bella [harry styles] a.u

Chapter 7

The only good thing about my position was that I was able to rest on my back, something I didn't hesitate in doing. Because of my new position, Harry shifted as well and suddenly a lot of his body was on top of mine, him on his stomach and I beneath him, his head resting on my shoulder for comfort. I was glad that his body wasn't hurting mine, probably because of the way he laid, but I was completely terrified.

I could feel every crevice of Harry's body if I really want to and he had no idea of the spot he was in, resting on top of me. Somehow, Harry seemed almost innocent in his sleep, in which he was clearly far from in my opinion. He killed everyone who meant anything to me.

"H-Harry." I whispered, knowing that if he were the littlest of bits conscious, he'd be able to hear me completely.

"Mm, Bell." Harry mumbled, although it came out as more of a groan, causing me to press myself farther into the mattress, knowing it'd do nothing for me, but using all of my lucky stars to hope it'd help. Harry's arms moved from by his sides to my waist sloppily, feeling around for the right area before gripping it and holding me down.

"Harry?" I hesitantly reached one of my hands up to poke the back of his head that was near mine, my finger touching his curly hair as he only rested more of his weight on my body. "Harry, please get off from on top of me." I urged, not fully sure if he could hear me or not.

"Yeah, babe, just like that."

"What?" Was Harry talking in his sleep?

I froze completely the second I felt Harry's lower region erect above me, his front already resting against mine, something I hadn't quite realized until then.

"Ugh." Harry groaned, his words coming out mumbled as his face was pressed into the pillow I was also resting on.

"Harry, please get off of me." I repeated in a useless whimper for what had felt like the twentieth time. I couldn't move though, and when I went to push on Harry's shoulders to try to get him to wake up and lift himself from my body, he somehow grabbed one of my hands swiftly, leaving his other on my waist, and forced it to go down and under the covers that were above us. Harry lifted himself lightly from my body, leaving me to sigh in utter, complete relief, but stopped the second I realized where my hand was going.

I had tried my hardest to fight against his hand, knowing that he was going to subconsciously make me do something I had absolutely no intentions on doing.

"Harry!" I screamed the second I could feel the waistband of Harry's boxers on the tips of my fingertips. His hand was sternly gripping mine to keep me in place.

Instead of my loud call for help waking him up, it seemed to make him rush things, my hand suddenly inside of his boxers, forced to press against his soft yet hard member.

"St-Stop, Harry!" I shouted again, thankful when he suddenly stopped at the loud shout of his name, grumbling something under his breathe before forming into more of a push-up position above me and releasing my hand and waist, thankfully, my hand hurriedly lifted away from him.

"Wh-What?" Harry mumbled and I was instantly glad I wasn't able to see any part of his face in the bleak darkness.

"Please, just get off of me." I cried, horrified. I couldn't help but cry again, for what would have had to have been the thousandth time today.

"What's wrong, baby?" Ew.

"Please don't call me that." I continued, shaking my head against the pillow beneath me.

"No, now tell me what's wrong so I can make it better."

"I just want to go home!" I shouted through my quiet sobs. I froze when Harry touched my face and brushed away the liquid streaming out of my eyes. "I don't want to be here, Harry, you killed everyone and-and had people betray me, and I just don't want to live anymore." I knew I was exaggerating by far, I had only been here a day and there was a ton of hope for me, but still, I knew this would get my point across to Harry.

But instead, he remained silent. Seconds passed and I knew he was staring at me with a burning gaze because not only did I know his eyes were trained on my face, but I could also feel them piercing into my features.

"You're never going to say that again." Harry hissed, his voice deeper and more malicious than normal. It almost made me wonder what had struck him the hardest, my subtle suicide threat or the fact that I pointed out Harry's wrongs?

"But—"

"Dammit, Gemma!" He shouted, throwing me off guard because, well, my name wasn't Gemma. My name's not even really Bell, let alone Gemma.

Harry grew silent — too silent — and it caused me to suddenly realize that he realized his mistake.

"Harry?" I whispered, knowing that this was obviously a touchy subject since Harry flipped out and then just stopped after realizing his words. "Who's Gemma?"

"No one! Dammit, don't speak of her." He was glaring at me now, I knew it, just by the simple tone of his voice I knew he was angry with the way everything turned out and a part of me almost wished he were asleep again, having some dream that I believed to have been sexual. "Let's just go to sleep."

Harry got off of me, much to my relief, and I was even happier when he didn't put much effort in touching me again. He seemed embarrassed with himself — ashamed — and it almost made me feel bad until I remembered who Harry was and instantly stopped, scooting down to the edge of the bed and facing away from him, knowing that I wasn't getting to sleep anytime soon.

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