Innocence Lost (Official)

Chapter 17

At the age of twenty two, sexualizing a sixteen year old is wrong, Harry Styles, he mentally chastised himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, imprinting the thought in his head. "Y-Yeah. I can't possibly begin to know what's made you so tired," he laughed, trying to cover his discomfort.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at the girl and saw her with her eyes closed and her face turned up. Harry briefly wondered if she was seriously still tired. "What got you up?" he asked, trying to create conversation. Harry buttered an English muffin while the oven heated up. He glanced up at Laney who shrugged.

"Uh... bad dream," she yawned.

Harry raised his eyebrows and hummed to himself knowingly. That's not what it sounded like, he thought ignorantly. "What was it about?" he pestered, expecting her to fluster and lie to him.

But the girl sighed and said, "Something that has happened but won't."

Harry frowned in confusion, unclear about what she meant but when he looked back at her he saw she was playing with the ends of her hair. "What do you mean?" he questioned.

She exhaled and then straightened her neck. "It started off as..." Laney trailed off, a very slight fluster coloring her cheeks, "an okay dream, you know? But then suddenly it was a nightmare. And... the dream part has... kind of happened already, but the dark part of it all was..." She trailed off once again and her hand clenched while she tightened her jaw. "Jake kind of appeared," she mumbled. Harry's actions sort of paused at the mention of the guy. Harry was hoping they'd moved past that, but it was especially stupid for him to act as though that situation was something someone can just move past.

He cleared his throat and turned to her. "I can promise you, Angel, he won't be a problem of yours for a while. It's all in your head," he mumbled.

Laney sighed and tiredly dropped her face against the counter. "That is the problem," she insisted. "How the hell do I escape my own head?" Her voice became an angry growl while Harry turned off the stove and sighed. He moved to the oven and put on a mitt.

"You can't. But your mind is your territory. Kick him out," Harry shrugged, hoping if he made it sound simple it would become simple. "Obviously he'll always be just on the outside, ready to get back in when the door is open, but you need to be sure you can acknowledge the situation and, yes, the severe trauma it is, but don't let it dictate your life." Harry was hoping she understood him, but her expression seemed slightly baffled when he shut the oven.

"Okay... let me get this straight..." She spoke after a moment. "You were metaphorically speaking of my mind and using it as a house?" she questioned.

Harry had a plate ready for her and when he turned around and placed it under her he corrected, "More than that. This place up here," he tapped on her head making her giggle. "It's a part of your home." Harry smiled at her and shook his head. "Don't let him do that to it."

Laney looked at Harry, long and hard as she processed her words. She looked down at her plate and sighed. When she met his eyes again she nodded. "You know... besides all that slightly psychopathic criminal stuff, you're..." She trailed off and averted her eyes, swallowing a lump in her throat. "You're pretty amazing," she amended aloud after a moment.