Often - The Weeknd (Kygo remix)

"I usually love sleeping all alone. This time around bring your friend with you...
Ask me if I do this everyday. I said, Often."

ISABELLA

"But you already knew that since she cheated on him with you."

The words taste bitter on my tongue. The sinking feeling that had been there the moment that Chase told me - or, rather yelled at me, returns. God, I felt so stupid. I should have known. I should have fucking known that he was only using me for his own sick game and amusement. I had genuinely believed that he did everything that he did because he liked me. That he had a real interest in me. This isn't high school, we're not children.

I guess we all have been acting a little immature.

"Isabella," he reaches his hand out to touch my knee. I back away from his touch. It stings my skin, the same electricity that doesn't seem to waver between us burns me alive.

"No. Please, don't." I wrap my jacket closer to my body, the ice cold air biting my cheeks. I bite down on my lip, not wanting the burning tears that fill my eyes to flow down. The last thing that my heart needed was to cry. Not now. Not over this.

"So what now. You're going to stay with your precious little boyfriend even though he fucking lied to you about this. That he didn't even tell you that he had a fiancee and that he basically was substituting you for her." His angry words stick through my heart like a sharp knife. Don't cry, Izzy. Don't cry. Harry stands to his feet, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He turns around so that he is now facing me fully. He moves so that he is now standing in front of me. "I don't know what you want me to tell you Isabella."

I look up at him. My eyes searching his. The vibrant greens of his irises have dimmed. The anger that he was feeling clearly overtaking his every emotion. "Tell me why you kissed me. The real reason."

Harry scoffs at me. His hand running through his messy curls while the other holds tightly to his hat. "Whatever I tell you, you're not going to believe me." He lets out a long sigh. His teeth bite down on his lip as if he is trying to calm down his anger. "I kissed you because I fucking like you."

I laugh. I don't mean to but that sentence sounded hilarious coming from his lips. If you like someone, you don't fucking kiss them, especially when you know that they have a boyfriend. Even more so when you have done this before. "Right. Sure you do." I roll my eyes in annoyance. All of this was too much. Way too much.

"Fuck!" He yells, his foot kicking a stray pebble. Harry crouches down in front of me. His hands holding onto the bench on either side of me, trapping me in. "Listen to me. Okay? Just fucking listen to me." He says, his breathing growing erratic with each breath that he takes.

"When I first met Chase, it was when we were still living in Manchester. He was a real asshole but best mates with my brother. I saw him all the time. One day he came over with Arabella to our house. She was fucking hot, I give him that, but I hadn't planned on doing anything with her."

"Right," I scoff.

"Damn it. Just listen okay?" He lets out another frustrated breath before speaking once more. "I didn't want to do anything with her. I told you, I wasn't the relationship kind of guy. I was a fuck and go, but I still had my limits. That night we had a lot to drink and she gave me her number. I wasn't going to do anything with it because I never wanted to be the kind of guy that fucked another guys girl." He takes a deep breath. His eyes search mine to make sure that I'm listening. I don't say or do anything but he continues anyway.

"One day, Chase and I got into a fucking huge argument. He was being the typical arrogant prick that he always is and I had it. I fucking had it. So, I called Arabella up and we hooked up that night. I was done with her that one time but she kept calling me when she'd get drunk and we'd fuck. Even after they got engaged. I hated Chase so much that I didn't care if I was messing with his girlfriend. If you mess with me, I'm going to mess with you. Arabella was just convenient."

"That's awful."

Harry takes a deep breath. His eyes studying mine. I don't look away or show the discomfort that I am feeling. I needed to know. As much as I didn't want to. Even tho I'm angry and frustrated with this whole situation, I needed to hear this from him. "It was a week before they were going to get married. She came up to my place in Manchester and went on about how she had fallen in love with me or some shit. I laughed in her face. I couldn't care less about her."

"You're an asshole."

"Well, I never said I was an angel." He states as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I told her that I didn't want to have anything more with her than what we were doing. She got mad and made a big scene at their rehearsal dinner. She told Chase that she was cheating on him with me and that she didn't love him anymore. She said to him that she was done and didn't want to marry him."

"What happened after that?"

"They broke up and called off the wedding. Chase came to my flat that night, completely drunk and started yelling at me about how I fucked his girl and all that. We got into a fight and ever since then he's had an out for me. Told me that he was going to get me back."

"Did he?" I ask him, my heart beating at full speed.

"Yeah. He had you."

In that moment my heart beat stops. My hands grow sweaty and my eyes search his. "What?"

