Sonata (Harry Styles FanFiction)

35. Veni, Vidi, Vici

"You had to have done something," she sobbed, rolling off of me to sit up on the bed. Her legs hung off the edge, her face in her hands. Her entire body shook, "You had to have. That never... I never dream of..." she trailed off. Fucking hell. All of this because I'd touched her scar? I paled. How could I tell her I'd been feeling her up as she slept? Actually, she'd probably laugh at that and make some ridiculous comment.

"Darien, I-."

"How many times do I have to fucking tell you?" She shrieked suddenly, jumping up off of the bed. She took the sheet with her, wrapping it around her naked body in a strongly self-conscious motion, "My name is Ren! I'm not her, I can't be her— not anymore." Full blown, body-wracking sobs choked her, sending her to her knees.

"Ren," I tried again, holding my hands up in surrender, she wouldn't look at me, staring pointedly at the ground. I climbed out of bed, not bothering to cover up. I approached her cautiously— as one would a wounded animal. If she saw me, she didn't move. Once in front of her, I knelt down beside her. I waited several seconds so that she would know I was there, before pulling her into me. I settled down onto the ground, pulling her onto my lap where she curled up, tucking her head under my chin— it was the exact position we'd been in just hours earlier.

Wow, it certainly didn't feel like hours; so much had happened since then. It felt like a different day entirely. I'd gotten more out of her within the past twenty-four hours than I had since she'd stepped into my class at the beginning of September. Part of me was tempted to ask Caleb and John if they could tell me anything, but then that would just open the door for interrogation and that would not end well. Maybe Jas could tell me something...

No.

I shook my shook my head slightly, I couldn't go behind her back like that. If she hadn't told me yet, then there was a reason. Probably some twisted and fucked up reason, but it was a reason all the same.

For several moments, we just sat there, rocking back and forth on the cold hardwood flooring while she cried. I waited until the tears stopped and her breathing evened out before I even thought of asking her all of the questions whirling through my mind. Her hands were wound tightly into the sheet, her entire body still trembling and I couldn't tell if it was from the low temperature or something else. I brought one hand up to her face, cupping her cheek.

Fuck, she was freezing.

"Please come back to bed," I murmured, placing soft kisses against the top of her head, breathing in her scent. My sheets would smell of her later— I would smell of her later.

She nodded, mumbling unintelligibly under her breath, making my lips twitch upward slightly. Awkwardly, I climbed to my feet, doing my best not to jostle the still reeling girl cradled in my arms, while simultaneously trying not to trip on the sheet wrapped haphazardly around her.

Gently, I laid her down onto the bed. Before I clambered in after her, I kissed her forehead, "I'll be right back," I murmured, turning toward the door.

She caught my hand, "Where are you going?" The look she was giving me exposed every bit of her vulnerability— a sweet girl, trembling, lost at sea.

"I need to turn on the heat, you're freezing," I cajoled, brushing my thumb back and forth against her knuckles, my hand still held captive.

"Please, don't go," her voice broke over the words and at that very moment I wanted nothing more than to just climb into the bed after her and forget all about the damned heating in this ridiculous excuse for an apartment. It was completely mad how much people were willing to pay; hell, how much I was willing to pay to live in this massive city. The rent for my studio flat alone was over $1500 a month and the only reason I was even able to afford it was the salary the University had given me to guest lecture. All of the excess went into an account I'd created to cover the cost of living after my dream job was over.