Only Angel [h.s]

▹23◃

London. Kensington Place

I suppose I should have been surprised at the whole ordeal. Harry was a man of organise crime, and it was only natural for him to have enemies. The one thing I did not expect was that I would find myself being a hostage. Nor did I expect Harry to shoot the man in front of me. The pool of blood, was something I would certainly remember. The red liquid staining the ground, in which his pale and lifeless body left.

I then learnt that Harry, did in fact have many more enemies. That the gang I guess you would call them, with the spade tattoos, were trying to kill him off. Harry was a powerful man, and I suppose people wanted the power that he had. The wealth and connections. I wish he would give it up, for my own sanity and his sake.

Granted I have come to accept my life with Harry, I did once, and I knew that deep down I still loved him. I just hoped that he would give up this lifestyle, that he would get a normal job. That our lives would not constantly be threatened. That was never the case though.

If anything it made Harry more power hungry.

Like he needed to prove that he was not a man to be messed with. Not realising it was messing me up, that this was the exact reason I left in the first place. 

"Darling."

I glanced up at him, staring at his green eyes. They looked tired, and it was noticeable by me. I could see the guilt flash through his eyes, over the fact that I went through a lot. I was still bruised, my left eye was still a little black, my lip was still raw and sore from being split open. The doctor said my cracked ribs would take a few weeks to heal. Though I had playfully reminded Harry, that I was use to the pain. Mostly from his hand and my backside. 

He didn't find it amusing. 

"Yeah?"

He frowned a little, before walking towards me. My eyes trained on him in the mirror, as I had sat down in front of the vanity, brushing my hair that morning. His hands gently rested on my shoulders, as if to turn me around. Samantha had tried to convince him that he should let me go. That I was going to be in constant danger. I knew it was not out of spite, despite my distaste for the woman. I could see the slight concern in her opinion.

Harry would never let me go, and a part of me didn't want him to let me go. I loved him, I always had since my crying self walked into his office all those years ago. Despite running away, despite me yelling and trying to convince myself that I didn't want Harry, I did. I needed him, he was like my oxygen. 

He was my only angel. 

"I'm so sorry this happened." His voice was slightly cracked, and for once it put me in shock. Harry never apologised, always telling me it was a useless word, that it was a weak excuse for people wanting to hide up for something they didn't mean. Anyone who apologised, were just lying and trying to convince themselves they were doing good deeds. 

A part of that was true, for many people apologised just because it was a word that was meant to mean a little. Though, it had been turned to hold very little meaning. 

However, his voice seemed to genuinely mean it. That he actually meant sorry, and a part of me was beginning to question it. I know he felt guilty for what happened, and a part of me wondered if he was going to send me away. I know Harry cared about me, he did, in his own way. Perhaps it would be me, who would deny it all, wanting to stay with him. 

A few months ago, perhaps I would have cried and screamed at Harry. Yelling at him, begging the man to let me go. If he was going to send me away, I would not go lightly like I perhaps would have done once. I would scream at him until my voice was raw, lock myself in this room. 

Maybe I was scared of being away from Harry, that I no longer felt safe. Perhaps I just came to terms that I needed to be with him. After all, we were suppose to get married. Even if the engagement at first, was forced upon me. I wanted to spend my life with Harry.

If he would give this up. 

"I'm okay," I whispered, standing up, though my shorter frame was nothing in comparison to his. He was dressed in a tee-shirt, it was white, with black skinny jeans and those boots I once brought him for Christmas. I smiled, briefly at the thought of that day. He was so happy when I got them, remembering how much he wanted them at the time. 

He seemed to nod, though I knew he didn't believe me. Yet I was telling the truth, because I was okay. I was with Harry, and that was enough for me. Even all the shit that would come with it. I felt like I could face anything, knowing that this man I loved would be with me always. He promised me that once, when I turned twenty one. He promised he would always be with me, at the time I was the one who decided I no longer wanted that.

But now I do. 

His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me towards his familiar scent. I held onto his shirt, resting my head against his chest. My eyes lingering on the piece of paper settled on our bed. I furrowed my brows, seeing the words scribbled on the top.

Styles Enterprise.

Glancing up at Harry, who followed my gaze, he simply smiled down at me. Not a full grin, just a lazy smile, as if he had found peace in what he was doing. Parting my mouth to speak, he hushed me with a soft kiss against my lips. 

"I can't lose you, not again. Not in fear that you, you might get killed." 

He paused briefly, glancing back at the paper before looking at me with a thoughtful expression. Almost deciding what else to say. "I love you, more than anything. I know I haven't been fair, I know that I have done things to you, that I am not proud of. But you make me complete, you make me the happiest man on this fucked up earth."

Another ghosted smile crawled its way to his lips. 

"I can't lose you angel, I have everything that I want. Power, money, connections and goals," he breathed out. "Though I don't want that, if that means I have to live in constant fear, wondering who is going to strike next. If you'll get home safely, if I'm going to wake up and find you dead."

I frowned at his words, before looking back at the paper. Curious as to where he was going with this. 

"I love you Isabel, and none of this is worth it." 

Resting his forehead against my own, he looked into my eyes with a larger smile. I could see a little bit of pain, and stress reflecting in his green orbs. Yet Harry, seemed to have made up his mind, for I had seen that expression on a regular basis. 

"I'm giving everything up. For you Isabel."