Break Me-A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 13-Broken

    "Harry!" I call, pumping my legs rapidly, pushing my body to run as fast as they allow. I can't tell if he's ignoring me, or simply cannot hear me due to the noticeable distance between us.
    "Harry!" I shout, louder this time. He ceases his movements, turning around in search of the source of his name calling. I catch up to him, panting lightly, a bit out of breath from chasing him out of the building. I take a good look at his face, clear apprehension sprawled across his perfect features.
  "What?" He asks flatly. I can't tell if he's angry or not. At this moment, however, I couldn't care less about how he was feeling. His confusing actions towards me resulted in a heart-fluttering, butterfly-erupting mess inside of me, leaving me clueless about my feelings towards him. I then found out that he's had "history" with Naomi, and though I'm not quite sure what that means, I know it can't be good based on her hysterical outburst upon seeing us together.
  "I, w-what happened back there?" I shout in frustration. The increased volume of my voice not phasing Harry in the slightest. He sighs, looking down at me with sparkling emerald irises. Without a word, he plucks my hand from my side, and pulls me across campus, towards the boys' building, and presumably to his dorm. I do not protest, allowing him to drag me into his living quarters as long as I receive some answers.
    Harry's room is a bit bigger than mine, but otherwise the two are almost identical. Two beds, two chests, two desks, and one bathroom. I can't help but survey the room, eyes wandering around the cluttered space, momentarily forgetting about my necessary interrogations. Harry sits on his bed, watching me as I inspect the wooden desk on his side of the room. It looks like mine, only messier. Disorganized papers stick out from the sides of dismantled notebooks that seem to be hanging onto composure by a loose thread.
  "Bella." Harry draws my attention, and I can hear the smile through his gentle tone. His voice startles me, and my hand subconsciously flies up, hitting a plastic lamp resting on the desk, accidentally knocking it off. It crashes to the floor, glass from the bulb shattering onto the hardwood.
  "I'm sorry!" I cry.
 My eyes widen, as Harry springs up from his seated position, hurrying over to me. Heart beating erratically in my chest, I drop to the floor. I know what's about to happen. I am to be punished for my clumsy actions. A slap to the cheek, or a squeeze of the wrist may be all I endure, but they hurt nonetheless. I press my back against the wall, hoping to create as much space between Harry and myself. As I scramble away from him, my palm presses into a piece of broken glass, the sharp object pricking my skin, blood drawing to the surface. I hiss in pain. Harry stands in front of me, knees level with my eyes from my position on the floor, and my breathing becomes heavy as he bends down to grab me. I am lifted to my feet, and I don't dare meet Harry's gaze. I shut my eyes, mentally preparing for the pain to come. I am surprise when strong arms wrap around me protectively. I didn't realize that I'd been trembling until I hear Harry's gentle coos.
    "Shh, it's ok." His hand is brought to my head, smoothing my hair as his hand continues down my back, soothing me. My breathing is finally steadied, and Harry creates space between us, looking down at me worriedly. I suddenly feel embarrassed. I should have known Harry wasn't going to hit me. He isn't him. I bite my lip anxiously, looking up at Harry through thick lashes surrounding my blue eyes.
  "Are you ok?" He asks, looking extremely concerned. I hold out my hand, Harry's gaze dropping down to see my palm, smeared in the crimson liquid. He walks hurriedly into the bathroom, and quickly returns, holding a dampened washcloth. He guides me to sit on his bed, as he pats my burning skin, absorbing the droplets of blood forming in my damaged flesh. Once clear of any liquid, he places a small bandage, covering the wound. I inspect the bandage, small images of Mickey Mouse covering the surface of it. I look up to Harry, awaiting an explanation, unable to hide the grin plastered on my face.
    "That was all they had at the store." He mumbles childishly, and I can't stop the giggles erupting from the back of my throat, echoing through the small room. My laughter apparently contagious, as Harry's lips curl into a smile, and he joins me in filling the room with the sweet sound. Once our laughter has ceased, Harry looks deeply into my eyes, green meeting blue, as he smiles once more.
  "I like your laugh." He says, and a blush creeps onto my cheeks. My bottom lip is caught in between my teeth once more, as I break our eye contact, focusing down onto my lap. After a few moments of silence, Harry speaks.
  "Naomi really liked me last year." My eyes look up to him, once more. Harry's gaze focuses on the floor as he talks. "I knew how much she liked me, and I.." He sighs, shaking his head lightly in disbelief. "I took advantage of that." I blink up at him, awaiting his elaboration. A few moments of silence pass before he speaks again. "I took her to a hotel far outside of town, and took her virginity. Then, when we were driving back, I don't know why, but I..I made her get out of the car. We were on a highway, and I pulled over and told her to leave. She thought I was joking, but I wasn't. I literally dragged her from my car, and left her sobbing on the side of the busy road." Naomi definitely wasn't the nicest person I'd ever met, but my heart tugged at the thought of her crying on the busy highway, vehicles zooming past her. Alone, and scared, she must have had no idea what to do. I wanted nothing more than to run back to our room, and embrace her in a tight hug. I looked to Harry, his eyes still glued to the floor, not daring to meet mine.
  "Why did you do it?" I finally ask. He shrugs a little.
    "I was trying to show her that I didn't have feelings for her, that I'd just...."
    "Taken advantage of her." I continue for him. He nods.
     "Taken advantage of her." He repeats. "But I know that something within her snapped that day, the next time I saw her at school she was meaner, more bitter." He sighs once more. "And I know that it's my fault." He says, barely audibly. I want to comfort him, the sight of him enveloped in grief saddening me, but I do not want him to think I am justifying his actions by soothing him. Minutes go by without either of us saying anything, an uneasy silence lingering between us.
    "Thank you for telling me that." I say, and I mean it. I can tell that Harry is not one to open up easily. He turns to face me, eyes meeting mine for the first time since his story had started. He offers me a small smile, and a nod of the head. Another silence hangs between us, and I begin to think that this is my cue to leave, but just as I am about to arise from my position on Harry's bed, he pipes up.
    "Bella?" I turn to face him.
    "Yeah?"
    "Do I really scare you?" He questions, concern prevalent in his deep green eyes. I think for a moment, realizing that I haven't been truthfully scared during this time spent with him, rather the opposite. I've felt at ease with him, comfort flowing naturally between us, neither feeling awkward nor uncomfortable around the other. I shake my head.
    "No." I say. "Under your scary exterior, you're actually a big softie." I tease with a smile. Harry's features light up as a smile grows on his face.
    "I am not!" He laughs, and I join him.
    "Yes you are!"
    "Take that back!" He demands playfully, poking a finger at my arm. I shake my head, stifling a giggle.
      "Take it back!" He says again. I lock eyes with him, a smirk playing on my lips.
        "Make me." Harry dives on top of me, fingers digging deeply into my ribs, tickling up and down. Wild giggles fall from my lips, and I squirm under his touch. A boyish cackle is released from the back of Harry's throat as he continues to tickle me. Our laughter flows through the room, echoing. The beautiful sound rings in my ears, and I gasp for a breath.
      "O-ok!" I pant. "Ok! You're not a softie!" I shout. Harry collapses beside me, both of us contently out of breath. He turns onto his side, a lazy smile spread across his lips. I look up from my long lashes, reciprocating his gesture. Harry's hand moves to my face, brushing away a strand of my dark hair, and for once, dangerous thoughts don't cloud my mind. A need to hide from the world, and all of its evil, was not present. I felt happy. All was right.

:) Hope you enjoyed!

@slamminstyles