Letting Go (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter 39: Broken

Natalie

I grunted, throwing the tiny ball against the floor once again. As it bounced back up, I reached out and clutched it tightly in my hand. Drop. Bounce. Hold. Drop. Bounce. Hold. I tried to focus on the ball: the rubber texture, the weight - slightly heavier than a quarter, the deep green color - almost like Harry's eyes. I groaned inwardly. I didn't like the fact that Harry was with his dad and I had no idea how he was doing. Were they fighting and screaming at each other? Were they working it out? I didn't have a clue and it was making me anxious. I hoped that he was okay.

Also, I was almost positive that something was going on with Harvard this week, I just didn't know what. Was his dad making him go back? I knew Harry was so against it, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe his father would let him major in something else or go to another college. Harry was brilliant, he just didn't want to be a lawyer. There was no shame in that; he was so great at so many things. Surely his dad knew that.

Suddenly, the lock on the door clicked. The ball fell to the floor, bouncing several times and rolling under the couch. I panicked, plucking the damp cloth from the side table and placing it over my forehead. As the door creaked open, my eyes fell shut.

Footsteps thudded against the floor louder and louder. I slowed down my breathing, praying that Uncle Ben wouldn't try to "wake" me and ask how I was feeling again. I was having trouble coming up with more lies and excuses not to get off the couch. I felt him sit on the side arm, right above my head, and place his hand on my hair.

"Not bad Nattie. It's a shame that you're actually a mouth breather and you drool when you sleep." He chuckled.

I jerked my head away, eyes wide as I gazed upon the one and only Harry Styles. He was wearing his Rolling Stones baseball t with black skinny jeans. His hair was extra sloppy and curly from running his hands through it too much and he wore that sarcastic smirk that made me want to smack him and hug him all at the same time. "What are you doing here?"

The other side of his mouth lifted in a smile and his green eyes grew brighter. "That's all I get?" He teased, pulling at my hair. "I just blew off my vacation and flew four thousand miles to get here."

My eyes widened. Oh no. "Wait, what about your father? Are you okay?" I sat up quickly, ignoring the throbbing in my hip.

"Calm down firecracker. You're supposed to be sick, remember?" He chuckled and sat down on my left.

I smacked him on the shoulder. "Harry I'm being serious. Why did you come back early?" The bags under his eyes were more prominent and his humor didn't quite reach his irises. Something was wrong.

His mouth formed a straight line as he studied me. Whatever he was worrying about was running through his head a mile a minute, causing his eyebrows to furrow anxiously. He took a deep breath and put his arm around me, pulling me into his chest. "I decided that you were right." He spoke finally, forcing his voice up an octave.

I blinked. Did Harry Styles just tell me I was right? I tilted my head up and examined his face. "About what?"

"You said that there was a big difference between standing up for something and just rebelling for the sake of rebellion. You were right."

I sat up straight. "What?"

He chuckled and squeezed my shoulder. "Don't make me say it again. It hurts."

I was beyond confused. "But, what does that mean? You stood up to your father?"

"In a way, yeah." He leaned back, his eyes focused on something past me. "I'm done letting him control me Nat. I'm making my own decisions now. I'm going to fight for what I want."