struggled to write this, I'm not gonna lie. It wasn't turning out the way I wanted it at all, but this is what I've got and I still hope you like it.

Summary: Shawn's starting to feel how you did for way too long.

Requested: yes, by a lot of you surprisingly

Word count: 2.8k

***

The hole in my chest had only grown since y/n walked out of our apartment. I tried texting her, calling her. I tried everything until eventually my messages didn't go through anymore. My calls went straight to voicemail. All of her stuff was gone when I got back from the studio one day too, and if it was even possible, my heart broke all over again seeing that.

And as if not being with her wasn't already messing with my head, having to tell my family was even worse. Mum was pissed, didn't talk to me for three days, Aaliyah over a week. (I’ll be honest, she probably still wouldn’t be talking to me had I not broke down in front of Mum when I went to go work things out with them.) It was torture not being able to talk to two of the most important women in my life, about the other single most important girl in my life. One who no longer wanted me.

I knew I fucked up, there was no denying that. But I never intended to hurt her the way I did. I took her love for granted, I know that now, but knowing that just makes it hurt worse.

So I spent almost every night following our not-so mutual breakup at the bar, drinking the strongest liquor I could get my hands on because beer just wasn't going to cut it. If I was going to drown in anything, I'd rather it be in alcohol than in my own self pity. And it worked… until I met her.

---

Jordan's presence slammed into my like a ton of bricks. She was everything that the media thought I should be with. Long, flowy blonde hair. Legs for days. That "natural glow" that very obviously was just a dewy foundation - something y/n never wore because she thought it made her look more oily than dewy. By all means, she is who I wanted. Or more accurately, she is who I wanted to want.

Jordan was probably the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. There's not a doubt in my mind. But she wasn't y/n. She didn't stay the night. She hardly ever called, not unless I had promo events or award shows. So I guess lucky for me, it was award season. But these were the only times I'd see her. Only times I'd talk to her. Not that I didn't want to. I did, and I tried. But my messages would go read and unanswered. She never wanted to hang out with me and my friends, and on the ever-so rare occasion that she did accept my offer, it always ended with a quick fuck and she was out the door. There were no cuddles, there was no snuggling. I didn't get to wake up to make her breakfast like I used to do for y/n before I let things go so wrong.

I wonder if this is what y/n felt when I was out the door before she ever got the chance to open her eyes. I wonder if she felt this every morning for the last eight months of our relationship. That's how long it was, I realized when it was much too late. I blew off plans, and I didn't come home, and I didn't talk to her for eight months. But I still expected her to do things for me. Go to my awards shows even when I know she told me she had things she needed to do for work. I called her unsupportive more times than I can count and I unintentionally, but somehow knowingly let her slip through my fingers.

---

Come over???

Jordan read the text three hours ago and still hasn't bothered to respond. Not that I was expecting her to anymore. Unless I ask her to come to an award show with me, I won't get a response for days.

So I'm here, logged into Brian's Instagram looking through y/n's most recent posts because she blocked me on literally everything, not that I can blame her. She knew me well enough to know that after the way we ended things I would want to check up on her. Even though I didn't do it enough while I had her.

Kinda_yourname

7,421 likes

Kinda_yourname Carnival nights call for impromptu photo shoots.

📸: @ connorbrashier

Comments have been disabled.

I throw my phone onto the coffee table, suddenly sick to my stomach.

Connor. She still talks to him. They still hang out. I knew they had gotten close on the SM3 tour but I'd never realized that they were still close. It shouldn't bother me - she's, in fact, not mine anymore no matter how much I wish she were - But it does. It bothers me so much. Because who is he to be taking pictures like this of the girl I used to call my own? How is someone I considered a friend going to betray me this way?

I want so badly to throw something, to scream, and punch and kick like a dramatic child who's just been told he can't go play outside with his friends because it's far too hot. Other than the fact that my phone is no longer in my hands, and that my fingers are pressed firmly into the denim encompassing my legs, anyone watching me wouldn't be able to tell that I was in such serious turmoil.

I want to go back to feeling something. Even if it is just contempt for myself and the way I let things get so out of hand. But something inside me won't let it happen. I've become nothing but a hollow shell of what I used to be. I feel nothing. I want for nothing. I do nothing. It’s been hell on my music, too. Selfishly, I thought that being heartbroken would help me write another album, but now I have no inspiration. My muse is gone.

