The air conditioning hums, mixing with the needy gasps and moans of the girl beneath me. Her perfume was something strong—musk like. The total opposite of how you smell, sweet n'warm. This was wrong, and it has my heart twisting inside of my chest.

My mind is falling deeper and deeper into guilt—I shouldn't be doing this, yet here I am because of a moment of weakness. Because I couldn't keep it in my pants?

You and I have been together for two years—since 2011. You're still in university currently, studying law and criminal justice. My future little solicitor. So you stayed back here whilst I'm on tour, which, I pulled a few strings to get a couple of days off between the next set of shows to come and see you before we travel again. I got back to our house around midday today and you're visiting your parents who live just out of London so you told me you'd be home tomorrow, then we'll have a few chill days together, just the two of us.

But this, my... current predicament... It started a few hours ago when I headed to the bar—which in reality, was my first mistake. Why didn't I just go to a liquor store and buy a bottle of something to bring back to our house and wallow in self pity on my own?

There was a group of girls there, which again, another mistake that I didn't immediately leave upon seeing that. I ignored it initially, you're the only girl I want. Two years going strong—or at least was going strong. I ordered my drink and sat at the bar on my own, but I guess I looked pretty forsaken swirling my dark whiskey in my glass on my own, because one of the girls from the posse—a blonde with sharp arched eyebrows and bright red lips, came over to me, offering some company. I should've turned her down the second she came over, there was a slight rasp in her voice which immediately told me she was horny and looking for something for more than just talking—but I looked past it in desperation to talk to someone, I miss you, but you aren't coming home until tomorrow.

Or so I thought.

"Harry-" The blonde beneath me whines and writhes, clearly noticing my distracted expression. My heart hasn't been fully—if anything—in it from the start but she was so adamant in making me forget about you. She pulls at my shirt—which I had left on leaving some kind of respect to you—though it's not really doing anything, is it? I'm still cheating on you. Maybe because I haven't kissed her at all will soften the blow. Yeah, I'm holding onto literal threads at this point, I can't lose you. You're my girl—my beautiful girl.

I practically collapse on top of her after losing my balance at her tug.

The sound of our creaky bedroom door in desperate need of oil makes my head snap towards it—you walk through the threshold, hauling your pretty pink suitcase behind you which, once upon a time, I had promised myself I would get filled up with stickers of different landmarks. We're supposed to travel the world together. Your cheerful smile instantly drops when you take in the sight before you—I did that. I hurt you and in our house, in our bed, no less.

Oh. Oh, no no no no no.

"Baby, fuck-" I swallow thickly, a lump already growing in my throat—eyes glossing over and full of regret. I immediately pull out of the blonde who whines at the loss but I couldn't care less about her. I don't even care that I still have a condom on, I pull my sweatpants up and reach out a trembling hand for you. "{{user}}, please, I'm sorry."