Broken

Chapter 2

I looked at him, not sure what to say. He looked genuinely worried and I bit the inside of my cheek. "Alright, fine..."

He let go of my wrist and instantly dropped the facade. All emotion was gone from his face and his lips curled into that smirk again. "Knew you couldn't say no."

I rolled my eyes and opened the door to my dorm, stepping in and getting the desk ready.

He looked around my room and scoffed, sitting down in the only chair in the room. "This place is a fucking pigsty."

"Language," I muttered, trying to reach the top of the shelf in my room to reach the history books on top. I usually used the chair, but since he was sitiing in it, I couldn't.

I looked back at him, he on his phone. "Can you put that down and help me get these books?"

"You just want an excuse to get me to get up." He said, getting up but not bothering to try and come help me, frowning at his phone again. I shook my head and walked over, grabbing the chair and pushing it over to the desk, reaching over to get the books.

Harry stood by the desk as he read a text message he had gotten on his phone. His eyebrows were furrowed and I put the chair back. "You can, um, sit."

He sat down, not even bothering to say thank you. I reached for the stool under my bed and perched on it awkwardly. He made no effort to put his phone away.

"Can you put that away?" I asked, a tad annoyed.

He looked at me. "Oh, is it bothering you?" He asked sarcastically.

"Yes, it is actually." I replied without hesitation, and this startled him. I guess he wasn't used to people talking back to him.

He ignored me, glaring at me, but he did put his phone away after sending one last text. "Why are you sitting on that stool?" He asked.

"I don't have another chair."

He looked at the stool, and back at me, and he hesitated for a minute... and for a second I thought he would offer me the chair, like a gentleman. But he didn't. His smirk re-appeared and he looked at the books. "Come on, teach me about the black plague and shit."

*-~*

After about an hour and a half or so, we were making some progress. "So the doctors wore these masks to not get the disease but it really also made them look like creeps?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips as he stared at the picture printed on the page.

"Sorta, the masks were meant to protect them from putrid air," I explained.

He nodded, looking at another picture of a doctor and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. Only slightly, but it was a smile. It was the first I had seen him smile, not smirk. And I couldn't help but smile too. "Moving on..."

He looked at me suspiciously, his smile - or his tiny smile still there. "What?"

"What?"

"Why're you smiling?" He asked me, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Your smile... It's infectious." I couldn't help but smile some more.

Instantly, he dropped the smile and looked away. "I don't smile."

I frowned, "You smiled."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"Didn't."

"You did."

"Brenna!" He inhaled sharply, whatever fun he had in him gone. "Drop it. I didn't smile, you must be going slightly blind."

I looked away, slightly hurt. His phone beeped, and he pulled it out. He cursed under his breathe and got up, sticking his arm out. I assumed he was asking to help me stand, we had both ditched using chairs and stools about twenty minutes ago.

"I don't want or need your help." I told him, and he grabbed wrists and pulled me up, holding on rather tightly. I winced, and he instantly loosened his grip. "Don't be a drama queen, I didn't hold on to them that hard."

It wasn't because of how hard he'd held on, it was because he'd touched the still fresh cuts and burns. I wasn't going to appologise for being a "drama queen" though, so I kept quiet.

"I need to go. Tomorrow, we're going to study again."

"But it's Saturday," I pointed out.

"So?"

"I don't tutor on Saturdays."

"You do now," he said, and once again before I could protest, he was gone. 

I shook my head and sat down on my bed. Once he had began loosening up, and that small smile appeared he wasn't actually so bad. He was still a douche though. 

I wondered who had texted him. Probably some slut's number he had, and they had made plans to have a little fuck session. I rolled my eyes and decided to watch some Criminal Minds, I didn't have any lessons or lectures to attend, and Criminal Minds was one of my favourite shows.

I ended up watching the whole of season five, and I fell asleep in the middle of the first episode of season seven, still thinking about who Harry had texted.

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A/N: Helloooo again guys. I got 17 reads  within an hour, oh my god thats amazing :D might not seem like a lot but its progress!

who do we think Harry was texting, oooooh? i know so far its uneventful but trust me, this is leading on to chapters and chapters of drama.... so stay tuned :)

thank you so much for reading i love you all sooooooooo much :)

I start school tomorrow, ew. :(

 xoxo