Summer Shade ➳ Larry

Chapter sixteen (Final Chapter)

(Harry's POV)

All of the pain, all the hurt, all the agony . . . I put my pent up emotions into this kiss. It's not full of love, it's not full of emotion or sparks, it's just a meaningless breathless snog, but it's what I want right now. What I need.

At first, the kiss was nothing. Just a simple messy kiss on the lips with no feelings or roughness, just anger and frustration.

But then Drew shoves his tongue in my mouth and presses his body against mine, and he digs his nails in my hips and growls into my mouth, and it's all just too much. Drew bites my bottom lip, hard, and I whimper because, damn, that really hurt. I try to disconnect our mouths but he keeps going, sandwiching me between the wall and his own body. He practically forces his tongue into my mouth and I attempt, and fail, to push him away. I want to tell him that I don't want this-- that it's all too much-- but he continues to snog the daylights out of me until I see stars, and not in a good way. In a bad way. He circles his hips against mine and moans in pleasure, but I don't, and I don't like this one bit. All I wanted was an innocent kiss to release my anger, not this.

And then his hands are gripping my sides, squeezing harshly, and by now I've stopped kissing back and he bloody knows this. He disconnects our lips, allowing me to breathe, and then moves his lips down to my neck where he peppers light kisses.

"Stop, Drew," I whine.

"Shut up," he grumbles. He bites into the skin on my collarbone and I feel tears wilt up in my eyes. I shove at his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he's much stronger than me. We both know that.

"Fucking hell, stop." I shove him once more but, yet again, he doesn't budge. Instead, he just gets rougher and digs his teeth deeper into the flesh of my neck, then licks it with languid strokes of his tongue. I don't like this.

"You know you want it," he hisses, breath ticking my skin. His hands find their way to the hem of my shirt and he yanks it upward but I whine and nudge him away with my thigh.

"You little slut," Drew breathes. He unbuttons my jeans and unzips them eagerly. I try to push him away again but he shoots me a death glare and orders me not to talk.

"Stop," I beg, eyes pleading. I don't want this to continue in the direction that it's going in, but he won't listen to me. He pulls my jeans down to my ankles, leaving me just in my boxers. I scramble to pull them back up.

"What the fuck—"

I'm interrupted with a loud smack, and I feel a sharp sting against my face. It burns up my skin and I cup my cheek in pain, my mouth hanging wide open.

"That hurt!"

"Good."

And then he's pulling at the top of my boxers and I want to scream, want to cry, because this has gone way too far. He must have figured this out because he covers my mouth with his hand, silencing me, and I feel like I can't breathe or move, and I start panicking and my heart starts beating out of my chest.

Drew hushes me. "Don't fret, my pet." His eyes are tinkling with mischief and it makes me sick to my stomach. All I wanted to do was kiss him, to express my anger towards Louis, but this is too much. I know what he's thinking and I don't want it. Not with him.

I bite his hand that's over my mouth, taking the sensitive skin of his palm in between my teeth. He curses and yanks his hand away, much to my relief. He examines his hand, eyes flickering over the bite mark, and growls in pain. I gulp.

"You shouldn't have done that," Drew grumbles.

He tsks and grabs my shoulders and then pushes me forcefully onto the bed, making me land face first into the pillows with a loud umph. No, no, no. This can't be happening. I feel Drew's weight straddle my back and his hands roam up and down my sides.

"Get off me!" I groan.

"Shut up!" he tells me, his voice echoing through the walls. He grabs at my curls, fisting them in his hands, and I yell in pain. Don't get me wrong, hair tugging is a massive turn on for me but this isn't just teasing and gentle-like how Louis does it, this is rough and angry and just plain painful.

"You want this, don't deny it," Drew whispers, looming over my back. I whimper in frustration and try squirming underneath his weight, but he doesn't budge.

"Drew, stop," I whimper.

"What did I tell you about talking!?"

I hear the door click open, followed by a loud, manly gasp. "What is going on!?" I immediately recognize the voice as my father's. I sigh in relief as Drew's weight is lifted off of my back.

I sit up immediately and watch Drew literally sprint out of my bedroom, zipping past my stunned and flustered father. I quickly button up my trousers and zip up my zipper. And then I hear the front door slam shut, and Drew's gone.

I don't even care now; I start crying. The tears pour out of my eyes, dripping down my reddened cheeks. I curl up in the bed and feel like I'm suffocating. The walls are closing in on me. I start hyperventilating and I can't breathe. My chest feels like it's being crushed. What if Dad hadn't walked in? What would Drew have done to me?

"Harry, what happened?" My father sits down on the bed and wraps his arm around me-- the most affection that he's showed me in a long time. He rubs cirlces on my back and I have to admit it helps me relax a little bit.

"Drew snuck in my room and h-he started kissing me and then he took off my clothes and I tr-tried to stop him but--"

"Did that son of a bitch rape you?" he demands, his voice lowering to an angry growl.

I immediately shake my head because, no, he didn't.

"But he did all of that to you without your consent?" he presses on.

I nod.

"I'm calling the police," he states and sits up from the bed, but I grab his wrist to stop him.

"Don't! Please, don't," I beg. "I don't want to make a big deal out of this. If Louis finds out-- I just, shit." And now I'm crying harder, y'know, the ugly sort of crying, when you choke on your own tears and gasp for air.

I bury my head in my hands and want to scream. I want to scream and cry and let it all out. I want to hold Louis and kiss him and apologize for everything. I know this will probably be the end of our relationship if he finds out. He'll never forgive me— Hell, I don't even forgive myself.