Harry.recs - Tumblr Posts
the other woman


synopsis: y/n is the other woman who just wants to be loved
word count: 5.5k
contains: angst, not a super happy ending maybe it is depending how u see it idk, harry is kind of a dick, mentions of medication, mentions of mental health (anxiety, allusions to depression), harry definitely listens to the 1975 in this, smoking, friends with benefits situation, toxic relationship
. . .
"That's the ugliest piece of shit I have ever seen."
"Yeah,"
"I love it."
"You do?"
"I adore it."
"Good."
Harry sat against the headboard of her bed which took up the majority of his tiny bedroom in his even tinier apartment an hour train ride from central London. He was shirtless, his trousers were unbuttoned and his hair was a dishevelled mess. He had a cigarette between his teeth, Y/N hated the way the smoke made the room smell but she would never tell him that.
She sat up against the wall, her legs on top of his. She wore cotton underwear and his shirt, the buttons weren't done up, his gaze switching between his sketchbook and her breasts. Her eyes were fixated on the picture in the center of the white A3 pages.
She didn't know what it was but it was black and white and looked like skin. She wondered whether it was his skin but she wouldn't have called it ugly. She had seen every inch of his skin and the last forty-five minutes was proof of that. Her lips had pressed against the most intimate of places, she would know if it was his skin.
"What is it?" She frowned, tilting it to one side to see if a change in perspective would enhance its features.
"It's an areola," He responded, releasing a sigh, almost as if he was frustrated she didn't know he had taken a picture of a woman's breast.
"A tit?" Her heart began to race as she thought about him taking pictures of her without asking.
He chuckles and puts out his cigarette on her bedside table, leaning forward to throw it out of the window. "It sounds less artistic when you say it." He leans back again and reaches for a strand of her hair to play with. "But yes it is a tit."
'Who's is it?' She wanted to ask 'When did you take it?' 'Is she pretty?' 'Why not me?'
She could feel herself slipping away, wanting to cover herself up the more she questioned him in her own head. She glanced down at her chest briefly.
"It's not you." His words stung more than they should.
"I know that." She pushed the sketchbook away, not wanting to look at the picture of another woman's areolas. "What for?"
"We're doing the human form." He answers,
"Right."
"You're upset."
"I'm fine." She argued but the truth was she was upset and she hated the fact he knew that immediately.
He was good at hiding his emotions, he always had that sense of mystery to him, her not so much. She was sensitive and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was desperate to fall in love and when she did, she felt it to her very core, her chest would ache at the thought of being isolated from human contact. Sometimes she felt he took advantage of that but if she were to admit that, she would have to leave him and she couldn't do that.
She would rather die than be alone, especially if it meant being away from the one person to who she had developed an unhealthy attachment since they had met.
Harry's phone went off and he quickly reached across her to grab it from his side table. She felt like someone was pinching her all over as he bit back a grin at whoever had sent him a text. Suddenly being naked around him felt wrong so she quickly reached for her clothing that had been discarded on the bedroom floor.
"You're leaving?" He asks.
"Who is it?"
"It's nobody." She knew him long enough to know when he was lying.
"How long have you been seeing her?" Y/N wasn't going to cry, she wasn't, she really really wasn't.
Harry rolled his eyes, "You're being dramatic," He always tried to make it seem as if her feelings were too big for the space around them.
"You're a fucking jerk you know that?" She pulled her trousers up her legs and didn't even bother to button them up as she went in search for her shoes. "You show me someone else's tits as soon as we finish having sex? And then you get a text message and don't even tell me who it is?"
"I don't know why you're getting so upset we agreed long ago this was just a temporary thing."
"Oh I know you remind me that every time, I like to remind myself every day I'm just someone to pass the time." Y/N was used to being someone made to be used by someone else. She could be bleeding on the floor in the middle of the street and she wouldn't be surprised if someone took a plastic bottle and started filling it up with her blood in hopes it could save someone else before they even thought about rescuing her.
