Midnight

Chapter 17:

Harrys POV:

I wake up with a killer headache. It's still dark out so it must not be morning, unless I slept all day.

Memories of last nights events flow through my mind.

One of my dads old clients attacking me. Belle showing up and somehow knowing the man. Her sticking up for me and punching him. Me, being the completely useless piece shit I am, just standing there and watching. The other man slamming Belle against the wall.

Rage fills my body.

Belle diving over him like a beautiful swan and knocking him off his feet. The guy pulling her, causing her to fall. Her kicking him and getting back up. Belle beating up the other guy and flipping him so he landed on the one that was already on the ground.

I can't believe she did that for me. After what I did to her.

I am beyond pissed at myself that I just stood there and watched her like an idiot. I just had to go get fucking drunk! This is all my fault! If she is hurt I don't know what I will do with myself.

More memory's come flowing in.

Belle driving me back home and helping me to bed. Her thinking I was asleep as she told me how she described me and traced my features.

My hands quickly go to the tattoos she traces where my skin yearned for her touch again.

To other people this would seem like such a small thing but for Belle that was a huge deal. My heart begins to beat faster as I relive the memory over and over again in my mind.

One last memory popped in at the end.

"Goodnight Harry." She had said and kissed my forehead.

All I want to do is hold her in my arms and see if she is ok. My whole body aches for her, and also cause I'm still furious at myself.

I roll over and the sound of paper being crushed sparks my attention. I pull it out from under me. It's a note from Belle. She must have read the one I left on my nightstand.





Dear my, hopefully for not much longer, Bodyguard

You are quite good at this writing thing and should really look into that.

I understand why you did what you did. I'm sorry for not telling you what it was in the first place and avoiding that whole conflict. I'm also sorry that I horribly overreacted, which I won't admit to often. I will be happy, and a little reluctant, to let you read the book once I am finished with it.

(I wrote the character Harry before I met you so I did not base his looks off of you. And yes One Direction is a band I made up. I am both Kate and Amber. Kate is my more sarcastic and goofy side and Amber is my more serious and deep side.)

You may have not have been calm on the inside the other night but on the outside you were and that strength helped me calm down and pull myself together so thank you.

And when you say: 'You did make me swear off women, but not in the way you think. You made me swear off women cause all I want is you.' ARE YOU SAYING IM NOT A WOMEN? Cause last time I checked I am.

I am just buckets full of crazy so just remember that when you say you will never run away.

I have to disagree with you on what you want to happen after all this though. I surely do not hope that nothing changes. I hope that we become even closer, metaphorically cause I don't think I could handle you following me around any closer. I also hope, although I know it's unlikely, that we become more than friends. But I know how you feel about that so I'll just drop it.

Just a fair warning I will most likely keep this shirt so I hope you are not sentimentally bonded to it or some shit.

Well now it's gonna forever bother me about how that marker got into your bathroom.

- Belle

Ps, I am sad to report that this letter was written with me in full clothing.

And don't be silly, no matter how mad I get I will most likely always talk to you again.

(Don't take that as a personal challenge to see how pissed you can make me before I begin to ignore you)





I smile and read the letter over and over again. How come we can get along so well in writing but in reality it is much harder?

How she would change from being deep to funny in a matter of sentences makes me smile even more.

I take out a piece of paper and decide to write her a reply. I did what I did before and temporally take down all my walls and let my subconscious write what I truly feel. When I finish I read it over.



Dear Belle,

I love you.

- Your, hopefully soon to be more then, bodyguard



My heart rate picks up dramatically as I drop the pen and stare at the paper.

Love? I defiantly didn't expect myself to write that.

I think about it for a while. It's pretty accurate. I mean I think this is how love is supposed to feel right? The realization scares the shit out of me. I was never supposed to fall in love. I sure as hell didn't expect it to be with someone like Belle.

The more I think about it the more it warms me inside. I love her. I actually love her.

I've gotta talk to her. I swing my legs off the bed and a wave of nausea hit me.

Maybe I will talk to her later. I lay back down on my back.

I love her.

I glance at the clock,

Midnight.