SEVENTEEN
The breakdown.

Another week flew by, and since Harry was still avoiding talking to me, it was inevitable drifting us apart.

It was true.
The twin flame thing, it was a really intense relationship and just as fast as it came, it went off too.
And I could feel the separation already burning me on the inside.

I was moody, angry, my mornings weren't the same without Harry to run by my side, my lunches weren't the same without hanging out at the greenhouse with him, everything was different.

And it was really annoying.

Because he just came into my life less than two months ago and now he has become irreplaceable.

I missed him already.
I missed his cat, I missed his butterflies, I missed his depressing movies, I missed his crazy ideas.

I missed him.

I tried talking to him. More than once.
Niall tried to talk to him too.

But he just wouldn't budge.

He kept repeating that he wasn't ready just yet, asking me for patience.

I didn't know what else to do and I was losing my fucking mind.

I called Liam more than once just to ask for advice, but he was just as lost as I was.
So was Niall.

And the whole situation was just frustrating and stressing the both of us.

So, when I heard the door of my flat opening and some quick steps on the floor, I just buried my face on the pillow of my bed and groaned.

"I don't want any more beer, Niall. I'm still hungover from last night."

"Do you want water?" - I heard a voice saying from the frame of my door.

"Harry." - I sat up in bed, surprised.

He was standing there with a smirk on his face.

"In the flesh. So, you're hungover? I leave for like a week and you just spend that time drinking with my best friend?"

"Sorry, he... he just loves alcohol." - I mumbled, running a hand on my face. - "Fuck. I really need water."

"I'll bring it to you." - He said and turned around, heading to my kitchen.

I took a deep breath and sighed, reaching for a shirt and putting it on, glancing at my phone, I saw it was almost seven pm.

I slept all day long?
Fuck.

Harry returned with a cup of coffee and a glass of water. He handed the glass to me and climbed into the bed by my side, settling himself under the blankets.

I took a sip of my water and turned to look at him, feeling a little awkward.

"So?" - I asked.

"So?" - He smiled.

"This means?" - I asked again, doubtful.

"This means I'm ready to listen to you." - He smiled again. - "But first, I just want you to know that I've been thinking and arranging some stuff." - He turned to me and took my hand. - "I'm ready to go to England with you. I don't want to be without you. I can't. So I'm willing to move and follow you."

"What?"

"I don't want distance to drift us apart. I won't let it happen. I'm staying with you all the way. It doesn't mean that I'm actually moving in with you, just together in the same country." - He grinned. - "What do you say?"

"Harry..." - I sighed, squeezing his hand. - "Love. Before anything, there's something you need to know."

"You don't want me to go with you."

"No, babe. It's not that. I'd love you to move to England if that's what you want. This is something else. Please let me speak. I'm begging you. Let me tell you this once and for all."

"You're not breaking up with me?"

"No, butterfly." - I smiled sadly. - "I'd never. Just listen yeah?"

"Okay." - He frowned.

"I've been hiding something from you, and I'm really sorry I did."

"What is it?"

"I'm... I'm a well-known football player. I play for a very important England team, like, professionally. I even played at the worldwide cup. I'm kind of one of the best players in the present and... I'm very rich... even if I hate that word."

"What?" - He snorted, letting go of my hand.

"I'm not a personal trainer, I lied about that. I'm a professional football player and I'm you know... very famous around the world probably."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Yes. I'm... I play for Manchester United."

"How is that I never heard from you? I mean, my father always talks about football and oh... that's why you didn't want to meet them. Why did you want to keep it from me though? I don't understand." - He said, looking hurt but taking it better than I thought he would.

"Your father probably talks about Tommo. Which is my name in the football world." - I shrugged, Harry's face contorting in one of realization. - "And I didn't want anyone to know because people take advantage of me, my money, my contacts, anything really. I wanted a break from that, so I pretended to be a normal guy here. I needed a vacation. And then I met you and I couldn't let you know."

"You thought I was going to take advantage of you?"

"What? No."

"Do I look like I would take your money from you, Louis?"

