Break Me-A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 14-Release

   It's been four days since I've spoken to Harry. Four days since he's kissed me. Four days filled with images of Harry swirling around in my brain. I'm so confused by him. During our time spent together, he didn't seem at all dangerous, or alarming. He was sweet, and charming. A sense of security overwhelms me whenever in his presence, light shining throughout my body whenever a smile plays on his lips. Sparks of electricity popping within me any time we touch, never wanting his actions to cease.
      I enter my shared dorm, surprised to find Naomi sitting cross-legged on her tiny bed. She usually goes to parties every Friday, Saturday, and even sometimes Sunday nights. She acknowledges me with a smile, as I enter the room.
    "Hey," I say lightly, still worried to say anything to remind her of what had happened four days ago. "I thought you would be out at a party."
    "Lily is should be here any minute to pick me up." She responds. "You can come if you want." My head shoots up in an attempt to see if she is mocking me, waiting for her to burst into laughter. She doesn't.
  "Uh," I am about to protest, when a thought pops into my mind: Harry could be going to this party. Too afraid to ask Naomi to reveal this information, I ponder the idea. Should I go on the off chance that he'll be there? I almost accept her offer, when I remember what happened when I last accompanied her to a party. I experienced intense flashbacks, and panic attacks. I shake my head.
    "No, it's ok, but thanks for asking."
Naomi frowns a bit, but nods in understanding. Her phone vibrates, indicating a text, presumably from Lily, announcing her arrival. Naomi arises from the bed, and heads towards the door. Before she opens the wooden frame, she turns to me.
    "Bella?"
    "Yeah?"
    "Can you keep what happened between us?" She pleads, referring to her outburst of tears.
    "Yeah, of course." She opens the door, but faces me once more before heading out.
      "And Bella?" I look up to meet her gaze. "I'm just looking out for you when I tell you to stay away from Harry. He's really not a good guy." I smile at her, appreciative of her concern.
        "Thanks, have fun tonight." Naomi nods, and closes the door behind her. I sit in silence for a few moments, allowing series of thoughts to circulate throughout my crowded mind. I am greeted by the familiarity of sadness, snaking its way down my body, embedding itself into my soul. No matter how hard I try, happiness cannot permanently find me. An indefinite emptiness always seems to announce its presence whenever I allow myself time alone. A heaviness is weighed down on my chest, as overwhelming flashbacks pop into my mind. I picture him, his eyes, dangerous and unforgiving. I picture his lips, curled into a viscous smirk. My heart pounds in my chest, and my legs suddenly wobble. I stumble into the bathroom. My shaky limbs give in, and I fall to the floor with a thud. I wince at the contact with the tiles. Tears glaze over my blue eyes, pouring out immediately. I choke on a harsh sob, emitting a strangled noise from the back of my throat. Continuous tears falls from my eyes as an unfathomable abundance of sadness repeatedly washes down on me, like waves crashing down on the sand. I am falling apart. I am a piece of glass, cracked in the middle. Barely holding onto structure and composure, any sudden contact will break me, shattering my pieces until there is nothing left. I need a release. Release from myself, and the insistent thoughts circulating throughout my already scarred and damaged mind. I know how to obtain such a feeling, and as I shakily stand from my seated position, and grab the plastic object, I am torn. A part of me wishes so badly for me to do it, to rip open my flesh, and watch as the evidence of my mental instability pours out of my arm. Another part of me tells me to put the sharp object down, that I can't keep doing this to myself. After what feels like hours of contemplation, I make a decision. I timidly reach for the razor, gripping it firmly in my trembling hands as I back into the wall, sliding to the floor, and examining it. I take a deep breath, and roll up the long sleeves of my sweatshirt. My previous scars still visible, faded white lines that run along my arm like train tracks. I press the sharp object down, and let out a shaky breath, as the droplets of red liquid drip from my wrist. My actions not sustaining the response I'd hoped for, I repeat them. Drawing two more lines with the razor, thick layers of crimson fluid covering the surface of my arm. I am numb. Numb to the throbbing pain, numb to the thoughts draining from my head. A sudden knock on the door causes my head to snap up, my eyes widening, and my heart's pace rapidly increasing. I scramble to my feet, and quickly turn the handle of the sink, running water flowing from the nozzle. I wash away the dried liquid, but even so, red fluid continues to drip from my damaged flesh. I grab a tissue from the box, pressing it over the wounds in an attempt to steady the flow of blood. Once I've wiped the away the crimson stains on the white tiled floor, I make my way over to the door. I pull the sleeves of my sweatshirt down instinctively, and fling the wooden frame open. I am greeted by Harry slumped against the  wall opposite to my door. His face lightens into a carefree smile, as he walks over to me. An overwhelming scent of alcohol fills my nose, Harry wreaking of the substance.