The problem was, she didn't even try to stop them. People entered her life and took pieces of her and carried them away with them, just to discard them later. Before she even thought about healing herself, someone else would come along and snatch another piece of her away.
That was the problem with people who were afraid of living with no love in their life, they were prepared to do anything for it. Y/N put too much faith in people despite the number of times she had been let down by the people close to her.
Harry was no different to that it seemed.
"What are you talking about? Hey," He grabs her wrist and pulls her into him, his eyes were sharp and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eye. Her heart pounded at the touch of his fingertips grazing her pulse. "What do you mean? You don't really believe that do you?"
"What does it matter? I know nothing about you Harry."
"You know more about me than anyone else does."
Sometimes it didn't feel like it.
Harry liked to make her feel special. He was good at it. He sent her texts during the day and brushed his hand against hers when they passed in the hallways. They'd come back to his place after a few drinks with friends in the evening, fuck, and be done with it. He'd send her away and act as if what they did didn't matter to him.
It mattered to her though. No one thinks that about a rebound or a person you had casual sex with but it always matters. She had never slept around until she had met him and now she was intoxicated by him because it mattered, right from the very beginning.
She closes her eyes and nods, "Please tell me who it was." She almost pleads with him.
"It's the girl in the picture, she's in my photography class." He admits.
"Do you like her?" Y/N almost whispers, she braces herself for the answer. She had been dreading the day he was planning to end this, she thought she would have more time.
Harry's head falls back like it kills him inside to give an honest answer to her question, "I really like her."
Y/N pushes him back and finally cries in front of him, "Go to Hell."
"Y/N-" He tries.
"No," She moves away from him quickly and reaches for the door, "And for what it's worth I lied, that is the ugliest piece of shit I've ever seen and I hate it. It's ugly and you are an awful photographer."
She was glad she got that out as she slammed the door behind her on the way out.
An hour later she called him.
"Harry, I'm sorry," She whimpers and sobs into the phone. It was an ugly, heart wrenching sob as she cried to him on the phone, "I didn't mean to upset you. I don't think it's ugly at all. I'm sorry,"
"Hey love, it's okay, it's okay," He comforted her.
"I didn't mean it Harry please forgive me I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. Please, please, please, please." She said the words over and over again. Pleading for something that seemed like more than forgiveness.
"Y/N I forgive you, I promise. Please go to sleep." He asks her, he was worried for her but she had done this often enough he knew it wasn't anything serious.
"Promise?" She cries, sniffling.
"I promise,"
"Okay, I'm sorry Harry."
"I forgive you."
The call ended and Y/N lay back staring at the ceiling, her eyes burning from all the crying she had done since she got home from being with Harry. She turned over and took half a miligram of xanax and a sleeping pill, despite her doctor telling her not to, and fell asleep.
"Who was that?" Harry turned to look at the girl in the photo who was now lying on his bed. Her hair was flipped to one side, exposing her entire neck and collarbones.
"Nobody." He forced a smile on his face and walked over to her with his camera, the sounds of Y/N's pleading echoing in his head for the remainder of the night.
--
The next day, Y/N walked into the art room for her first class of the day. She took out her portfolio and sat at her table where she had been working on her next project. It was a painting she had been working on for the past few days and she wasn't near to being finished just yet.
Her eyes were swollen and red from having spent the majority of yesterday crying her eyes out. She skipped her therapy appointment and turned her phone off as she thought about how lonely she really was and how she had no one but herself to blame for putting herself in that situation.
Harry was also in this class but he hadn't turned up yet. The thought of him made her stomach twist. Picturing his smile as he told her about the girl he had been seeing, 'I really like her.' echoed in her head and she wondered what it would be like for him to say that about her.
"How's it going?" Ollie, a good friend of Y/N's, sat down at the easel and stool next to her and placed his backpack on the ground at his feet. He pulled out his pens and watercolor paints as he set up his station to paint.
