Fight Club (h.s.)

Part 13

A gasp leaves my lips, sitting upright from the traumatic nightmare replaying through my mind. The dark eyes of the attacker that had inflicted pain upon me remain in my mind, my head pounding even more now that I'd sat up quickly. Beads of sweat run over my skin, my erratic breathing intent on slowing.

"Elle," a raspy voice whispers, a rough hand grabbing my waist lightly.

"Elle, beautiful, what's wrong?" Harry whispers, pulling me into his arms.

"Nightmare," I whisper, his hand smoothing over my forehead. He kisses the skin after, holding me to his warm body.

"I'm right here. He won't get to you again," he assures, his promising tone relaxing me into him.

He lays down and I rest beside him, his arms pulling me to cuddle beside him.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask, his head nodding.

"Of course," he says, my hand setting over the bird tattoo on his chest.

"Does it bother you...that I'm waking up with nightmares?" I wonder. It's a question that's crossed my mind before, but this is my third nightmare this week. Harry's always by my side, easing the pain and helping me fall back asleep.

"No. Not at all," he says, brushing my hair back.

"I enjoy having you in my arms. You somehow maneuver out and next thing I know, you're panting from a nightmare," he explains, my breathing calm and collected.

"How do you hold me?" I wonder, never actually paying close attention. All I know is we're entwined.

"Lightly. I don't wish to hurt you," he whispers, my finger brushing the crease between his pectorals. His tight skin is muscular and I look up, his lips pressing between my brows.

"You can hold me tighter. I like being held," I tell him, his arm pulling me closer.

"Why is that?" he asks, his eyes looking down at me. It's a fact I hadn't told anyone, but I trust Harry.

"My mom used to hold me. She'd sing to me," I tell him, smiling at the memories.

"No one has ever held me since and being with you...i-it's comforting," I whisper, my hand grabbing his.

I close my eyes, remembering the nights I'd be comforted by my mother. Those were my earliest memories and I almost never think of them, but when I do, I either cry or smile.

His fingers grab my chin and he lifts my head, kissing my forehead. He moves his arms around me tightly and I curl into him, resuming his comfort.

"I won't leave you," he whispers. "Not to fend for yourself."

He squeezes me closer and I sigh in contentment, safe with Harry holding me. Slowly, I drift back asleep and remain tightly in his arms.

The loud hum of my phone wakes me up, my body unable to move. Harry's grip on my body renders me motionless, his left side draped over me in a protective hold. Reaching over, I grab my phone and unlock his arms, leaving a kiss to his forehead.

"Hello?" I ask, walking out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

"Elle, I've been trying to reach you. Will you be coming here for Thanksgiving?" Jill asks, my lips curving.

Glancing over at the clock, the time nearly noon, I understand as to how this time of contact is reasonable.

"Yeah. What time?" I ask, moving to the coffee maker.

"Be here around four. Danny is excited to see you. Always asking about you," she says, my lips curving.

"Tell him I say hello. I'll be there," I say, two hands on my waist startling me slightly. We say goodbye and I hang up, Harry lips touching my neck lightly.