Pour | Harry Styles

chapter seventeen

Louis and Eleanor screamed at each other, Harry stared frantically at Lily, still holding her tightly, and the rain was pouring so hard Lily found it hard to keep her eyes open. Agonizing pain seared through her as more cuts found their way on her body, appearing with more force than they had before. Lily screamed and screamed but Harry seemed frozen and Louis and Eleanor were too busy fighting to notice her.

The cuts suddenly stopped, though the pain was still there.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

Lily shook her head, trying to get some water off her hair. The rain beat down on her skin hard, as if pressuring her to answer.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“I don’t know—”

“Do you love me?” he asked, now screaming.

The cuts were now coming back, and Lily felt the pain again. She screamed loudly, this time not out of frustration, and not pain.

“Yes! But I—I don’t love what you’re doing to me!” finally left Lily’s lips.

All at once, the cuts stopped, now starting to actually fade from her skin, the rain stopped pouring, Louis and Eleanor vanished, and Harry’s hold on Lily was released.

 

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Lily woke up with a start, Gemma appearing beside her, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. Lily’s hands roamed her arms to feel for any cuts: nothing. She yanked her pajama bottom legs up, finding legs that’s only problem was that they were in need of a shave—no cuts though.

Breathing heavily, Lily immediately wrapped her arms around Gemma. A hug was the least she needed at the moment. The dream she’d just had had been so intense, so real-feeling that it was . .  . traumatizing. She could still feel the softness of Harry’s lips on hers and the sharpness of the cuts on her skin.

“Lily, what the hell was that? You were screaming as if you were being stabbed!” Gemma exclaimed, pulling away, her eyebrows furrowed together and her mouth open in an upside-down ‘D’ shape. Her usual silky black hair was messy and her eyes still had some morning crust in them. Guilt spread through Lily as she realized she’d woken the poor girl up with her screams.

“I’m so sorry, Gemma. I just had a really bad . . . nightmare,” explained Lily, noticing that her hands were moist with sweat when she rubbed at her eyes. She rubbed her hands against her pajama bottoms, trying to get the sweat off.

“Yeah, I would think so,” Gemma said, exhaling loudly. She ran a hand through her hair and then rubbed her green eyes. “Okay, I’m going to just brush my teeth and comb my hair real quick. After that I’ll make some cereal for the both of us and we’ll talk about your nightmare—I don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it, because with screams like those, I do.”

With those words, Gemma left what was actually her room. Lily slept in her room every time she and the boys visited. Gemma’s room was quite large and of course, very beautiful. It was especially designed to her liking, with a well-crafted, dark, queen sized bed with a headboard that reached up very high, pale green walls that were adorned with posters of musicians and bands or photos of family, crown molding, furniture that matched the bed’s dark color, a vanity in particular that’s surface ranged from holding make up to books to perfumes, and finally, a cream pull out couch that was put there specifically for Lily.

Lily got off the bed and stretched. Her stretch was ruined in mid-action as a shiver ran down her spine from the nightmare she’d just dreamt creeping into her mind. That was truly something out of this world. It had all felt so real to her. The pain of the cuts, Harry screaming at her, the rain, Louis and Eleanor . . .  it all was so . . . there. She could still feel the rain on her skin and the sweat still building on her skin didn’t help but make her feel as if she was still drenched in water.