AN: Lmao I just realized they have fights every ten chapters...oops.

Anyways, enjoy this chapter :)
There's not going to be a lot of dialogue...mainly Harry's thoughts.

This chapter hurt to write. I normally never tear up and cry while writing...but this...this actually made me cry. Maybe I'm just being dramatic but if I cried, that's saying something bc I never cry while writing.

ALSO 15K HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS THANK YOU!!

Love you all bunches <3

Let's enjoy a little bit of heartbreak, shall we?

~Alex

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Harry's P.O.V

"You can't just walk out like this."

"Oh, yeah?" She challenges me, raising her eyebrows before flinging the door open, the cold air from outside washing over us instantly.

"Watch me."

And then the door slams shut behind her.

I remain quiet and still for a few seconds, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Then it all hits me about what I just did.

"Fuck!" I scream, punching the door with my fist before threading my fingers through my hair, tugging harshly at the roots as I pace back and forth.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave...

"Harry," Gemma says softly, resting her hand on my shoulder.

I instantly shake off her touch, my stomach churning at the thought of anyone touching me right now. I didn't need their touch.

I needed Aurora.

"Harry," Mum says this time and I look up to meet her sympathetic eyes, "Darling, go after her."

"I-I can't," I whisper in despair, looking at the door once again.

She left and I can't go after her. She's gone and I was too scared to go after her. I was too big of a fucking wimp to open that door and run after her.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

"Why can't you?" Gemma questions me as I continue to pace back and forth, back and forth.

My trembling hands tugged tightly at the roots of my hair, tears brimming in my eyes as I kept glancing from the floor to the door.

Why couldn't I?

Why the hell couldn't I?

Looking up in defeat and letting my hands fall to my sides...I feel myself break, "I don't know. Fuck, I don't know."

What type of man does that make me? Not having the guts to go after the girl I love. Letting her walk away from me after I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

Gemma and mum both share quick looks, worry and concern clouding their gazes once their eyes settled back on me.

The anger that once filled Gemma's eyes had now disappeared, softness filling the chocolate-colored hues of her irises. Our argument from earlier seemed to turn into vapor as she realized I didn't need to be yelled at. I didn't need to be criticized for not telling them about Maria. I didn't need to be reminded that I comforted her as I watched Aurora break in front of me.

I needed Aurora.

"Why did you tell her to leave if you didn't want her to, honey?" Mum once again speaks up.

"I-I...I don't know, mum," my voice trembles and I press the palms of my hands against my eyes, taking in shuttering breaths as my brain begs me to run after her. Everything in me was screaming at me to just open the door and run after whatever cab she had gotten in until I caught up.

But my legs couldn't seem to move from the line I had paced and my hands couldn't seem to reach for the door. I felt as if I had no control over my body while my mind screamed, begged...pleaded me to just go after her.

But why the hell couldn't I?

I was breaking as I started to resent myself. I hated myself for not being able to run after her, my hands once again finding their way back into my hair and tugging at the unruly curls, gritting my teeth as I focused on not collapsing to the floor.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

"Do you want me to make you some tea, maybe?" Mum asks softly.

"No. I just want to be alone," I breathe out before pushing past them, rushing up the stairs the same as Aurora had done not too long ago.

A sob escapes my lips before I can reach my old bedroom, causing me to clamp my hand over my mouth to muffle the other that followed. Hot tears pour down my cheeks as I bit my hand, forcing myself to keep it contained until I made it into my room. I didn't need them to hear me sound even more broken than I already was.

My hand meets the doorknob and I quickly throw it open, wishing I could've done the same with the door downstairs that led me back into the arms of the one I love. The door slams behind me and I barely make it two steps inside of the room before my knees buckle and I collapse onto the floor, sobs wracking my body while I bury my face in my hands and my knees press harshly into the floorboards.

And who was I the one to be crying right now?

I was the one who had just screwed everything up. It wasn't Aurora...it wasn't Maria...it wasn't Gemma.

It was me.

I was the one who wasn't honest in the first place. I was the one who contacted Maria first. I was the one stupid enough to let Maria back into my life while I had just let a miracle in at the same time. I was the one who went to that stupid club and let myself get carried away with Maria, the thought that Aurora might be at the same one never even crossing my mind. I was the one who let her walk away that first time.

