Harry Styles Imagines and Preferences Book Two

Too Drunk To Drive

"What are you doing?!" You shout as you race into the bedroom, glass from the desk lamp shatters across the floor. The room is destroyed; everything broken. You sit your keys down on the dresser and try to approach Harry, a large bottle of Vodka in his hand. 

"Get out," he responds, his voice dark but calm, too calm for the situation he was creating. 

"Harry," you begin slowly, lowering your tone and approaching him slowly,

 "give me the bottle." Your request only receives a low chuckle from him as he makes his way over to your side of the bed. 

"No!" You say, your voice catching as he picks up the picture from your side table. It was a picture of the two of you last year at his mother's wedding and you cherished the memories it possessed. Before your body can allow you to take a step towards him, the frame is shattering on the floor. He picks the picture up amongst the broken glass, holding it close to his face, allowing his glazed eyes to focus. 

"This was some shit, wasn't it?" He says before ripping the picture in half. Your mouth drops in shock as your eyes begin to tear up at the lost memento. You stand in silence as the bottle in his hand finds its way to his lips. What was causing all of this anger? What had happened after you had left for work this morning? Was it the band? What could... 

"Didn't I tell you to get out?" His harsh question brings you from your thoughts. His eyes are glaring at you, the first time he had looked at you since you had walked in the room. 

"Why are you doing this?" You manage to get out, trying your best to stand your ground. Your voice is honest, not wanting to make the situation even worse. 

"You," he responds gravely. Your heart sinks. What had you possibly done to cause this sort of reaction out of him? His movement past you once again brings you from your thoughts. You follow him down the stairs. 

"What are you looking for?" You ask as he hastily wanders throughout the first floor. 

"Go away," he comments, causing you to halt your pursuit. He makes his way into the kitchen and you hear the sound of his keys. 

"NO!" You shout as loud as you can, racing into the kitchen after him. Your arms latch onto his, but he proves his strength over you.

 "Get off!" He angrily responds to your actions. 

"You are not leaving!"

 "Get off of me!" He tries his best to pull his arm through your grip but you only hold on tighter. 

"Whatever it is we can talk about it," you promise him, hoping your lowered tone would calm him. He takes another drink from the bottle before violently smashing it on the floor beside him, the remaining alcohol scattering on the white kitchen tiles. With one swift movement his arm is free from yours as you fall to the ground, your eyes full of tears as he walks to the door. 

"Harry please!" You shout after him, 

"Harry if you've ever loved me, ever, Harry please. Please don't leave!" Your cry do not faze him as he walks straight out the door. You quickly get up off of the floor, slipping on the alcohol, racing to the door. 

"Harry!!" You shout after him as he climbs behind the wheel of the large Range Rover in the driveway. You run over to his window, banging furiously, praying to God he would change his mind. 

"Harry, please," you plead, tears raining down your face.

 "Harry, for the love of God, please don't do this." He starts the car and panic consumes you. 

"Harry, no!" He stamps on the gas and the tires screech as he quickly exits the driveway. 

"No!" You shout hopelessly after him. You stand in the driveway, absolute shock overwhelming your body. You need to get inside and call someone but your body keeps you where you stand. It takes you a few minutes to regain control of your actions. You race back into the house, up the stairs, and to your bedroom to get your phone.