"He knew that I was interested in you. I never had to tell him, he could just fucking tell. I've never felt this way about any girl before so I'm shit at hiding it. He knows that I am no good for you and that I'm not worth your time. That day when he asked you out when you left the bookstore, he saw me leave. He bombarded me with questions and if I was fucking you. Everything that he did was to get back to me. He's an ass, Izzy. A major ass."

I take in everything that he says. Every word that he speaks and every emotion that is showcased behind cloudy green eyes. My mind is racing. None of this made sense but at the same time, it all did. I should have known that Chase was too good to be true. I should have listened to all of those warning signs. I should have listened to that pestering gut feeling I had whenever I'd think about him and our relationship.

Chase used me. He used me to get back at Harry for ruining his relationship with Arabella. I was just a toy to him.

I felt the familiar taste of bile seep up my throat. The taste burns my tongue. I bite my lip, holding back the tears of embarrassment and regret. I fell into his trap and did the exact same thing that Arabella did. But I couldn't help but wonder if Chase knew that I would do that all along.

"I need to go." I sit up quickly, pushing Harry out of my way in the process. He stumbles on his feet but quickly catches himself.

"Where are you going?" He asks as he gently wraps his hand around my arm.

"Home. I need to process this. I can't be here. Not with you." I avoid looking at his eyes. My heart was breaking. All I wanted to do was be alone, with a pint of ice cream and a sickeningly sweet John Hughes romantic comedy. Most off all, I needed to call Nat.

This was why I never wanted to be in a relationship. This was exactly why I spent my days with Ty, in the confines of his bedroom in his cramped Brooklyn apartment with his arms safely around me. I trusted Ty. Even though our relationship was strictly physical when it came to a "relationship", he was still my best friend. I knew that he wouldn't hurt me which is why I never gave any other man my heart.

It broke me to know that the moment that I finally did, I gave it to the wrong person. In turn, I got hurt, chose the wrong guy and am more broken than I was from the start.

I should have chosen Harry from the beginning. I knew I wanted him from the moment I met him at the bookstore but I allowed my own insecurity and stubbornness from starting anything. Now, my stubbornness is holding me back from giving him my heart now, because all I can think about is whether or not he is only doing this to get back at Chase.

My mind needed to rest. It needed to process and to think. It needed to go back to the start and remember why I am here in the first place; why I chose to move to London.

"Please," Harry grabs my arm and pulls me to his chest. "Don't leave."

I take a deep breath. My heart is beating erratically inside my chest. "I can't-"

"No." He says, his voice harsh. He takes note of my face and the way my body flinches to his rising voice. "No," he says again. This time, his voice softer. "Please. I don't know what's going on in your head right now. But listen to me. I like you, Isabella. Too fucking much. Give me a shot. I want you. I fucking want you and I've waited for you to find out the truth. Don't go back to your boyfriend." He pleads, his eyes search mine.

"Chase isn't my boyfriend anymore," I say under my breath.

His grip on my arm loosens, his eyes widening. "He's not?"

"Why would I stay with him."

He nods his head once before wrapping his arms around me. He brings his forehead down so that it is touching my own. "Give me a chance to prove to you that I'm worth your time."

"You don't believe in relationships." I whisper to him. My eyes refuse to make contact with him.

Harry shakes his head. He releases a low chuckle; his dimple resurfacing. "I do if it means being with you. Only you."

My heart beats quicker in my chest. I'm sure he could hear it. "I need time to think," I say to him gently, even though everything in me is a rigid mess.

Harry looks at me, studying my face. His brows furrow and his lips purse together. "Fine," he says to me. His hands reach up to my face, cupping my jaw. He leaves a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering against the skin. His hot breath fans my skin. My skin reacts to his lips with a fresh layer of goosebumps. "I'm not going to go anywhere. That's a fucking promise, Isabella."

I nod my head slowly, my eyes fluttering open. His grip on my face loosens. He takes a step back, his eyes studying my soul. With one last swift nod, Harry turns around, leaving me in the middle of the park, alone with only my thoughts.

HARRY

Heat. A burning flame of desperation, heartbreak, and the bone-crushing numbness caused by her distance engulfs my entirety. It mixes with the heavy aroma of my own guilt and regret.

The flat is stuffy. The heavy stench of weed and alcohol fill every crevice of this tight space. I look around at what surrounds me. Bodies are spread about and cups of unknown substances in hand. I reach out for my own glass, allowing the burning sensation of cheap vodka to take me under.

"Harry, mate. This flat is sick." I look over at my friend Kit. He scratches his shaven head with his free hand, his other being occupied by his newly rolled up joint. "Dias gave you this?"

