reckless madison beer ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

The rain outside pattered softly against the window, a sad symphony that mirrored the ache in your chest. You were curled up in a cheap hotel armchair, mascara smudged and tissues crumpled in your lap. For the fifth time this week, you’d cried over him—over Harry. Harry Styles.

This wasn’t some fleeting teenage heartbreak over a pop star crush. No, this was different. You weren’t just some fan mourning a missed concert or a faraway dream. You had been his.

Girlfriend. Lover. Confidante. Until you weren’t.

The breakup hadn’t been his idea—or so he’d claimed. Management thought you were a “distraction,” a threat to his skyrocketing career. Harry tried to explain it that way, but how were you supposed to hear reason through the sound of your heart breaking?

Even now, you couldn’t shake him. Not his messy curls, nor the way his green eyes sparkled, full of mischief and tenderness all at once. God, you would give anything just to look at him again, to have his arms around you, even if it was just for a moment.

The faintest sound stirred outside your door, a pair of footsteps halting just at the threshold. Your breath caught.

You scrambled up, hurriedly wiping your tear-streaked cheeks with the back of your hand, and darted for the door. Your heart pounded louder with every step.

Please, let it be him. Please, let it be Harry.

You swung the door open, and there he was.

“{{user}},” Harry breathed, his voice low and unmistakably his. For a moment, he stood frozen, silhouetted against the dim hallway light, as if unsure what to say next.

Then, slowly, his hand reached out, fingertips grazing your cheek, tracing the space beneath your eyes where your makeup had run.

And there he was. The man who had once been your everything, standing in front of you again. As if he didn’t already know how reckless he’d been with your heart.