Strings Attached (Harry Styles FanFiction)

24. Thirty Seconds

“I’m trying to protect the girl I love.”

“And you’re really doing a bang up job, Styles! You put me in a cast for three weeks and then the day I get it off I’m assaulted by my abusive ex-boyfriend but, hey, it’s okay! My pop star of a boyfriend says he’s going to protect me!” I shrieked, literally ripping my hair out of my scalp.

“I could if you’d just let me,” he thundered, large hands fisting at his sides as he endured my verbal barrage.

“You need to leave,” I said, my voice came out louder and more confident than I had expected as I stared at the wall behind him, fighting against every cell in my body that was screaming for me to just take it all back.

“What? No! Fuck, I’m not just going to leave.”

“Get out or I will call the cops.”

“Oh, sure, now you want to talk to the police.”

“You have thirty seconds or I will press send,” I threatened, picking up the cell phone that I’d had to buy recently; my other still hadn’t shown up and it was hell living without one.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” When he didn’t react, I quirked an eyebrow up at him, “One. Two. Three.” 

He stepped towards me and my heart raced, “Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.”

“Cassandra don’t you dare,” he growled, his nose inches from my own, my tiny phone shining bright between us, the emergency number illuminated on the screen.

“Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine.”

“Quit acting like a spoiled fucking brat for five minutes and talk to me!” He roared, vise-like hands crushing my wrists as he pinned them above my head. I shrieked, kicking at him as his eyes clouded over with rage, completely transforming him into the monster of my nightmares. I swore I could feel the fragile bones in my wrists fracture in his grip and tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Let go of me! Let go of me!” I screamed, struggling and failing to free myself. Black, fury filled slits glared down at me as I was forced to relive the terrors I had been so determined to leave behind me.

I cried out in pain when suddenly his grip tightened, "Stop! You're hurting me!"

Seconds later something snapped, the shadows slipped away, leaving only horrified green orbs in their place. His grip loosened enough for me to rip free and he stepped backwards, panic filling his gaze as he watched me fall back against the wall.

“Cassie... I-” His voice broke as he stepped towards me, traitorous hands outstretched in a façade of innocence.

“No! Don’t you dare fucking touch me! Don’t touch me ever again!” I sobbed, terrified by how easily he had transformed into the demon that haunted my every waking hour.

“Angel, please! I-I didn’t mean to...-”

“No! It doesn’t matter what I say! You’re just like him Harry! You’re exactly the same!” I didn’t wait for him to respond, I knew from his aghast expression that I had struck a nerve.

“You’re so caught up in your perfect little rich boy life that you can’t see what’s right in front of your face! You don’t care about the people you hurt! All you can ever focus on is yourself!” I sobbed, cradling my wrists in my lap. The red lines were already deepening into a darker shade of plum. Great. Just fucking great.

“Your life is so sheltered and perfect! You literally have people censoring every single aspect of it! ‘Hey! Look what this tabloid wrote about Harry! Oh wait, no. He can’t see that. It will hurt his feelings. Here let me throw a wad of money at it and it will just go away.’ Well guess what, Harry. It’s time to wake the fuck up. The world doesn’t work like that! It fucking sucks. People are heartless and sick. They will hurt you just because. They don’t need a fucking reason other than the fact that it makes them feel better! And guess what, Pop-Star? You’re one of them.” Without a second glance, I stormed into my flat, turning and slamming the door shut in his face.