---

I'm sitting in the dining room with my mum who seems to be a little on edge while I'm talking to her. She keeps looking toward the door when she thinks I'm not looking, but I can't bring myself to ask why she's acting so weird. I should have.

"Where's Liyah?" I asked.

"Getting ready. She's going out with a friend."

I nodded, "Who?"

Mum shook her head and dismissed the question with wave of her hand, "You don't know her."

Ouch.

"Now, uh, what's going on?" She clasped her hands together.

I furrowed my brows, but shrugged off the uneasiness radiating through her body language. "I uh… I messed up."

"What do you mean?"

"With y/n."

She sighed, "Shawn. It's been three months."

"Yeah. And I haven't been able to write a song since we broke up."

"I thought you said you were dating that new girl."

"Jordan," I mumbled.

"Yes, her."

"It's complicated." I took in a deep breath, "Every time I try to make an effort, it's never reciprocated. She never texts me back, or calls me. She only ever wants to get together when I tell her I have an award show to go to or like I'm doing press. And I don't get that same feeling that I used to get when y/n would look at me. I don't love her, mum. Hell, I don't even know if I really like her or if I'm forcing myself to because I'm trying to compensate for what I don't have with y/n anymore."

Mum didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes told me everything.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"It's something. What? What are you thinking?"

"Now, honey you know I love you. And I will support you through anything." She took my hands in hers from across the table. "But it sounds to me like you're getting a taste of your own medicine."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't get upset, Shawn. But that's exactly what you did with y/n. She texted and she called and you only wanted her when you needed someone next to you. You didn't treat her like your girlfriend. Not even a little bit. She was 'arm candy.' And that, it pains me to say, is what you are to this Jordan girl."

I run my hands through my hair, frustrated. "I don't want Jordan anymore. And it's clear she doesn't want me. I have to end things with her."

"If that's what you want, then I support you."

"I want y/n, mum… What do I do?"

"There's nothing you can do. Y/n isn't going to take you back."

"You don't know that," I said desperately, even though I knew she was right."

“Sweetheart, you know I love y/n. We all do. And you also know that I wouldn’t be telling you this if I thought that she would take you back. But Shawn… you hurt her. No, that’s not right. You broke her. That whole last year of your relationship shattered her into a million pieces. She’s trying just as hard as you - if not harder - to pick herself back up after this.”

“She’s hanging out with Connor. Did you know that?”

“And what does that matter? You’re with someone else.”

“It’s Connor! He and I are friends!”

“Shawn -”

"Karen! I hope you don't mind. I used my key, is Aaliyah -"

I stilled at the sound of the voice of both my dreams and my nightmares. A voice I never thought I'd hear again. I slowly turned around and was met with her frighteningly pale skin, she looked like she'd seen a ghost, and I knew I probably looked the same.

"Hi," I said like an idiot after a minute of full on staring at her, taking in every single thing I could.

She didn't say it back, just shook her head, averted her eyes and cleared her throat. "Karen, is Aaliyah ready?"

"I'm ready!" My little sister beamed, entering the now overly tense dining room. “Oh... Hey, Shawn.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, only to y/n.

“Liyah, you got your stuff?”

She nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” She crossed the room and pressed a kiss to Mum’s cheek. “I’ll be back later.”

“Is it cool if I take her out to dinner?” y/n asked, still not looking at me. "There were a lot of people at the mall when I passed by so we might be there longer than expected."

“What the hell is going on?” I exclaimed, and I knew eyes were on me now, but not the eyes I so desperately wanted to be on me. "Did you know she was coming over?" I asked mum.

She didn't answer me and that was response enough. “That’s fine, honey. But come back for dessert, okay? Manny and I were thinking sundaes with all the fixings.”

“You know the way to my heart, Karen. We’ll be back by eight.”

Aaliyah was now standing next to my ex-girlfriend once again and my heart ached watching them. They started walking toward the door, and I was going to leave it alone. Let them walk out the house without a problem, but my body reacted before my mind could catch up. “Y/n, wait.” When she didn’t turn around, I took her wrist. “Baby, please. Can we talk?”

“Let go of me, Shawn,” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not until you look at me,” I said, desperation lacing between every word.

She sighed and fished her keys out of her pocket, “Hon, can you wait in the car? I’ll be right there.”

