GUYS! LITTLE THINGS GOT 100 NOTES…In fact, it’s currently at 101 notes! I am so so so so so incredibly happy, and extremely appreciative to everyone who read it, and everyone who said so many nice things about it. I’m really flattered and i just love all of you with all my heart. So thank you so so much!
As promised, I am going to post the alternate ending, and I’m going to write a PART 2 to the one shot I posted, where Ed gets the girl.
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So WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, I GIVE YOU THE ALTERNATE ENDING, in which Ed doesn’t find her diary, and Harry Styles ends up with the girl.
Little Things: Alternate Ending.
He sits in my empty hospital room near a small wooden desk that my black worn down notebook sits on. That same black notebook I did everything to keep away from him for so long. A diary, a collection of passages of how I ended up here, in this hospital, like this, so distorted. How could I do this to myself? Or to him? How can, after all this time, I not know that he loves me? He picks up the notebook, opens the cover, and starts at the beginning. This is what it feels like to be a ghost. This is what it feels like to be in love with Harry Styles.
Today we sat outside on a bench near campus. Your hand was in mine, my head on your shoulder. We talked about the weather and our future with a white picket fence and a house knee deep in material possessions and memories.
I was happy.
You were happy.
My life is perfect.
Nothing can get in the way of us.
Today we lay on your bed for almost 4 hours.
I wanted to watch the news on your old beat up TV.
I gave up fidgeting with the antennas and settled on white noise.
Your fingertips made small light circles on the protrusion of my hip bone.
You smiled and told me I was beautiful.
I heard you say it over and over and over until it merged with the white noise and became nothing but static.
We watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s today. You admitted, blushing and trying to hide your adoration, that Audrey Hepburn is your dream girl.
“Because she’s gorgeous and thin,” you reply.
I wonder how much you’d pay to sleep with her.
I wonder if you ever wish I was her.
I wonder what it would cost me.
What it would cost you?
It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? if it means feeling like this forever.
Tell me you love me again.
Tell me you think I’m beautiful.