♡Three Little Words♡ |h.s|

2:Shatter'd Glass

 ~~ Harry ~~

My head was forcefully whipped back from the sudden impact.  Her soft, chocolate brown eyes flew open and a gasp slipped out of her lips, seeing I had once again saved her from Dylan.

"Harry. . . " Zayn whispered as he stepped away.  My left eye was already painfully closing, but I managed to smile back at Zayn.  At least he didn't get hurt.

Turning to Dylan, I grabbed his elbow and dragged him into the hall.

"What the hell?" I heard him blurt out.  His breath was heavy.  I knew he was pretty pissed at me.

"What the hell's your problem, Styles!?  Didn't you see I had a perfectly good shot right there?!" he yelled.

"Yeah, a perfectly good shot at knocking her brains out!" I snapped,  pushing him against the cold locker.  He looked at me, his eyes as serious as can be.  I knew he didn't care if he ever hurt her. . .

"Your protecting her, just like those other guys aren't you?"

My head dropped to the ground and I stared at my glossy shoes. "No...I mean...I-" I hesitated, fixing the hem of my shirt a bit.

"Sorry. . .  But I wasn't going to stand back and watch you hit a girl or Zayn either, okay?" I whispered.  He sighed and grabbed his jaw, straightening his maroon varsity jacket.

Silence hit us both.  My green eyes slowly drifted back to the cafeteria.

"You've always been too soft, Haz.  You're about as soft as a girl," he teased, shaking head.  I smiled rolling my green orbs.

"Come on, Captain Dick.  Let's go clean ya up," I chuckled as he playfully punched me in the arm.

"I thought I told you to never call me that!" he whined, trying his best not to smile.

I never understood why I didn't like Belle, but I knew that the only thing I was feeling for her was sympathy.

I felt sorry for her.  I knew things she never would expect me to know.

I am her neighbor after all.

~~ Belle ~~

"DAD!  I'm home!" I yelled, peering around the empty, gray house.

I tossed my bag across the hall.  Everything seemed normal as usual.  It was perfectly empty. . .  No couch in the living room.  No fancy, expensive rugs to warm my feet.  The walls painted an icy, pale white color, looking bare as ever.  Although, something felt odd.

"Where have you been!?" an unexpected voice rang in my ears.  I didn't think she would be here so early, or even at all.  My heart became heavier as she walked into the room.

"I said where have you been?!" She screamed.

I gulped, "I was practicing with the chorus class.  Remember I play piano-"

"Oh, that's right!  God!  I still don't know how they got you to play.  I mean, you sound terrible. .  .  Then again, when have you ever been good at anything?"

She took a long drink from her clear, whiskey cup.  The same one I had to wash every night for her.  And if I didn't, who knows what she would do to me. Although, I never understood why I wasn't already dead. 

"Belle, take that off!" She demanded.  "What is that?  You look ridiculous!!  God!  You don't even have a decent sense of style."

I licked my chafed lips.  She's never seen me in a bun before.  I shook my head, loosening the knot.  My feet carried me to the kitchen, where I scavenged around for something to eat.