My sister nodded and walked out of the house without so much as a glance my way. And when the door shut behind her, those y/e/c eyes finally met mine, breaking me even more because they didn’t hold that light they used to.

"What, Shawn? What could you possibly want?"

I open and close my mouth like a fish gasping for water.

"Well?" She arches an eyebrow at me, making me feel small beneath that stare that I desperately wanted just minutes ago, but now I wish she would look away. Because seeing that hurt and hatred behind her eyes is killing me. "What do you want?" She asked again.

And I broke. "You. Always fucking you!"

She scoffed, "No you don't!" She exclaimed. "You don't want me, you're lonely! I'm not your pet, Shawn! I'm not gonna come at your beck and call. I'm a human being. A human being with real feelings. A human being still trying to fix what you broke," her finger jabbed into my chest. "You don't get to say that you miss me after the way you treated me."

"I know, but-"

"Do you seriously think you can defend yourself here?" Y/n crosses her arms over her chest and it only makes me more upset.

"What makes you think you have any right to defend yourself?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Yeah, you're out there fucking around with one of my close friends, right? What? Are you gonna say he's just a friend? That he's just looking out for your well-being? Because that's definitely not the case."

"WHO?! Which of your 'close friends' am I supposedly fucking around with?"

Hearing her curse that way reminds me that we're in my parent's house and I suddenly feel really bad for causing this scene in front of my mum, but we're already too far gone.

"Oh, don't play dumb!"

"Enlighten me." She won't budge from her spot, but I've paced so much and so quickly that I was starting to leave a path in the carpet.

"With Connor. I saw you were together on your instagram."

"How could you even see that if I blocked you?"

"Are you gonna deny it?"

"Am I not allowed to have friends, Shawn? Because last I checked, you weren't my boyfriend, and you sure as hell weren't my 'keeper.' You don't have any right to tell me who I can and can't hang out with. So what if I'm hanging out with him? We got close on tour." She said with a shrug, "not that it's any of your business, but we are just friends"

"I haven't written since you left," I said lowly, suddenly much too tired to continue this screaming match that literally just started. "And I've been seeing this girl," I said and tried to find some type of emotion behind her eyes, but there was nothing.

"Then why the hell should it matter if I was with Connor? Even as friends."

I couldn't answer her yet, so I continued, "She never wants to hang out. She's only there for awards and stuff. It kind of sucks actually."

She scoffed, "That's funny. Because that seemed to be exactly what you were wanting while we were together."

"That's not what I wanted, y/n. I just lost sight of what we had, my feelings got confused, and they shouldn't have. I didn't mean to hurt you that way."

"But you did! And now you're complaining for what? Because she's not waiting around for you like I was?"

"Honey-"

"No! You don't get to call me that anymore! You have no right!"

"Okay," I hold my hands up in defense. "I'm sorry. I just, I don't know what to say to make this better. I didn't realize that you felt this way until it happened to me. And it's the worst feeling. I feel like nothing I do will ever be good enough." I sigh, "and I'm miserable without you," I confessed.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But that's not my fault. You made the decisions that you did and you lost me in the process. That was all you."

"I want to go back. Forget that it's over."

"But you can't," she said, finally uncrossing her arms.

"But if we could?"

She shook her head, "even if we could. I'm not willing to forget."

"Will we ever be okay again? Be the way we used to be? Before we started dating."

She sighed and her gaze dropped once again. "As far as I'm concerned," she started. "You and I were strangers before we got together… and we're strangers once again." With a heavy sigh and a quick run of her fingers through her hair, she turned her attention back to the door that my sister walked out of just minutes ago. "I have to go. Your sister's waiting."

Don't go, I think to myself. Let me fix this. Let me try. But of course I don't say this. I watch her fingers curl around knob and my own fingers twitch, just aching to reach for her. But then the door closes with a soft click behind her and I find myself leaning against that same hard wood, tears blurring my vision.

I slide to the floor, my head in my hands, shoulders shaking with my uncontrolled sobs.

I never thought I'd feel this heartbreak. It's even worse the second time, somehow. Maybe because I know now that this is it for us.

Because I was always the master of words, and her of action. But in this moment, there are no words to save me, nor weapons to save her.

We are caught, defenseless, on seperate sides of the door.

***

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A/n: I didn't feel the same way about this one as I did the first one, but I hope you enjoyed it!

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