    "Hey," He beams. I offer a slight smile.
    "Hi, uh, what are you doing here?" I question him. Harry gives me a playful eye roll.
    "To see you." He says as though its obvious. Without granting my permission to enter my living space, he strides past me, sitting upon my bed. He pats the empty area next to him, silently asking me to join him on the small mattress. I oblige, joining him on my bed, but leaving a reasonable distance between us.
   "I've been thinking about you a lot." He says, absentmindedly tracing patterns on my bed sheets with his long fingers. I cock an eyebrow.
  "You have?" I've been thinking about him a lot too. He hums in response, and I can see the glassiness in his eyes from all of the alcohol he's consumed.
     "Harry?" He looks up to meet my gaze. "Not to be rude, but why did you come here?" He laughs at my politeness.
    "That party was laaame," He marvels. "I'd rather be here." Harry falls back onto my pillow, smiling up at the ceiling, as if admiring its appearance. I sigh, I need to get him out of here. I stand from my bed, and grab his hand. He locks eyes with me, a smirk playing on his lips, as he thinks I am being suggestive. When really, I just want him to leave. I pull on his hand as hard as I can, in an attempt to lift his large body from my bed. He pretends not to notice, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. I try to suppress the blush making its way up to my cheeks. Harry is drunk. What is he feeling, and how he is acting is completely due to his obscene intake of liquor, I remind myself. I am taken by surprise when Harry's hand wraps around my wrists, and he applies pressure to them, pressing down on my raw self inflictions. I let out a shriek in pain, but Harry ignores me, pulling my body on top of his. I lie uncomfortably with my head on his hard chest, as his arms wrap around my small form.
   "Um, Harry?" I squeak awkwardly, Harry's strong arms bind my body to his, tightly pressing me against him, making it difficult to generate any large movements. Harry hums in reply, the vibrations rumbling in his chest.
  "You're, um, I'm a bit uncomfortable." Harry chuckles in response, loosening his grip slightly.
    "I can't let you go unless you promise not to leave." I smile at his intoxication, his oblivion to the fact that we're in my dorm.
     "This is my room," I laugh. "If I left I wouldn't have any where to go."
Harry's hands rub soothing circles on my back, and a chill runs down my spine, goosebumps emerging upon the surface of my skin. Warmth floods throughout my body, a sense of importance filling me up. Harry's innocent, yet encouraging touch causes my heart's pace to increase, and thousands of butterflies to erupt in my stomach. Though I would never admit it, his company temporarily relieves the constant aching of my heart, and the insistent dangerous thoughts swarming in my brain. Though I've been told countless times to stay away from this mysteriously enticing boy, I can't seem to. For someone said to be so dark, and menacing, an inexplainable compassion and warmth glows from beneath his hard exterior. Though I'm only just beginning to see glimpses of it, I know in time, it will become increasingly exposed to me.
       "I mean this spot, don't leave this spot. Lie here with me." He pleads sleepily.
       "Ok, but only for a little bit." Harry's hold on me is released, and I climb off of him. I lie next to him on my tiny bed, my back pressed against the wall, my front facing the curly haired boy. Harry's body heat radiates off of him, warming me instantly.
        "Harry?" I question.
        "Hm?"
       "Why did you stand me up?" Harry's smile falters upon hearing my question. When he offers no response, I continue. "You said you would pick me up at 7, but never showed up." Harry studies my face, his emerald green irises boring into mine, green meeting blue, and I blink up at him.
    "I had to make a phone call." He replies bluntly. I shoot up to a seated position, a sudden infuriation bubbling within me.
    "What do you mean you had to make a phone call?! You left me waiting all night!" I am surprised to hear myself shouting, but I can't seem to stop myself. Harry's absolute disregard for anyone's feelings enraging me, his selfishness provoking an apoplectic anger inside of me. Harry's eyes shut at my increasing tone, the volume in no way aiding to his intoxication. He says nothing. A lingering silence quickly consumes the tiny room, weighing heavily on the thick air surrounding us. Several moments pass before Harry chooses to speak.
   "I'm sorry, Bella. There was something really important that came up." Harry opens his eyes, and they meet mine, sadness briskly devouring the enticing green color.
     "You could have at least called me." I mumble, tranquility overtaking the previous rage.
    "I know, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He pleads. I know I should push him further, but the sincerity in his voice is palpable. I sigh, falling onto my back once more, head resting on the pillow next to Harry.
   "Do you know what?" Harry inquires. I turn to him, our faces tremendously close, Harry's hot breath fanning over me.
     "What?"
     "I have a hidden talent." He whispers with an excited grin. I can't stop the smile striding across my face.
