Teenage Dirtbag

27. Bruise

Harry’s POV

After talking to Louis, he exited my room to leave Taylor and I alone.

This was the first time she had been in my ‘bedroom’, if you could even call it that. To me, it was just a place that I stayed.

“I’m so glad that we got that off of our chests.” I told her, scooting over on my bed and patting the empty space to tell her I wanted her to lie down with me.

“Me too. I’m glad you’re so understanding of him. If Zayn ever told Liam, Liam could never even look at Zayn again.” She replied, climbing into bed. She was careful not to touch my leg.

“I could never do that to Louis. He and his family have done too much for me to let his sexuality get in the way of our friendship. I was so worried though, Taylor. I thought he was going to make up an excuse to have his family kick me out and put me back on the streets.” I replied, putting my arm around her.

“Louis would never do that to you no matter how hard he tried. Like I said, that look he gives you… I can just see in his eyes that he’d do anything for you.” She said, playing with her nails and looking around the room.

We sat silently for a moment and I was unsure of what to say.

I spoke after a while, and for a moment I wondered if I was even in control of what I was saying.

“Do you think I look at you like…? Because everything you say about Louis and his feelings towards me is exactly how I feel about you.”

A smile grew on her face before she spoke. “You know… I’ve never really taken notice. But now that you ask… Yeah. There’s something in your face when you see me that makes me feel like I’m the most special girl in the entire world.”

I smiled down at her and kissed her lips softly. When we pulled apart, the expression on her face changed.

Something was wrong.

“Taylor, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“My mom. She wants to know everything behind why Niall was after you… And I’m just not ready to tell her everything. I’ve tried to stall, but tonight my dad and brother are going to a baseball game and we’re going to be alone. I don’t think I’m going to be able to get around it…” she said. I could tell she was trying to hold back tears.

“I know it’s going to be hard, Tay, but I know that you can do it. It’s a hard thing to talk about. I’m surprised you even told me.” I said, softly running my fingers through her hair to comfort.

“With you, it’s so much easier to talk about because you’ve gone through hard times as well. It’s something we have in common. But my mom… I don’t know how she’ll take it. She thought Niall was perfect. She used to joke about the two of us getting married, and she thought we were perfect for each other. When she finds out the truth… I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You can do it. I believe in you. And if you want, you can call me when you’re done talking and you can blow off some steam. I’ll get your mind off of it.” I said, smiling at her.

She smiled back up at me. “Thank you. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“It’s no problem.” I replied.

With that, she leaned in to kiss me and as it heated up, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close as we kissed.

As our tongues fought for dominance, I moved one of my arms from her back and softly ran my fingers down her arm, ready to intertwine our fingers when our hands met.

But suddenly, she pulled away and took a deep breath. She looked concerned, or scared maybe.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, swiping a piece of her hair behind her ear as we laid next to each other on my bed.

“It’s just…” She couldn’t finish what she was saying. Suddenly, she was pulling up her long sleeve shirt, revealing a bruise where I had just ran my fingers down her arm.

It was a perfect outline of Niall’s fingers on the part of her skin just above the elbow.

I couldn’t help but gasp at the size and color. How could someone do that to her? I suddenly wanted nothing more than to march up to the jail, get into Niall’s cell and beat the shit out of him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I replied, softly grabbing her wrist to get a better look at the bruise.

“This isn’t really a new one either. It’s about 3 weeks old.” She softly said. “It’s the worst one I’ve ever gotten. He got angry because I wasn’t screaming his na-“ she couldn’t finish her sentence, and the look in her face told me that she had pictured the moment again in her mind and tears welled in her eyes.

“Shh. Don’t.” I softly said, leaning down and softly leaving a trail of kisses down her bruised, bare arm. “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you like that again.”