Sex Lessons [h.s// fanfic]

Chapter 14- A drunk mans truth

S t e l l a 

Here Harry was, sitting on my bed, drunk and completely wasted. The way he was wobbling up the stairs, and the fact that he couldn't even hold his head up properly made my stomach twist.

I was initially going to sit under the usual spot under the slide at the park and watch the time past by, but as usual, Harry shattered my plans.

My hand was tightly nestled in his and flat against his beating heart. Feeling his heart beat made my own heart rate accelerate.

I held my breath.

He opened his mouth to speak but snapped his lips shut and titled his head slightly.

He leaned in closer to me and squinted.

"The fuck is that on your face?" He let go of my hand and brought his forefinger up to my cheek, which was swollen and freshly bruised. I winced as his fingers brushed across the throbbing pain my father had afflicted upon me.

I still didn't know how to feel about it, I didn't know if I should be throwing tables, or, or if I should be calling the police, or if I should tell my mother. If I should even tell Harry.

I shied away from him and tried to cover up the skin by hiding it with my hair, but he grabbed hold of my wrist before I could completely turn away from him.

"Who did this to you, was it Niall?" He raised his voice suddenly, but I shushed him.

I shook my head quickly, and cowered back from him as he suddenly stood to his full height.

"I'm gonna knock his skull in," He growled. 

"Harry, he didn't do anything, it's nothing" I grabbed his hand and caressed his knuckles. 

"Do I look stupid to you?" His voice seemed to be more clear, and understandable now that he was beginning to sober up. "Stella!"

"Harry, it was an accident okay, just leave it alone." I pleaded.

He took hold of my wrist and tugged me into the bathroom. He flicked the light open and looked around expeditiously, searching for god knows what, then pried open the cabinets underneath us. He pulled out a first aid kit, and placed it on the counter. 

I watched him as he opened it and faced me. He stared down my bruise, and bit his lip with so much pressure, it flushed white.

He grabbed hold of my waist and hoisted me on top of the counter and opened my legs with one swift movement. 

I flushed and looked down at the tile under me.

His breathing seemed to have kicked up a notch as his shaky hands rubbed ointment onto the bruise that made my cheekbones swell.

He avoided eye contact with me as he did so. 

I gulped.

He finally looked at me, but for only a split second. He continued to rub the ointment in, and I clenched my jaw to mute the whimpers and hisses that were threatening to escape my mouth. I didn't want to irritate Harry, he was far irritated already. He was more indignant then irritated to say the least, but I didn't blame him.

I didn't have the slightest clue on how to explain this bruise without enraging Harry any further. If he found out that it was my father who gave me this bruise, he wouldn't hesitate to beat his skull in, as he threatened Niall.

"Harry.." I whispered, my voice shook slightly as I dared to make eye contact with him.

"Are you gonna tell me who did this or not. Because I have a clue," He snapped.