"Fine." She muttered, reaching for her headphones in her pocket and putting one in her left ear.
"That doesn't sound good." He chuckled, shaking his head.
"I'm fine Ollie." She repeated, a little more hostile this time.
"Did you go to Harry's place yesterday? I tried to call you but it went straight to answerphone."
"What makes you think that?" She looked at him, tilting her head in curiosity.
"You have this look in your eye." He seems as if he doesn't want to go on but she waits for him to carry on speaking, "I don't know how to describe it... It's like someone's put light in your chest just to then suck the life out of you." He motions towards her painting, "Kind of like that."
She looked at her painting and stared at it. A woman sat in an empty room, a stream of light hitting her face from the window. Outside were people celebrating amongst vines and trees and flowers. The painting was a mixture of beiges and browns and green but the woman's eyes were black and lifeless... they were the saddest pair of eyes she had ever seen.
--
"Fuck," Harry groaned and fell on top of her, sweat beading his forehead as he left her and fell to her side. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind was blank and her chest was heavy.
Harry reached across her for his phone, "Shit." He muttered, shifting to the end of the bed and jumping to his feet.
"What?" Y/N asked, sitting up, the blanket falling to her waist.
"I didn't know what time it was, I'm late for my class." He pulled up his trousers and ran his fingers through his hair as he went in search for a shirt to wear on his bedroom floor.
"Hmm." She sighed and fell back, reaching for one of his cigarettes and fiddling with it between her fingers.
"Are you going to smoke that?" He nodded towards the cigarette.
"Would you like me more if I did?" She replied.
He frowned, "I'd like you just the same."
She stared at him, he was so pretty. He had just gotten out of bed and his hair was a mess, his shirt had a stain on and his trousers were undone but he was so beautiful. She wondered if he ever thought that about her, whether she was beautiful despite the ugliness and mess.
Y/N reached for a lighter, lit the end of the cigarette, and inhaled the smoke.
She didn't seem to mind the way it made the room smell this time because it was a reminder that he had actually been there in her presence even just for a brief few minutes. She stared at the empty room where he once stood.
--
Y/N remembered when she first saw them together. It was a Friday night and all the art students spent Friday night at a bar in Camden Town. Y/N and Harry weren't in the same friendship circle but they had friends that knew friends and that was really how they met.
She sat with Ollie on a couch as everyone else played pool. She had taken three shots of vodka and was on her first drink of the night. The door opened and they both walked in hand in hand. The girl was stunning, her legs were long and thin, her hair was thick and wavy, her eyes were innocent and shone underneath the lights of the bar and her hand was intertwined with Harry's.
They caught eyes for a brief second before Harry turned away from her and went over to the bar to order them a drink. Ollie was talking about something she wasn't paying much attention to as her eyes stayed fixated on them.
She noticed the way his hand pressed against her back at the bottom of her spine and how he brushed her hair behind her ear as they leaned against the bar waiting for their drinks. How she smiled as he whispered something to her and bit her lip as he traced the back of her hand with the tip of his finger.
Y/N realised the Harry standing in front of her was someone she had never met before. It was strange how we never really know the people we meet as they choose to present themselves as someone else depending on who they are with. It's only when you're with your person that you can truly be your authentic self. She wondered which version of himself was real. She even wondered which version of herself was real, who she was with him or who she was without.
"I'm going to go over there." Y/N slurred, moving off the couch but falling back again as the room began to spin.
"Oh no you don't." Ollie pulled her back. "I'm not going to let you embarrass yourself like that."
"Why would I be embarrassed?" He looked at her like she was supposed to understand what he was hinting to.
"You'll forgive me in the morning." He said like he had done her some kind of favour.
She did.
--
"When are you going to take pictures of me for your class?" She wondered, playing with the ends of her hair on his bed as Harry fiddled with the strings of his guitar.
"You want me to do that?" He asked.
