Broken Misery (H.Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 15

"And I want to drive you to school," he replies quickly without missing a beat. "What time should we leave at?"

The headache doesn't seem to vanish even with the ibuprofen I took earlier, and Harry's mood isn't helping. So I stab my fork into three pancakes and a few pieces of bacon, and place them on my plate before pouring a great amount of maple syrup over the whole thing, half of my spare hand included. Before Harry can say anything, I push the chair back and head to the stairs. I can hear him calling after me, but his voice is deafened when I close the door to my room and sit on the bed with my laptop.

At least my phone still charges. I plug it into my computer and through the multiple cracks, I can see the battery charging icon appear in the corner while it vibrates for half a second. If the exam doesn't finish too late, I could probably make it to the store in time to buy a new one or to get the screen changed, and then take the bus from there back home. Then again, if the exam lasts all three hours and I get out of it feeling like a failure for the second time in forty-eight hours, Alfie and I might want to head to the pub and drink our weights in alcohol. I truly hope we don't need to follow the second option, but it'd be the most reasonable thing to do if we were to struggle during the test.

"Elena," Harry barks from the other side of the door, his fist furiously knocking against the wood.

"Go away," I call back child-likely. "I don't want to talk to you."

The things he said last night flash in my mind one after the other. Harry is capable of really bad things, but I never thought he would actually use the kidnapping to his advantage. The way he'd force himself on me... Please, slow down. The smiles, the compliments, usually followed by excuses and anger, and I'm the dramatic bitch who takes advantage of him.

"Baby," he trails off, "open the door for me."

While I wish I had the physical and mental strength to put on my headphones and ignore him, my feet drag me out of bed before I can do otherwise. Maybe if I give him a small chance, or explain how I feel, he'll apologize. "What do you want?" I snap as I open the door wide open.

A small smirk plays on his lips but he doesn't say anything until he's comfortably sat on the edge of his old bed. "You're angry," he repeats from earlier, his eyebrows dancing up to his forehead.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I hadn't noticed," I snarl, but he gives me a disapproving look, so I look down apologetically. "Yes, I'm mad."

He gives me a firm nod and pinches his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger nervously. "May I know why?"

"You know why!" I complain, trying to keep my voice low not to increase the pounding. Harry lifts an eyebrow encouragingly, so I continue. "Harry, do you really think I'll forgive you so easily? You broke my phone. You called me a bitch. You said some pretty fucked up shit, damn it!"

"Oh," he says quietly, frowning. This time, I'm the one to raise an eyebrow in encouragement. "You're really angry."

I throw my hands in the air in exasperation, but he doesn't remove that smug look off his face. "God, Harry. You're so immature. Of course I'm angry. Did you really think I'd be in a good mood after all the things you said? I'm trying to go on with my life, Harry. And I'm doing a great job at it but you have to rub everything in my face."

"Oh, believe me. I want to rub it in your face but I once made a promise that I'd keep it in my pants," he winks.

The fact that he doesn't take anything seriously feels like a punch in the guts. I push back the tears that are growing at the back of my eyes and sigh as I get off of the bed with my plate in hand. Harry follows me down to the kitchen, his bare feet slamming against the wooden floor, but he watches me and doesn't talk until I've rinsed my plate and stored it in the dishwasher.

He carefully coughs when I'm done, catching my attention, but I grip at the sink and breathe in. "El, I thought we were fine. Last night you said you didn't want to fight, and I figured you meant it. Why do you have to be so confusing?"

"I'm not confusing, Harry. I was drunk, tired and sad, but there's nothing confusing there." I turn around to face him and I'm happy to see that he's stopped smiling. Finally. "Look, I have to get ready. We'll talk when I get back from school, alright?"

But he follows me upstairs again. "Your class is at two, yeah? My meeting's at one-thirty, so I'll drop you off at one, alright?"

"I'm taking the bus," I argue, turning the lights on as I walk into the bathroom.

"No, you're not."

He stands by the doorframe with his arms crossed while I remove the makeup I slept with. "Yes, I am."

Though I know ignoring him as I rinse my face won't help, I do hope that he simply walks out of the room and closes the door behind him. But instead, he bitterly chuckles and takes a few steps closer until he has his palms flat against the countertop, and is looking right at me through the mirror. "After the shit you pulled last night, I can't quite trust you. So I'll drive you to school, and I'll be right by your class when your exam ends, is that clear?"

His voice is so low that it sends a shiver down my spine, but for once I need to stand my ground. "You can't trust me? Go fu -" I quickly cut my word short, but his eyes widen in warning anyway. "Just go, Harry. Go to your meeting, go do whatever you have to do, and leave me alone, please."

"Elena," he breathes, and I gulp at the huskiness of my name rolling on his tongue. "Look at me, Elena."

"No." My hand towel is stained with black eyeliner and mascara, my skin now free of any makeup residue, but I keep on rinsing not to have to face him.

His breathing grows impatient and uneven, until he warns again, "Elena."

"What?" I hiss and throw the towel in the sink, where it splashes in the water that has accumulated around the drain.

I expect him to snap, to hit me or to curse, but to my biggest surprise, he wraps his long arms around my waist and plants his lips on my temple. "I'm sorry, okay? I was mad, and I thought something had happened to you. I'm allowed to get worried, and I didn't mean any of it."

His pouty lips graze my skin as he talks, which is extremely distracting, especially with the reflection in the mirror. But his words seem genuine and I'm sick of fighting, so I simply nod.

"Good," he says with a smile. "Now get ready, we're leaving at a quarter to one."

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Chapter end notes:

Good evening ladies and ladies! (I don't believe there are any gentlemen)

Did you see the Perfect Music Video? I think it's literally perfect!!*-*

And thank god Liam's fine :-)

But Elena is finally growing a pair! I like how she's resisting Harry a little, he needs to fight to get her, and he certainly ain't doing the right thing for now!

Love you guys!! xxxx

Don't forget to comment and vote!!Thanks :D

-Katexx