You had one of his arms around your shoulders, while Adam was hoisting up his other. “Careful,” you said gently as Harris nearly tripped over his own feet.

You got him settled on the couch before heading to the kitchen to fetch him some water.

“Do you need any more help?” Adam called.

“No, I got it from here. Thank you.” You gave Adam a small smile, walking back into the living room and trying to hand Harris the glass. He wouldn’t take it, so you sighed and set it on the coffee table.

“Alright, just call if you need anything,” Adam said, giving you a sympathetic smile. With that, he left the flat, closing the door gently behind him.

“Alright, Harris, let’s talk,” you said, sitting beside him. He didn’t acknowledge you. You sighed. “Tell me why you were drinking.”

He shrugged his shoulders, not looking at you.

“Harris, we have to communicate.”

Nothing.

“Harris.”

“Fuck, stop being so annoying,” he snapped.

“Harris, you have to talk to me or we won’t be able to work things out.” You tried to remain calm but your stomach was churning.

“Maybe it’s because seeing my girlfriend act like a whore makes me a little angry,” he seethed.

“What?” you gasped.

“You fucking heard me,” he quipped.

“Harris!” you scolded.

“God, (Y/N), leave me alone for once!” he yelled, his words slurred but his eyes piercing.

“Fine. I’m going to bed. You’re sleeping down here tonight. Tomorrow, we are talking about this.”

“God, you’re such a bitch! Just fuck off or just kill yourself, will you?”

You were speechless. Never in a million years had Harris talked to you that way. This was not your Harris. This was a stranger.

You ran upstairs to your bedroom and began packing your things.

Harris would not wake to see you in the morning.