"Why not? I think it would be fun." She thought for a moment, "What would you choose to take pictures of?"
Harry pondered on the idea, thinking really hard to come up with an answer to her question. She bit her lip to hold back a smile. She liked the idea of him scanning his memories for parts of her body he had seen. It made her happy knowing that pieces of her were ingrained into his mind like lyrics to a song or the colours of the rainbow.
"Your eyes." He answered after a while.
She frowned, not expecting the answer, "What?"
"Your eyes." He repeated.
"That's it?" Her eyes were the only part of her he thought worth photographing?
"Yeah."
"That's boring." She muttered, falling back against the mattress.
"What makes you say that?"
"You took a picture of that girls boob and you've probably taken a lot more pictures since you like her so much." He cringed and set his guitar down to look at her properly. Harry knew he had to be careful with what he was saying, he could tell by the tone of her voice she was getting upset.
"Those were the only pictures I took." He argued, "And besides, I like your eyes."
"You never look into them." She retorts.
"Of course I do."
"You don't."
A beat of silence rested between them until Harry spoke again, "Maybe when you're not looking."
"Why would you look at my eyes when I'm not looking?" She wasn't understanding anything he was saying.
"Because I love watching you watch the world." He replied. "If I don't know how I feel about something I look at your eyes and everything makes sense. Sometimes it feels as though I'm understanding the world through you."
Her face softened, her heart settled in her chest. She felt warmth spread through her like she had just received a warm hug. The corners of her lips tugged upwards and she crawled over to kiss his cheek. "That was possibly the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." She confessed, her heart expanding.
"Then you need to be surrounded by better people." He reached for his guitar. "Come sit here." He patted his thigh and she rolled off the bed to sit exactly where he asked.
He began to play a song on his guitar, gently singing the lyrics in a low voice. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.
It was one of those moments she wanted to freeze and stay in forever. Nothing else existed outside of this bubble. Her heart was happy.
--
Ollie's birthday was January 23rd and he was having a house party at his flat.
"How many people are coming?" Y/N asked as she applied mascara in front of his bathroom mirror. She was crouched down inside the sink so she could get as close as possible to the mirror.
"I don't know, I invited about twenty and said they could spread the word to whoever was available." OIlie applied aftershave as he spoke.
"So everyone?"
"Possibly."
Y/N was excited to see Harry. Although they didn't speak much outside of the confinements of his bedroom, she was still looking forward to being in his presence. Ever since their intimate moment, they shared a few days ago, she had been longing for him. Her heart sighed in bliss at the thought of being near him again.
She wanted to wear something extra special that she thought he would like. Her hair was curled, which she never normally did, she wore black, leather trousers and a black corset to go with it and black heels to make her slightly taller than she really was. She accessorised with gold jewellery and had done her makeup in a much more simple manner.
"You look like that girl." Ollie spoke as soon as she walked into his kitchen.
"What girl?" She blushed.
"The one Harry was with at the bar the other night. I mean, the outfit is hot but you never wear your makeup and hair like that."
"Geez would it kill you to just say I look 'good'?" She mumbled, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. She never normally wore her hair down as it irritated her.
Ollie's face softened, she hated the sympathy on his face, "You look fucking hot." He said, pulling her in for a hug, "Don't let anyone change that." He whispered.
People began to arrive around 10pm. Ollie's apartment filled up rather quickly and Y/N was already on her third drink of the night. She was stood talking to a few of her friends from one of her textile classes until her eyes caught sight of the curly-headed boy she had been waiting for.
She smiled, excusing herself from the conversation and shifting through the crowd to get to him. "Harry hey," She beamed but then immediately felt her happiness slip from her.
"Hey Y/N," His eyes were wide at the sight of her, he was so used to seeing her in her natural form.
Y/N didn't reply as her focus was fixated on the girl talking to some other people. The girl he had bought with her. The girl in the photo. "Are you okay?" Harry asked when she didn't say anything.
"I'm fine." She forced a smile on her face.
