Damaged » h. styles au

Chapter 17 - Harry

warning: this chapter needs to be rewritten. I'll work on it and as soon as I repost it, I'll let you know.

                                                              17. 

                                                        ●•Harry•●

Kirsten. That was her name. Kirsten… It seemed to fit her nickname – Kirs as I heard Angel say a few times – but for some reason it didn’t fit her. She didn’t look like Kirsten. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful name, and she’s a beautiful girl, but still, I couldn’t picture someone like her with that name. Why did it even matter?

I shook my head while walking towards Mike, who stared at me with that confused look on his face.

“Where the hell were you? When I came back to the car you were no longer there,” he said, and I rolled my eyes at his words.

“You were taking too long and I needed some fresh air.”

“You scared the hell out of me, Haz. I thought someone had kidnapped you or something.” Mark sighed in relief and shook his head, looking at me with apprehensive eyes, still not believing I was standing in front of him. “What were you doing in the back of the club?” he now had that ridiculous grin playing on his lips, and I knew pretty much well what was going on inside his head.

“Sitting on a bench, Mark. Alone.” I had to lie to him, not wanting to say I was with Kirsten and feed his dirty thoughts. That guy had mental issues, I was pretty sure of that.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

We remained in silence during the walk back to the car, and also the whole way to Davie’s place. My head wasn’t aching that much anymore, thanks to the pills Kirsten had given me, so I didn’t complain when Mark turned the radio on, keeping the song playing in a bearable volume.

As he hummed the lyrics, I just leaned against the window and let my mind flow to the girl I was sitting next to a few minutes ago. She was definitely different from what she was the other two times we met and Angel wasn’t around. This time she was…  Gentle. On her own rude way, but still. She brought me the pills even if I hadn’t asked for it, and she noticed I wasn’t okay. If she noticed I wasn’t okay, was because she was paying attention to me, and not ignoring me like she’d done before. This time she actually lost her time analyzing me. Don’t ask me why – I truly don’t know – but I was satisfied with that. I was satisfied with the fact that she was, indeed, paying attention to me this time.

She even made a joke about my outfit. Coming from her mouth, that was probably a good thing, right? Considering the way how she’d acted towards me before, I concluded that yes; that was a good thing. That was really a step forward to our relationship, if we could call it like that. I’d barely talked to her, and yet I felt like I had this urge to find out more about her. I was just… Truly curious. She dated the biggest asshole in the world – I could already tell that by how he’d hurt her, and also by how he’d gotten into that fight in the club –, she was rude to everyone, kids an exception. With them she was the nicest a person could ever be.

She was probably one of those people who had a huge trauma on their childhood and tried to fix it by making kids’ lives happier; like their own wasn’t. But I was just assuming; there was no way I could know that.

Anyways, her bipolarity – just an easier term for her rapid changes of behavior – was not the only thing that caught my eye, I won’t lie. She was beautiful (and by beautiful I mean, yes, pretty face, nice eyes and lips, and a body blessed by God). How can a guy simply ignore the fact that a beautiful girl was wearing such tight and short clothes? He can’t. Yet, it doesn’t change the fact that I felt kind of embarrassed when she noticed me staring. It wasn’t the purpose, you know, stare too much, but for God’s sake, I couldn’t move my eyes away from her legs. Not because I’m a pervert or anything, but especially ‘cause I noticed a few bruises and small black marks on her skin.