    "What is it?" I play along. Harry holds his hands above us, folding his thumb into his palm, and tightening his other hand in a fist. He pretends connect and disconnect his thumb, but due to his alcohol intake, his movement slow and jagged. I suppress my giggles for as long as possible until they burst from my mouth, hysterical laughs falling from my parted lips. I am out of breath by the time my actions have ceased, panting happily as Harry's accomplished grin grows.
   "How do you always do that?" I finally ask.
   "Do what?"
   "Make me smile whenever I feel unhappy." Harry's eyes light up from my words, welling with happiness. He leans into me, pressing a small kiss to my nose, causing my heart to flutter, fireworks exploding within my stomach at the contact. I turn away from him, lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling. A sudden exhaustion overwhelming me, absorbing my consciousness as my eyes flutter shut. A serenity consumes me, and I am seemingly weightless, dark thoughts temporarily diminishing.
      "Are you tired?" Harry speaks up.
      "Hmm." I mumble, fatigue overwhelming my ability to formulate a response.
     "I'll go." He says, and I feel him shift on the bed, arising from his position. I no longer feel the heat of his body emitting off of me, and I frown at the sudden chill.
    "No, stay." I groan. Though my eyes are closed, I know that Harry stands, contemplating my offer. "Naomi won't be back all weekend." I sleepily speak, my voice trailing off, as a yawn escapes from my lips.
        "I'll go in her bed, I guess." He finally mumbles. I want him to sleep in bed with me, but all too quickly sleep devours me, pulling me under its tight grip.


    I wake to a clap of thunder, my eyes snapping open as a flash of lightning illuminates my room. Heavy rain hits the roof, pulsing down onto the building in large thuds. Another burst of thunder, and I shoot up from my pillow, immensely frightened by the surging storm just outside of my window. I look over to Naomi's bed. Harry's large body sprawled out, snoring lightly, he lays undisturbed in a deep slumber. A second flicker of lightning shoots throughout the bedroom, momentarily radiating the entirety of it. I jump up from my bed, heart pounding quickly in my chest. I've never been one to handle severe weather conditions, their noise and intensity often startling me. I pad over to where Naomi's bed stands, and poke Harry's arm. He groans in response.
    "Harry?" I squeak.

     Boom! A crash of thunder echoes within my dorm, and I jump. I desperately shake Harry's arm.
  "Harry!" I plead. His head rises slowly, his eyes squinted.
   "Bella? What's wrong?" His voice is deeper, and raspier, exhaustion present in his tone.
 "I-I'm scared. Do you think I can sleep with you?" I beg. A sleepy smile spreads on Harry's face, and he scoots over, pulling the blanket from his body, waiting for me to slide in next to him. I suck in a breath when I look down at Harry. His clothes have been stripped from him, folded neatly at the edge of the bed. He lays in his black boxers, inked skin exposed to me. I am about to waver his offer, insisting that I was being childish, and crawl back into my own bed, when a strike of lightning bursts through the window. Without a thought I dive into bed with Harry, pulling the blanket up to my chin in an attempt to shield myself from the ongoing storm. Harry chuckles lightly, wrapping a protective arm around me. I scoot closer to him, burrowing my head in his chest. Never in my life have I felt so safe. Harry's large body sheltering my tiny one, protecting me from any and all danger. The beat of his heart calms me, his chest undeviatingly rising and falling with each breath he takes. He strokes my hair, and I look up at him.
  "Are you still drunk?" I whisper, provoking another smile from him.
 "Not really." He assures me.
  "You're like a frightened little kitten." Harry chuckles after a few moments of silence. I giggle slightly at his comparison.
   "I'm glad you left the party." I tell him, and he presses our foreheads together, sneaking another light kiss onto my nose.
  "Me too." He says, resting his head back on the pillow. "What do you do here all alone during the weekends?" He asks.
  "Think." I answer honestly.
  "What about?"
 "Everything." We sit in silence, Harry staring down on me, concentrating intensely on my soft features. I look up at him from beneath my lashes.
   "You're sad." He mumbles, it sounds as though he's confirming it to himself rather than to me. I blink up at him, truly puzzled.
  "I-I, no, I'm fine." I stammer in defense. Harry begins to run soothing circles along my spine, instantly relaxing me. He shakes his head.
  "It's your eyes, they give it away." He explains, and I frown. Maybe I am sad, maybe I am damaged, but how is it so obvious to this boy that I've known for only two weeks? Could he possibly have an idea as to what hidden secrets lay in my past? How can he see the pain burning deep inside of me, the aching loneliness, and the gruesome emptiness? I turn away from him, my back now pressing against his front. He pulls me in tighter to him, his breath fanning on the skin of my neck. The previous exhaustion reappears, enveloping me in its darkness. I am just about to drift into sleep when I hear a soft whisper from behind me.
   "Let me save your from yourself."