"We're not staying long. I just thought I'd stop by to see Ollie." Her heart deflated at the use of 'we', they were a 'we' now.
"Right, I'm sure he'll appreciate it." She nodded, reaching for another drink.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He checked with her.
"I'm fine. I just need to use the bathroom." Y/N pushed past him and made her way to Ollie's bathroom which was surprisingly empty.
"Are you okay?" Someone asked her from behind as she was about to step into the bathroom.
She turned around and came face to face with the girl from the photo. She looked even more beautiful up close if that were even possible.
"I'm fine." Y/N muttered, it seemed as though that was the only response she was giving anyone nowadays.
"Harry sent me to come and see if you were okay." She said, even her voice was soft and gentle, "He was worried about you."
Y/N scoffed, "What he couldn't come find me himself?"
"He was trying to find Ollie I think-" The girl sighed, "If you're okay, I'll go back and tell him."
"Before you go...Can I ask you something?" Y/N could hear the voice in her head screaming at her not to say anything but she had to know, she needed to know.
"Go ahead." The girl seemed irritated by Y/N, like she was wasting her time.
"Do you know who I am?" Y/N could feel her eyes burn as she asked the question.
The girl from the photo frowned, confused by her question, "What?"
"Do you know who I am?" Y/N repeated but this time more sternly.
The girl from the photo looked at her, really looked at her, narrowing her eyes as if to get a better look. "I have no idea."
Y/N's insides felt as though they were bleeding. It was almost like Harry was the only one who was keeping her stitched together but now everything inside of her had come loose from that one reply.
The girl from the photo hesitated before saying, "I'll go and tell my boyfriend you're okay."
Y/N looked at her as she walked away, completely crushed. She walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her, falling onto her knees and sobbing into her hands.
She hadn't realised how much power he had over her until this moment. How much she relied on him and how she couldn't picture her life without him. She trusted him too easily and that was nobody's fault but her own.
Her breathing began to pick up and she felt a strange sensation like pins and needles trickle along her skin. She pulled off her trousers and her corset until she was in nothing but her bra and underwear. She crawled into the bathtub and turned on the shower so cold water could reach her skin, all whilst hyperventilating and crying her eyes out.
This was unlike any pain she had ever felt. She wasn't sure why it had hurt so much but maybe it was because another person had used her, maybe this time it was because she gave every inch of herself to him and she had nothing but skin and bones left.
"Y/N are you in there?" His voice was muffled from behind the door.
"G-Go away." She whispered, rocking backward and forwards with her head tucked into her knees and cold water wetting her skin.
"I'm worried about you, love." His voice sounded so sad.
"Go away." She carried on chanting like this was a nightmare she wanted to wake up from.
She felt soft hands touching her shoulders and immediately looked up into green, sad eyes. For once Harry was easy to read as his eyes showed nothing but remorse.
He reached past her and turned the shower off, she was shivering and he reached for a towel to wrap around her shoulders in hopes it would provide some warmth.
They said nothing, Y/N didn't get out of the bath as it helped in providing a separation between them. "Why don't you love me like I love you?" She whispered. Her eyes looking into his, they were red and her face was stained with tears.
There was no point in denying things anymore, he was one of the only people who knew she was too clever for that, "I don't know," His head fell forward, he felt defeated.
"Why did you put me here?" She cried, "Why did you put me here if you were just going to leave me?"
"I-I thought you understood what this was. I thought-" He lied.
Harry knew Y/N better than anyone in her life. He knew better than to hurt her like this.
"Why does everyone leave me?" She whimpered, "Why can't I be loved?"
"Y/N-"
"Please tell me you love me. Please, please, please," She was begging him, crying into his shoulder.
"I-I can't Y/N." Never had her name sounded so disgusting coming from his lips.
"I don't know what to do anymore Harry. I-I would rather die than be alone," She sobbed.
"Y/N you're never alone."
"You're ending this." She cried, "I'm alone."