"No! I know you wouldn't!"

"Then why? Why keep that secret for two months?!"

"Because you never treated me differently and I liked that! And also because I didn't want to drag you into it. And I just don't know! Okay? I was scared at first, and then I started to overthink it too much. I didn't know how you were going to react. But I knew that I was falling too deep for you and I tried! But then you wouldn't let me tell you!"

"I'm more mad at you for fucking lying to me. I'm your boyfriend, right? Or was that a lie too?"

"No, baby, that wasn't a lie. I really want to be with you. So badly."

"But you lied to me about something pretty important and massive in your life!"

"I've been trying to talk to you for weeks!"

"But I thought you were just trying to break up with me because of the distance! This? You could have just say it in the middle of whatever conversation and I would have been fine with it!"

"Are you fine with it?"

"Right now, no. I'm pretty mad. I've been thinking about you breaking up with me for weeks! I had nightmares about it."

"Fuck. Really? Baby, I'm so stupid."

"Yes. You fucking are." - He huffed, dropping the teacup on the nightstand fiercely.

We both fell into an uncomfortable silence that was making me really nervous.

"Harry..."

"No. Let me think."

"Okay." - I whispered.

I took a sip of my water and left the glass softly on the nightstand of my side, fidgeting with my hands until he broke the silence.

"Manchester, huh?" - He asked, staring at the wall in front of us, without looking me in the eye.

"Yeah." - I nodded.

"And Niall knows?"

"Since day one. He recognized me. He's the only one though. I told him not to say anything to anyone. So don't be mad at him."

"I'm not mad at him."

"Okay, good."

"That's why you didn't want pictures?"

"Yes."

"And couldn't you just tell me that? Instead of fucking let it become an argument? I would have understood!"

"I know. It got out of hand, and I'm deeply sorry."

"You better be." - He rolled his eyes, but took my hand back in his', intertwining our fingers together.

"This means?" - I asked, hopeful.

"This means that now I have a fucking famous boyfriend." - He smirked.

"Really?"

"I came here to tell you I had decided to go with you. That I've been going through my options because I couldn't, neither I wanted, to be without you, and that I was willing to move to another country so I didn't have to suffer from losing you. I think I can handle you being a football star."

"Are you joking with me?" - I laughed. - "God, I love you."

He grinned and leaned over to kiss my lips.

"Missed kissing you."

"Fuck, me too. So much." - I whispered into his lips, kissing him again.

But then, he separated from me with a frown on his face.

"Louis?"

"Yeah?"

"How rich are you?"

"Very?" - I answered, doubtful.

"It was you, right?"

"What?"

"The donation. It was you?"

"Oh. Shit. Yeah." - I sighed. - "I'm sorry."

"I can't fucking believe it." - He said, rapidly getting rid of the blankets and standing at the feet of the bed. - "I didn't need your money. Why would you fucking do that?"

"Because... because you said... look, I know I did wrong and I should have told you."

"I didn't need or want your money! And now I spent it on things I didn't need! I fucking hired an employee with that, I can't give it back to you!"

"I don't need it back, baby."

"Oh no. Don't call me baby right now, I'm going to murder you. I swear."

"Harry, please. I'm sorry." - I said as softly as I could, standing up from the bed and walking towards him.

"I can't believe it." - He sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry! You gave me that money because you pitied me! We weren't even together back then!"

"I don't pity you."

"Yes, you do! You think I'm a charity case! Well, I'm not."

"No, please. I don't believe that. I just wanted to help you. I'm sorry for doing it behind your back."

"I really don't like you right now."

"Sorry."

"Just stop it." - He said firmly.

I nodded and looked down at my feet without knowing what to do.

Harry sighed and shook his head.

"I can't be here." - He whispered.

"You're leaving?" - I asked, looking up at him again.

Harry nodded in response and left the room without looking back.

"Harry, wait."

"No. Just don't."

He looked at me one last time, and then he was out of the flat.

With a pain on my chest, I sat on the floor of my living room, looking at the door just in case he returned.

But he didn't.