You will do anything for me.

Chapter 23. 999.

What I'm really thinking right now is 'Whoa'. What comes out of my mouth, miraculously, is a simply, sultry, "Hey."

"Hey yourself." he says, I can see his breath in the wet, frigid air as it escapes his mouth. A boy wearing a  soaking wet brown puffervest, a blue zipped-up hoodie underneath, grey joggers and blue supras is standing on my front porch with a lidded coffee cup smiling at me, simple, backlit and beautiful. "Still wearing my jumper?"

I look down at the old, slightly mattered Jack Wills jumper I'm wearing and smile sheepishly. "Yeah..."

"So, can I come in before I drown and freeze my peanuts off?" Harry says.

I giggle and nod, stepping aside.

Harry scrapes his shoes on the Welcome mat on the porch before stepping inside the warm house.

"You're sure she's gone?" he asks, eyeing the staircase.

 "Yes, I'm sure," I whisper, closing the door.

"Then why are you whispering?" Harry asks at a normal volume, taking off his wet puffervest and putting it on the coat hanger.

"I don't know," I whisper, smiling for no reason.

Harry chuckles. He's standing over me now, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie.

I take a step forwards so our faces are just inches away, abling to smell his minty breath. Before I think too much about what I'm doing, I stretch up on tiptoe, take Harry's face in my hands, and plant a firm kiss on his soft lips. He doesn't pull away; instead, he leans towards me, low enough that I don't have to stay on my toes. He wraps his free arm - the one not holding coffee - tightly around my waist, and I feel his strong palm press into my lower back. My hands move to the back of his neck. I lose track of time and place and just let go and enjoy the increasingly heated kisses in the dark hallway.

I lean into Harry and the two of us stumble backwards, until his back thuds into the front door. I smash against his chest.

"Oops," Harry says, stepping back.

I'm confused for a moment until I look down at where Harry is looking and see that he's spilt coffee down me.

"Shit!" I say, wiping off the coffee, but it just makes it worse.

"Oh man, I bought the coffee for you as well." Harry says, acting sad.

"Sorry," I say.

Harry chuckles. "It looked like that jumper needed a wash anyway."

I shove Harry playfully and he smiles cheekily. He puts the half-empty coffee down on the small table in the hall next to us before leaning in and kissing me again, making my breath catch. Lip-locked, he picks me up and carries me into the sitting room, placing me down on the sofa. He sits next to me and I feel my heart beat race as I feel his hands stroke my waist, he takes the edges of my jumper and lifts it over my head. I climb on top of him and wrap my legs around him and let my fingers get lost in his curls as he kisses me passionately. I try to find the zip to his hoodie but I can't.

Harry chuckles. "No zip," he murmers against my lips.

I watch him pull his hoodie up over his head, along with his t-shirt, that is now on the ground. I push my hands on his chest as he kisses me hard. I feel him undo my bra and I help him take off my top. 

He holds my back and leans down so I'm forced back on the sofa. He kisses my cheek, my jaw, my neck and chest, making my body feel like jelly under his touch. I feel his eyes on me as his body hovers above me. I keep my eyes closed, savouring the moment as it lasts. It feels as though minutes have passed since his lips have been on mine.

"Harry," I whisper. "kiss me," 

"Brooklyn," Harry's voice is hard. "What happened?"

My eyes flutter open and he's staring down at my body.

I watch his face; it turns pale in the dim-lit room and by it I can tell he is confused.

"Who did this to you?" he asks softly, tracing his fingers over the bruises and scars on my arms. 

I want to jump up, cover myself with something or run out of the room. But he's seen it. There's no running away now.

Harry's eyes meet mine again and this time they're more angry than confused.

"Who did this to you?" he asks again, angrier.

I struggle to breathe for a second and I feel a lump in my throat. "Dougie." I utter.

Harry doesn't move, he's still hovering above me, fuming, staring at my body, making me feel more and more self-conscious of it.

I put one arm over my chest to cover it and he slides down on the sofa next to me, facing me. 

"Why would he do this to you?" he says, more of a certainty than a question.

I shake my head, looking down.

He gently strokes his fingers up my arm, across my chest, down my side and across my belly, all of it, covered in bruises.

He takes my chin and pulls it up so my eyes meet his again. I watch as they turn from angry, to confused, to... hurt? and then back to angry... then sympathetic. 

"You can trust me, Brookie." he says, stroking my cheek.

"I know," I whisper.

He takes the teal patterned blanket from the end of the sofa and puts it over me, tucking me in.

"Now tell me, when did it start?" he asks, once he's calm.

I take in a deep, shaky breath and say, "about 4 months ago. It was 2 months after we got together, when he... started."

Harry's eyebrows knit together as he takes it all in.

"Why did he do it, though?"

I laugh nervously and shake my head. "I don't know, Harry." I say, trying to keep myself collected. "He was drunk."

"Did it happen more than once?"

I nod. 

Harry exhales deeply and looks around the room for a moment.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks once our eyes meet again.

I shake my head. "I couldn't."

Harry moves even closer to me, taking my hand and looking me in the eye. "Brookie, you have to promise me that you won't stop me from doing what I'm about to do, okay?"

I frown at Harry, confused. 

He stands up and takes out his phone from his pocket. It's not until I sit up and strain my neck until I notice he's dialling 999.