He couldn't stand having this conversation and not being able to hold her. He stepped into the bathtub fully clothed and sat in front of her, reaching for her hand and holding it gently in his. The feeling of his skin seemed to ease some of the pain she had been feeling, but the loneliness still echoed throughout her.
"I don't know why I can't love you, Y/N, but it doesn't mean I don't feel anything about you. You have become my best friend—"
"I don't want to be your best friend. No, no," she shook her head. "You've killed me once by admitting you don't love me. Please don't send me to Hell by calling me your friend. Do you know how painful that is? I just want to be loved by you. Is that too much to ask? I have given everything, I have given everything to you. I rooted for you in every way possible. I have killed myself trying to get you to love me, and I don't think I even know who I am anymore because of it."
Harry didn't know what to say. He was selfish and a coward and undeserving of her love, and he wished she could see that.
"Y/N—"
"Please just leave."
His eyes watered at the thought of going about his life without her. He could feel the air around them grow thick, his chest rising and falling as he tried to breathe in. He felt like he was drowning at the thought of her leaving his life. Despite not loving her in the way she desired, he realized he would also be alone without her.
Maybe that was it.
All along, they had just been two people dealing with loneliness and coping with it differently. One used the other to fill the gaps in the spaces where they felt most alone, and the other fell hopelessly in love in hopes it would change them. That was the true nature of it, and even if they were meant to be together at some point, now was not the time.
"Listen to me," Harry whispered, collecting her hands and holding them to his chest. "I'm going to leave."
She choked on a sob.
"I don't want to do that." She shook her head. "I just want to be with you." The thought of the loneliness seeped into her pores, and she didn't think it would be possible for her to stay afloat as she drowned in it.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said softly, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I-I don't know what I'm doing."
She was taken aback by his tears and was unsure of what to do. It was the first time she had seen him cry, the first time she realized he was equally as afraid as she was. She leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug, allowing him to cry into her shoulder.
This was the end.
"I love you, Harry. I really do," she whispered into his ear.
He couldn't reply, so he just sobbed even harder.
--
The days hadn't changed so much when Harry stepped out of Y/N's life.
They didn't talk much during the day when they were friends so Y/N went about carrying on her classes and speaking to Ollie who she appreciated more than ever as he comforted her when she was feeling at her worst. It was Ollie who made the days feel... a little less lonely.
She missed his touches and texting him on her phone but she tried to come up with ways to cope with that by watching youtube videos or drawing so she wasn't tempted to unblock him and forgive him again.
The nights were the hardest. Y/N hadn't realised that the only reason she'd been sleeping was because of Harry. She had tried to not take sleeping pills to help her get to sleep but sometimes she'd spend the entire night just painting in hopes it would made her tired.
Since they had some of the same friends now, Y/N knew of Harry's ventures through word of mouth. He had broke things off with the girl from the photo the day after Ollie's birthday party. Turns out they weren't really in an established relationship and the girl did know who Y/N was because Harry never stopped talking about Y/N when they were together.
That made her smile.
He was an assistant to a wedding photographer on the weekends so that he could save up some money for his own studio. She was happy to hear he was actually making the most of his talent instead of wasting it like she had considered doing multiple times.
Other than that, the days went by rather slowly and nothing out of the ordinary happened. She had been on dates here and there and was in her first real relationship in her third year of University but that only lasted a few months. Turns out he was cheating on her the entire time they were together which felt like one step forwards and two steps back.
Y/N moved into an apartment in central London after she graduated and did some freelancing as an illustrator whilst working weekends at a hotel and the evenings at a bar in Soho.
Her life was mundane but she was okay with that. She had spent so much time focusing on others that she forgot to focus on herself. She had started going to therapy, the gym, and even became vegetarian for a little while. She was no longer taking Xanax as often as she used to and spent less time thinking about Harry.
She wondered what he was up to from time to time but in the end, she just hoped he wasn't alone.