Walk Away h.s punk/au

8.

a/n: I think this song's pretty good for this chapter...and the Karry relationship.

Monday morning I walked into school with Harry. My parents somehow found out where I was Friday night. They said they had a feeling but I knew it was Dylan.

At 9:30 Friday night there had been a knock on Harry's door. Liam paused the film as Harry gently pushed me off his lap, and stood, stretching. I whimpered at the movement not wanting to leave his comfort. His shirt riding up revealing the trace of tattoos on his stomach. Crossing the floor to the door, he opened it. His face paling.

"Katherine!" my parents snapped.

Niall snickered as I slowly stood behind Harry. "You told us you were at  friend's house working on a project." my mother said her hawk like eyes staring into my sole for a lie.

"I am." I replied.

My dad's hands trembled as he said, "No your not. You're with this boy."

Taken aback by the spite in his voice I got defensive. Harry was my friend, turning into something more, not just some boy. I took a step out from behind the wall of Styles.

"'This Boy' happened to have a name." I squeaked out, feeling like I could vomit. Here I was talking back to my parents over a boy. "His name is Harry Styles and he's had it tough. He's the boy I always fancied. He's the one I talked about every day after school. He's the one who brought his cat to school for Show- and- Tell. He's the one I saved every Valentine from that we got at those stupid parties." One of the boys awed at my confession, but I was to preoccupied to tell which one it had been.

"You're right!" I shouted, "I'm not doing a project. But what we're doing is like one. We're seeing what happens when to friends from different groups decide to hang out."

My parents stared Harry down in shock. "You've....changed." she said while my dad glared down the tattoos on his neck.

He cleared his throat quietly before making direct eye contact with my dad. "Physically: yes. Inwardly: no. I'm the same on the inside as I was before, and Katherine sees that." I doubted this given the trauma he had suffered, but it was a good point in the argument. "I only want to make her happy."

Though he had stopped talking, his eyes were sending messages to my parents. His green gaze was intense enough for me to see what he was thinking: I know. I know what you do. I've been in her shoes. I can be her escape.

My dad seemed to mull this over. He nodded grabbing Harry's outstretched hand to shake. His grip was to tight on Harry's that his knuckles were white. He whispered something threatening in his ear, but Harry seemed unfazed. His taller, younger figure stared down at my father's shorter, older one. I caught Harry swallowing. He blinked slowly, the kind that had a purpose.

Harry's next words were deliberate and a low blow. A deserved blow, but low nonetheless. "I won't walk out on her" he paused before adding a half-hearted, "sir." It sealed every thought they had on Harry. We were something, and he knew everything.

My parents gave an awkward, hurried goodbye before fleeing to the car, and leaving. I watched my mother turn in her seat, facing her husband. Her mouth opened and I knew she was screaming. Probably how it was his fault I'm doing this. Maybe she's right or maybe I was supposed to end up with Harry, I don't know. A set of arms rested on my waist, their huge hands holding my hips.

"What do you think is going to happen to them?" I asked leaning back into Harry's chest.

He sighed for a second. "What happened to mine. But," his nose brushed into my hair, "I'll be here for you." It was my turn to sigh. "How much trouble have I gotten you in?" he mumbled.

"A lot" I confessed turning to face his chest. Raising up on my tiptoes I rubbed the tip of my nose into his neck, "but you're worth it."

As soon as I had gotten home the lectures began. There was a screaming match about lying- which I screamed that if I said I was with Harry they wouldn't have gotten to see his good side. Then there was the "No" talk. Again, a round of yelling followed when I lazily replied, "I know." In my defense, it was four in the morning, and my butt was hurting due to the previous hours sitting on the bar stool.

It was a true miracle that when Harry called Sunday evening, asking to take me to school that they said yes. They watched carefully as Harry opened the door for me and actually waved when he honked.  Both decided that being a little late to an appointment at the dentist and work would be alright, translating to: We aren't leaving you alone with that boy.

His large fingers laced with mine as we walked into the crowed hallways. He growled as a sporty boy ran down the hall bumping into me. Harry decided though, that he didn't mind, seeing as how it pulled me closer to him.

Bending down to get into my locker he stopped me. "Why don't you have the top?" he suggested.

"I'm to short to reach the hooks." I mumbled staring at his feet, noticing his boots were wearing out.

Before he could laugh, an annoyingly familiar voice called out from behind me, "Katherine! What the Hell? Don't you listen to your parents?!" There was a smirk on Dylan's face as he drew closer.

Harry's jaw set, his fist clenched. "Dylan, What the Hell? My parents are okay with it." I tried to joke, but neither Harry nor Dylan thought it was funny.

"I thought my calling would've stopped this." he said, grabbing my wrist.

"They're cool with it." I said again, trying to pull away.

"Let her go." Harry growled advancing to Dylan.

Dropping my wrist, Dylan chuckled. He hadn't changed at all. He was still the same jerk as before. "What are you going to do Styles? Hit me? Wouldn't want you mum to get mad would you? Oh wait, I forgot."

Before he could say anything else, Harry's fist connected with Dylan's jaw.