Leader Of The Mafia {h.s}

042

He shrugged, biting his lip, he was unsure of what to say. But could I blame him? No, I can't. I wouldn't know what to say in a situation either. I know he's sad, but I don't know if he'll ever admit it. He doesn't have to though, I can tell by his expressions that he's not doing okay. He is probably stressed about his father showing up, I can tell they both hate each other. I think Harry might have some emotional or physical trauma from his father. I feel sympathy for Harry.

I crawled over to him, pecking his lips to break the awkwardness of silence. He smirked against mine, kissing me back. I just intended for the kiss to be a quick peck, I guess Harry wanted more. But, the kiss didn't last long, maybe a good two minutes, before he pulled away.

"We can't do this anymore." He muttered, "I'm sorry Breelyn. We can't keep doing this." He surrendered.

"W-what?!" I quietly exclaimed; "Harry what do you mean?"

"I can't keep kissing you! Okay? Nothing! No more hugs, kisses, sex, or anything!"  He shoved me off of him, as my body fell back into the leather couch.

"Then why'd you ever kiss me in the first place?!" I shouted.

"Because I had no one else." He muttered, the words that escaped his mouth hurting my soul.  "And don't try to help me anymore, with anything. Just let me be angry and sad all the time. I'm tired of you trying to fix me." He stormed out of the house and into the backyard.

I tried not to cry. I tried so hard to hold back the tears, but they all fell out. I was a human waterfall, the teardrops streamed down my red cheeks. I looked like a madwoman, I just know it.

I can't believe him. After everything I've helped him with this is my repayment? I saved his life. I made him smile, I made him laugh. But, maybe that's not what he wanted.  Maybe he wanted to keep in all the sad thoughts and deal with them alone.

I rubbed my red eyes, walking over to the backyard door that Harry had slammed. I opened the drapes to the window that was off to the side of the door. I looked through them, seeing Harry punching a punching bag, it was hung on a tree. His punches were strong and forceful, he could knock out anyone and anything. He looked scary and aggressive, his jaw clenched and brows furrowed. He looked like a madman, just like I had looked like a madwoman.

I don't know how he flipped the switch so fast, one minute he's fine and smiley than the next he's yelling at me for no reason.

I felt more teardrops prick my cheeks. I just wish I wasn't in this situation. I wish we never kissed, sleeping with him was a mistake. Such a big mistake, just like all the other guys I slept with. I hate to admit it, but Harry was no different than them. I guess.

Honestly, how could I be so stupid? Of course after I slept with Harry he would just go back to his normal, douchebag self. I slightly grumbled and put my head in my hands. I was so confused. Men were so complicated, one minute they're all up on you, by the next hour they're on another woman. The cycle continues...

I shook my head in deep regret. I slept with my kidnapper, and I thought it was a good idea. I clearly wasn't thinking, looking back on it.. I was just stupid and desperate. I didn't want to admit how good the sex was though, it was the best feeling of pleasure and lust that I have ever felt.

The door next to me slammed shut and revealed a sweaty Harry. He finished punching the punch bag and I was too caught up in my thoughts to realize how long he had been working out for. I tried not to, but I looked at him. And the look I gave him, was brutal.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, biting his lower lip. He was looking at me as if nothing happened earlier.

I didn't answer, I shook my head and hung it low. I didn't want to talk to him. I just wanted to be alone.

"Bree you know that I-"

I swallowed a gulp in my chest before looking directly up at him with my red eyes filled with anger. "Fuck you, Harry!" I shouted, pushing him back. He stumbled slightly at the unexpected action, but, I didn't push him hard enough to fall over.

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" I shouted in his face, I was angry. I tried to stop myself from shouting but I couldn't, I was just so mad at him. When I looked at him, all I saw was red. And red, looked very appealing to taunt, push, and scream at. "Fuck you, Harry!" I repeated the profanities over and over to get it through his head that I was mad at him.

"Calm down!" He surrendered, lightly pushing my hands off of his shoulders.

"No, you don't tell me to calm down!" I screamed, stumbling back. "I need a fucking drink." I muttered, walking over to the kitchen and scrambling through the drawers.

I pulled out the tall, skinny, clear bottle. Opening it up and clanking it in the air. "See this, Harry?" I waved the bottle up at him, "it's free fucking therapy," my eyes bulged out of my sockets. "Since my help isn't enough for you, try vodka!" I fake smiled, downing the bottle.

"Quit drinking." Harry crossed his tatted arms.

I detached my lips from the bottle, not obeying his demands but to respond to them. "I'm not allowed to help you, so you're not allowed to help me." I brought my lips around the bottle spout again, sipping away all the thoughts. The more I drink, the more I'll forget. And the more I forget, the less hurt I'll be.

Maybe I was being too sensitive? What can I expect, he kidnapped me and I expected him just to be nice all the time? I thought he changed, though. I guess it's only a temporary thing.

"You know after we had sex I thought you'd change." I hummed, closing the lid of the bottle and storing it back into the drawer. "Perhaps I was wrong."

"You're not understanding anything, Breelyn." Harry said.

"Quit telling me what I do and don't understand." I rolled my eyes. "What don't I apparently understand?"

"I'm not shutting you out because I don't like you. Im shutting you out because I have to. It's for my own good, yours too."

"Oh yeah?" I furrowed my brows, rolling my lips in my mouth.

"Yes." He sighed, lightly lulling his head back in frustration.

"I'm not even going to ask you anything anymore, Harry. I'm just so sick of you. All of your little mind games." I shook my head in disapproval.

"What do you expect, Breelyn? I'm a kidnapper who plays mind games on my victims." He crossed his arms as if it was obvious.

"I have a strong feeling you're way more than just a kidnapper, Harry." I stated my opinion.

"What makes you say that?" He stuck his tongue between his teeth, leaning back against the counter with crossed arms.

"Well. You lie about everything, so what makes me so sure that all you are is a kidnapper?" I looked him up and down, he had a cocky smirk on his face.

"You're smart, Breelyn." Harry tutted.

"I know," I gushed.

"Cocky, too?" He chuckled in a sinister way that let chills travel down my spine.

"I wouldn't be talking, Harry." I clicked my tongue on the roof of my mouth and crossed my arms. He was way more cocky than I'll ever be. He has no room to call me cocky.

Harry didn't reply, he just sighed as if he made the biggest mistake of his life.

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