Harry didn't drive away in a hurry like he was supposed to. I was sat impatiently beside him in the car, my eyes wide as I awaited him to take off down the road. But he sat still.
He was picking the glass out of his hand, wincing in pain every so often as he took everything rather slowly. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He whispered, clearing his throat straight.
"No, I mean, are you okay?" I asked again, part of me wondering if he'd break down in tears and tell me no. But instead he simply nodded his head.
"I'm fine." He mumbled, but then all of a sudden a car engine was heard in front of us. It was a silver Mercedes, and Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at it intently.
He put his hand on the door, ready to open it but I yanked him back inside. "Do you know who's in that car?"
I spoke too soon as they pulled into the driveway in Harry's old house, where we watched them from the other side of the road. Then the car door opened and out walked a middle aged woman with long, dark hair, and someone as I could only presume as her husband joining her.
"That's my mum... and... I don't know," he squinted to get a more clear look, then he asked himself. "Who the fuck is that with her?"
Both of them approached the front door, where they noticed the shattered pot alongside them. "Shit, they know. Harry, come on, we need to go."
Dismayed and afraid, the couple hastily entered the house and slamming the door behind them. Harry then barged out of the car and began stumbling towards the house behind them. Sighing and rolling my eyes, I tiredly caught up with him and grabbed his hand in attempt to pull him back.
"We're gonna go to jail if you don't get back in the fucking car-"
"Then run right now," He turned back towards me. "Don't want to get caught? Don't follow me."
"I...I..." I huffed, struggling to find an answer. "Ugh."
He only stood in the window and stared aimlessly into the disrupted living room as it bathed in broken glass and blood. The man and Harry's mother marched by the broken frames, both of them crossing their arms and shaking their heads in confusion. As the man turned around to check the other rooms, Harry's mother stood still and did nothing but stare at the mess in front of her.
Harry shook his head. "Why isn't she calling the police?"
But then suddenly her gaze turned to the window, and she caught sight of us. I flinched, backing away but it was too late. Harry's eyes softened as she stepped slowly towards the window, right opposite us where I frightfully stood.
But she grabbed either end of the dark satin curtains either side of her and angrily yanked them shut. Harry stood back, his fingers losing their grip around my hand as he went completely silent.
"She doesn't want that guy to know I'm here." He spoke to himself.
"He probably doesn't know who you are." I ushered softly.
Harry angrily inhaled, his face so tense it was about to turn to stone. "He's about to."
"Don't you fucking dare." I jumped in front of him as he marched towards the front door, my body blocking his way.
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Call Boy. (Harry Styles Fan Fiction) on holdFanfiction
Harley Thomas; an anxiously wrecked Christian who thrives on judging those who sin. Harry Styles; an emotionally wrecked Atheist who thrives on sinning.