Prince Harry Ih.sI

30

"No, please no!" I try to yell at the man, but I can barely hear my own words. I hit against his chest, shouting at him to let go of me. However, I'm not too sure my hits are enough to change his mind because soon my wrist starts to hurt and I cry out in even more pain.

"Louis, bring her to me." King Covetous asks happily.

I turn away from the man's chest so I can stare at Harry. I cry harder as we near him. I'm able to see that his arms and ankles are tied up. He has cuts, scabs and scars all over his face and upper arms. His lips are puffy, his cheekbones are puffy and some parts of his skin are a bit peeled, from what seems like a series of multiple punches.

His blazer is off, his once adorable black and white colored shirt has parts that are stained with blood and I can't help but notice that areas where the patterned hearts are were ripped. How ironic. His skinny jeans are ripped at the knees like mine and I see scratches on them, as well as patches of blood on the jean. His shoes are off and so are his socks, his feet bent at the legs of the chair, only his toes touch the ground. 

His head is down as I stand directly in front and to the right of him. I notice a drop of his saliva leaving his lips. I try to reach my hand out to him, but my body is unable too -I've never felt this much pain in my life... not even when death chose my parents. I close my eyes shut. 

Covetous nods, observing my shaky body. I can't see him as more and more tears blur my vision. 

"H-Harry?" I whisper. 

"It's Louis." Covetous tells me, his smile wider than ever. 

I shake my head and hit the man's chest once more. "Put me down," I mumble against his shirt. 

"Is she aware of her actions?" Covetous questions Louis, his voice filled with concern. 

Yes, of course I fucking am.

"Yes, I didn't drug her. We just hit them. Her wrist and right ankle seem sprained. She was bleeding a bit from the top of her head. Her right ribs may be bruised because we hit the right side of the car where she sat and-"

"Shut the fuck up," Harry slowly manages to say. 

I cry louder. Not only cause I've finally heard his voice but since I can taste the pain inflated with it. Hell with my bruises and cuts, I can't handle seeing him let alone hearing his discomfort; my heart aches more and more.

Covetous puts his left hand down on Harry's right shoulder, loud and hard, patting him. 

"Drop her," he asks Louis. And without hesitation Louis drops me. 

I fall to the floor with an umf. I curl into a ball. My ribs feel bruised and it hurts to stretch them. I don't dare to stand as I remember Louis saying my ankle is sprained and though I hate the idea, he's probably correct.

"You're probably going to be bruised tomorrow." Harry smiles, tracing an area over my barely noticeable hip bone. 

"Oh God, Harry."

"I'm sorry... I can't keep my hands to myself when it comes to you," Harry says. His elbows rest on the mattress beside my head, his naked body on top of mine.

"I hate the feeling of bruises," I admit, biting my lip, moving my hand up and down his bicep, while he flexes.

"Well then, think of me when you see the bruise. Remember that it came from good love-making." He smiles, kissing my lips then nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. I put my hands in his hair, pulling lightly at it.