I was the one who reminisced in old memories, taking a walk down memory lane that didn't need to be walked down. I was the one who let all of my frustration out on Aurora. I was the one who comforted the wrong person...the completely wrong person. I was the one who stood by as she broke again right in front of my eyes, only at arms reach, yet I was holding somebody else in my arms. I was the one who put all the blame on her. I was the one who told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

"Fuck," I whimper while bringing my knees up to my chest, finding it harder and harder to breathe as relentless tears fell from my eyes and heartbreaking sobs escaped my quivering lips.

My heart ached for her. My lips begged to be encased in hers. My fingertips itched to touch her skin. My body craved her unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

I needed her. I needed my Flower. I needed to hear her call me Capolavoro a thousand times. I needed her to tell me that she loves me. I needed her to tell me that I was beautiful.

But I didn't deserve any of that.

I was pathetic. Completely worthless. Broken.

How could I inflict such pain on such a beautiful creature and just watch it happen in front of my eyes while not doing a damn thing? The only thing I could do was yell and accuse her for things that weren't her fault.

She didn't even want me to touch her.

The way she flinched and ripped herself away from my grip sent shock wave after shock wave of pain through me. Even when I tried reaching out for her, she stepped away, a sickened look forming her beautiful features.

"Fuck!" I scream this time, rising from my pitiful position on the floor to start pacing the room.

My hands wrap themselves around the lamp on my beside table, ripping it from it's socket and hurtling it across the room, sighing in satisfaction once I hear it shatter into a million little pieces. I started seeing red as I continued to grab breakable things and throw them against the wall, each sickening thud or piercing shatter only adding more fuel to my raging fire.

"This is all your fault!" I scream at myself as I continue to grasp whatever my eyes landed on first, "You told her to leave!"

Another lamp.

"You told her to leave!"

A picture frame.

"You told her to leave!"

Another picture frame.

"You told her to leave!"

Her empty coffee mug she had accidentally left in here this morning.

"You told her to leave."

The vase that held the flowers she had picked from the garden yesterday.

"You told her to leave."

The note and hydrangeas I had left on the pillow yesterday morning.

"You told her to leave," I whisper, my knees once again giving out as I sat on the bed, staring at the tiny note and small cluster of hydrangeas in my shaking hands.

'I'll see you later, my Flower. I can't wait to match with you this evening and I know you're going to look absolutely stunning. I love you. Love, H'

A note.

Letters, words, sentences, and paragraphs. All meant for someone to read at some point.

Her note.

Those letters, words, sentences, and paragraphs dancing their way into my mind as more tears formed in my eyes. The ones I knew I wasn't supposed to read yet but couldn't help myself, needing to know what was causing her such pain and heartbreak.

They seemed to be permanently ingrained into my mind and danced their way across the back of my eyelids every time I closed my eyes. Those words haunted my dreams and even haunted me while I was wide awake.

They scared me...terrified me.

I didn't know what to think when I first read her note. It was like my brain couldn't fully wrap itself around what I was reading. I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want it to be true. But as I kept reading it over and over again, I knew it was real. What I was reading wasn't fake. I wasn't hallucinating.

I knew I shouldn't have read it until she gave it to me. I shouldn't have touched the notebook resting on the pillows with the pen still stuck inside, resting in between page ten and eleven.

Then I saw the ring.

The ring I had given her on the plane. The one I told her to wear until she decided she didn't want to wear it anymore. The one she promised to wear forever.

It was now resting on the nightstand, not a single note resting beside it.

It was just there.

That's how I knew it was really over.

And so as I was sitting on my childhood bed, I felt my entire body go numb. The tears stopped falling and my eyes stayed glued to the wall in front of me. My cheeks burned as my tears dried themselves onto my skin and my chest hurt while I refused to breathe properly. Once bright colors turned to grey and my happiness seeped away from me and made its way to the floor, oozing between the cracks of the floorboards and disappearing from me forever.

I told her to leave.

I was numb. Completely numb.

Time seemed to slow as I felt the weight of the world dropping itself onto my shoulders, suffocating me inside and out.

I told her to leave...and she left.

"She's gone," I whisper, not believing the words that had just fell from my lips, "My Flower."

Those words now seemed to linger in the air around me. They suffocated me. They suffocated me even more than the heavy weight of the world bearing itself down on me as the last of my happiness bled through the floorboards.

My Flower. She was gone.

The note falls from my fingers and floats down to the floor, twisting and flipping, twirling and gliding, until it lands facing down.

Words are scribbled on the back and I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, leaning down to pick it up.

