Recovery / / h.s

Part Thirty-Four.

"Well my dad," I began, plopping onto the bed and pulling a pair of pajama shorts up my unshaved legs. I took note of three new bruises but I couldn't recall how I had gotten them. "He-uh- well he's a lawyer, a pretty good one actually."

I watched him nearly yank off the buttons on his shirt and I was going to get up and help him until he just decided to pull the shirt over his head. "Officer White and my father have been friends since high school. White saw potential in you, I guess, so he came to my dad and asked him what he could do instead of pressing charges." My favorite pair of sweatpants now covered his legs. They hung low on his hips but managed to fit him perfectly everywhere else.

We settled against the headboard side by side, although I would have preferred to be wrapped into him. "I was basically just supposed to watch you, make sure you did what you were supposed to, showed up on time, whatever, until the summer was over and you were off the hook." I reached out to reach his hand, I could do that couldn't I? Too bad, I was doing it anyway. "So yeah, that's the story."

"So your dad knew that i got into a drunken fight with White and he thinks that I'm this alcoholic guy who fights all the time?" He asked, and I breathed a sigh of relief when he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into his lap.

"Pretty much." I used my index finger to trace over the rose tattoo on his forearm. When I got to the bud of the flower, his bicep twitched gently.

"he's going to do anything he can to break us up is what you're telling me." And my heart nearly broke at his words. He had to be kidding.

I turned to look at his face. His eyes were back to the forest of sadness and I felt like I had just kicked a puppy. " I won't let that happen, Harry."

"But Lily, your dad-"

"No," I cut him off . "Look, as much as I hate the guy you used to be, you aren't that guy anymore. I don't care that you binge drank or that you used to chain smoke two packs a night or how many people you fought back then."

"You're not a bad person for the mistakes that you made, Harry. You're only human. And back then, you did what you thought was right for you. I don't blame you for that."

"My father's opinion of you doesn't affect how I see you at all. His opinion doesn't even matter to me. I will do whatever I have to do to keep us together."

Anyone who thought I would leave Harry was delusional. His past was a part of who he was. He couldn't change who he used to be and I shouldn't hold him against that. No one should.

"Your father wants you with Louis," he said after a moment, his lips pressed against my ear. "Your whole family seems to want you with Louis."

I forced myself out of his arms and sat cross legged in front of him. "I don't want to be with Louis. If I did, I wouldn't be here with you in this bed right now."

"Harry," I grabbed my hand in his, this time with confidence because I could do that. "These last four weeks- I've felt more in these past four weeks with you than I did spending four months with him. When I say I love you to you, I mean it. With him, it felt rehearsed and fake and just wrong."

Thinking back, my whole relationship with Louis was him stringing me along like a puppet. I never loved him, and thinking about how I had said those words to Louis made me sick to my stomach.

Now I was where I belonged. I belonged with Harry. My hands twisted in and out of his curls as he placed innocent kisses to my collarbones. I didn't feel like I was walking on broken glass anymore; which was great because there was still one thing that we needed to discuss.