Dust Bones [Harry Styles]

045

note: you know what'd be cool? if i could do like a twitcam one day and we can just talk to each other and like yes i'll have friends yk? we can just talk and you guys can see how loud and obnoxious I am bc i'd like to make fun of me, too.

and then you guys can yell at me for these last couple chapters lol. anyways, enjoy.

WARNING: semi-graphic violence

I was locking myself in the bedroom all day when I woke up. Harry would every now and then walk by, and just for his sake because I felt somewhat sympathy, I'd make noise or cough to make sure he knows I'm still here and I'm still alive.

Hunger was present, but I ignored it. There was no apetite, though it was hurting my stomach. I would lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Or play with the outline of the pillows. Anything to distract myself from my petrifying thoughts, but they only seemed to be intensified.

That wasn't the case, though. Every single thing I did, was wrong, and I've come to he conclusion that Fray might as well be right.

But I don't act upon my lucid, graphic visions of my tragic death. I just lay there. And I do nothing about.

It pisses me off that I never do anything. I wish I could handle this all by myself, but I'm not going to idiotically toss myself into a wolf's mouth, or the center of all my problems. So, evidently, I just lay there.

I think of everything that simply sums up my issues. I slept with my blood-unrelated cousin, I fell in love with my blood-unrelated cousin, my blood-unrelated cousin works for my sick uncle and fooled my sick dad, and now I'm sick, too.

In the tedious, painful drag my thoughts are, I'm startled when there is a bang heard. Not a gun, but a slam against the walls. When glass shattered, I was hopping off the bed and walking down hallways to follow the sound.

Harry stands with fists against the wall, head hanging low while he inhales and exhales heavily. My silence is prolonged as I stand there. There is a mess of shattered glass to the left of him, and his breathing is loud and hard.

I run a hand up and down my cheek and sigh, loud enough for him to hear. As he turns around, I watch and I see the frustrated look on his face.

The angry, hurt, and lost look. It's actually so odd, I find it a bit scary. The way he's showing some kind of emotion, means this is serious. And I don't doubt that, but I can't help but feel like I shouldn't forgive him.

His face softens to a tiny extent, but he does not move nor does he say anything. The man before me is so messed up. But that's the same man that insists he loves me. I can't help it when I think that he could be lying. Just like he lied about almost everything else.

In a moment of silence, he finally tries to speak. "Baby, --"

The nickname makes me cringe, and I shake my head. I'm hurt almost immediately. "Stop it," I warn him, and as he begins to walk towards me, I want to turn around, but I'm caught into his arms. Turned to face him, his body shields over mine. His arms wrap around me tightly, his head dipped down to remove distance between us.

"Stop it," I choke out, painful lump in my throat. My hands press against his chest roughly, but he forcefully grabs one and holds it tightly in his. "God, just stop --"

"Just listen to me." He insists firmly.

"I don't want your explanation," I sniffle out, prickling eyes with tears. "All you've done is l-lie to me."

Harry's eyes stare into mine, eyebrows furrowed. "I know. Fuck, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I won't lie to you when I say that I love you, Catalina."