Half Bad // Harry Styles

Chapter 17

♡ chapter 17 - Harry ♡

            Where the fuck is he?"

            I hadn't intended for those to be the first words leaving my lips, but seeing Rose so torn pissed me off to the fullest. Seething would be an understatement to describe my utter anger coursing my veins at the moment, my nails leaving indentions in my palms from squeezing my fists so tight. I wasn't sure how to describe this irate ordeal, but it was making my entire body tremble the more I thought about him laying a single hand on her. If he was going to die before, he's going to be six feet under now.

            Her bottom lip was split down the middle, a bruise lining her jaw with a slight purple-ish tint to portray it was just created. Stray twigs sprouted from her hair, looking as if she had escaped and ran through the woods like a wild woman trying to reach safety. Various cuts slashed across both arms and legs, only conjuring a bloodier mess than when she first tumbled through the door.

            Finally gathering the little senses I contained with all this aggression, I walked over to her. For a moment I hesitated on touching her, until I remembered she stupidly took off her bracelet just to make out with me. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it, but it's the whole reason she got snatched from me in the first place. I'd rather stick with the pain of never holding her instead of the pain of her never being with me at all.

            "Are you all right, Rose? What happened?" I asked as I gently grabbed her upper arm, helping her to her feet. My eyes darted to the boys dumbly standing around, wide-eyed and clueless. "Don't just fucking stand there, get her some water or something," I snapped angrily, and they each scurried off to do a random task.

            Rose leaned into me as we hobbled to the couch, her touch oddly numb instead of the fiery feeling I had felt when she first made physical contact with me. But I tried not to relish on that pointless thought at the moment, especially since my beauty was half dead in my arms.

            "What happened?" I asked her again, much softer this time as she sat on the couch, slumping back against the arm.

            Her eyes closed, her breaths still coming out in ragged pants as she held one hand to her chest, the other to her forehead. "H-he got me," she breathed out hoarsely, her voice sounding increasingly scratchy.

            My eyebrows pinched together. "I understand that, Rose. But what the hell did he do to make you look like this?"

            Rose didn't reply.

            My shaking hands from my enraged state heaved in frustration through my hair, my heart pounding fiercely against my ribcage, my imagination getting the best of me as I pictured all the sickening things he could've done to her. Beating her would be one thing, but taking advantage of her would be an extreme scenario I don't want to think about or else I'll go ape shit on this entire household.

            Jessie came back into the room, a wet rag and cup of water in his hands. "Here you go, Rose. Drink it slow."

            Rose weakly sat up, her dried bloody lips taking small sips as she let out a relieved sigh, placing the rag on her forehead. I watched her carefully, my eyebrows pulled together as I tried to depict why she was hardly speaking. Perhaps it's just the shock of everything that had occurred to her, or maybe she truly is just flat out exhausted. But to see her so silent was strange, not to mention worrying me even more. It's highly unlike her to shut that beautiful mouth.

            Jessie looked to me, his brows raised expectantly as if he were waiting for me to prompt her. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, standing to my feet as I motioned for him to follow me into the kitchen. He did so, almost hesitantly, but he followed me nonetheless into the confined area Rose couldn't eavesdrop.