'You'll always be my Capolavoro. Forever and always. I love you, Harry. Love, Aurora'

Her Capolavoro.

Her masterpiece.

Her masterpiece that was me.

And yet it was a now a title I didn't deserve.

I was just a pathetic piece of art sitting in a thrift store, holding no significance or meaning.

Worthless. Broken. Forgotten.

Collecting dust as nobody payed attention to the broken frame and imperfect flaws.

Worthless. Broken. Forgotten.

Rotten inside and out and decaying around the edges, becoming so unappealing to where not a single eye would cast a glance it's way.

Worthless. Broken. Forgotten.

"Worthless...broken...forgotten," I mumble to myself, bringing the paper up to my mouth and pressing my lips against her words.

I squeeze my eyes shut and feel more tears travel slowly down my cheeks.

I told her to leave.

I told her to leave.

Lying down on my back with the paper still pressed to my lips- tears now falling from the corners of my eyes -my heart slowly breaks into even more pieces inside my chest. I feel every single piece break off and crumble into a pile of nothingness.

I don't hear the loud sobs falling from my lips and intoxicating the air around me or my gut-wrenching screams of agony and loneliness.

I don't feel myself curl into a tiny ball and grab her pillow, inhaling her lingering scent which only draws more sobs and screams to spill from my mouth and echo around the house.

I didn't know that my mother and sister where listening to everything downstairs with tears pouring down their face.

I only felt the way her hand brushed through my hair or lightly traced my lips, my imagination trying to ease the pain that was filling my heart.

I heard her whispering in my ear and pressing her lips to mine, telling me she loves me over and over again.

And through it all, the only thing I could seem to think about was why I didn't go after her. Why I didn't force myself to run out the door and stop her from leaving me. Why I didn't just admit that I was wrong.

I should be getting on that plane and convincing her I didn't mean what I said. I don't want her to fuck off. I don't want her to leave. I didn't want her thinking I wanted her to leave me.

I love her.

My Flower.

My happiness.

My muse.

My everything.

But I was worthless. Broken. Forgotten.

"Harry."

"Hi, Flower," I mumble, my eyes now playing tricks with me as I see her lying down beside me.

"Hi, Capolavoro. You look beautiful today," she smiles lovingly at me, bringing her hand up to trace my cheek, the feeling only just barely satisfying my need for her.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Aurora Honeycutt, the florist, says to me.

"I don't want you to leave me. I didn't mean it," I whisper, relishing the way her ghost of a touch traces the outline of my lips.

"I know, baby. I know."

"Then why did you leave me?"

"Because that's what you do when you love someone. You let them go...even if you know they don't mean it."

"I want you to come back," I beg, "Please come back to me. Come love me."

She smiles, "I did come back. I'm right here."

"No you're not. You're not real."

"Then come get me."

And then she's gone once again, leaving a trace of flowers and honey lingering in the air, mixing perfectly with my heartwrenching sobs and desperate screams for her to come back to me.

Time continued to pass by and my throat became raw, only small whimpers spilling from my trembling lips as the tears kept coming.

I didn't move. I didn't get up and go to the airport. I didn't go get her.

And I hated myself for it. I hated myself because I knew who I was. I was a terrible, pathetic person who didn't even have the guts to run after her.

I wasn't beautiful like she said I was.

I didn't deserve her love.

I was worthless.

I was broken.

I was forgotten.

Finally closing my eyes, welcoming the stinging pain, my mind runs rampant as memories I shared with Aurora flash through my mind.

The first time I saw her.

When I saw her again sipping wine, wearing a golden dress that complimented her skin tone perfectly.

The way her skin looked impeccably soft surrounded by all of the petals in her flower shop.

A beaming smile as she tells me a funny story while we eat pizza and sip on wine.

Her glowing emerald eyes gazing at me from over the petals of a white rose.

Hair blowing in the wind as her eyes danced across the pages of her book.

Tender skin brushing mine with a cup of gelato resting in her hands.

Lilac definitely being her color as she laid underneath the sun.

Eyes shining brighter than a million stars right before her lips landed on mine.

Hundreds of memories that I've kept stored away now playing a movie in my head. It was heartbreaking but also relieving as her soft giggles echoed in my ears.

But I told her to leave.

She had already made up her mind before I even came into the room to talk to her.

She didn't need to be told to leave.

She had already made up her mind.

I told her to leave.

She decided to leave.

She's gone.

Worthless. Broken. Forgotten.