"Yep," is all I say. My mind isn't here. The only reason I allowed this fucking get together at my place was so that I could get my hands on the good weed. Kit had an in with this guy who grew the best stuff. After the week that I've had and Isabella's sudden decision to step back so that she could "sort out her feelings" has left me with the need to get high. Very, very high.

Two girls, Adira and Pippa, begin to sway back and forth to the hypnotizing rhythm of some R&B song. Kit and I keep our eyes on them, their bodies in sync as they move fluidly to the music. "Mate, what's wrong with you?"

My eyes break it's contact. I look over at Kit, who's green eyes are now a bloodshot red. "What?"

"You seem out of it," he chuckles as he takes another hit.

"No shit. I'm fucking high." Dumb ass.

He shakes his head as he places the now finished stub of his unlit joint on a neighboring tray. "No mate. You've been out of it all fucking week. What's going on?"

My eyes stay trained on the people around me. Maze and Toby, Kit's other friends from the bar are sitting across the room on a beat up couch. They are preoccupied with three other girls on their laps and alcohol on their tongues.

"It's a girl, isn't it. Who's the bird?" Kit nudges my shoulder with his elbow. A growl escapes my lips.

"There's no chick."

"Bullshit."

Pippa looks over at me. She flips her dark brown hair, her eyes trained on me as she sways her hips back and forth. She bites down on her lip her hips sway down to the floor and back up. Her eyes don't leave mine her body grinds against Adira's.

"Isabella," I say under my breath but loud enough for Kit to hear.

"Fuck. Sounds exotic. Probably a really good fuck too." He laughs. My head quickly snaps towards him. I feel every fibre of my body grow stiff. My eyes narrowing as if to say, I will fucking kill you. He get's the hint, his hands raised in surrender, before he smirks one more time. "You have it fucking bad."

I remain silent, my eyes now looking at my cell phone. No missed calls.

"This isn't like you, mate, getting all worked up over some chick. You need to forget about her and get laid." I ignore his cocky smirk and continue to scroll through my phone. I land across a text message that was sent back in the summer.

I am ashamed that you haven't heard Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon album. And you call yourself a classic rock fan. For shame. I could picture her little pink lips forming into a smirk as she typed. The way her forehead crinkled and cheeks blushed whenever her misspelt word autocorrected to something obscure and probably very inappropriate.

"Harry," two hands slide down my chest. Red manicured fingers push open my already unbuttoned shirt. I look up and see Pippa. Her dark eyes piercing as they stare down at me. "Why so glum?" She cocks her head to the side, a devious smirk plastered on her dark cherry painted lips.

"Fuck off, Pip." I take another sip from my glass. My mind is clouded as the alcohol overtakes me. My sober thoughts long gone.

"Oh baby. Don't say that." She laughs. I quirk my head to the side to see Adira straddling Kit. He has an arrogant look on his face as he attacks Adira's lips with his. I groan as they begin to make out on my couch.

Pippa straddles my lap. She hitches her skirt up higher, revealing her black lace thong. A groan escapes me as she grinds into my lap. "Come on H. You weren't complaining about this a few months ago. If I do recall, you were very, very content with this."

She begins to kiss my neck. Her hands tracing patterns on my exposed skin. Without my consent, I can feel my jeans grow tighter. She smirks as a reaction to my body's own reaction. "Thought so," she breathes into my ear. She grabs my hands and run them under her shirt and towards her breasts.

Her lips meet mine. They taste like cigarettes, weed and unknown alcoholic substances. The way her lips feel on mine is a vast contrast to the soft feeling of Isabella's. Even though we are not together, I cannot help but feel guilty for doing this.

I push Pippa off of me. She falls off of my lap on on the couch. Her eyes widen in disbelief as I get up from the couch and walk towards my bedroom. I can hear her chasing after me, her raspy voice calling out my name. "Harry! Where are you going?"

I don't answer her. The need to do so is not as strong as my need to leave the room. I walk into my bedroom. The only thing inside being my mattress and a pile of unwashed clothes. I hear the door shut behind me. My clouded, drunken mind is spinning. I feel nauseous and exhausted.

"Why are you running away like this?" She purrs into my ear, her hands wrapping around my torso. Pippa's hands run up and down my body and under my shirt. If I was sober, I would push her the fuck away. But my body is paralyzed by my drunken decisions. I feel her hands move away from my chest and towards the zipper of my jeans. "Come on baby. For old times sake."

From that moment on, everything else is a drunk and messy blur.