Rosie's POV
"I don't love anyone because I don't have anyone." I breathed through my teeth.
Yeah, Harry did do it for me. He killed the woman for money, so that we could be happy, and live a normal life. That's not how it works, though. I understood that if he quit his job with the gang he has affiliated himself with, someone would have been killed. Obviously, I was not supposed to know about this Gang considering he had kept it from me for all this time now. But I thought about what he explained to me, about loved ones being killed as revenge for him quitting. I don't have anybody to love. My dad is the devil and my mother isn't any better since she was joined on his side. I only had Harry, and he definitely didn't deserve my love after his ginormous lie. This whole fucking time he lied to me about where he was and what he was doing. All those lonely and late nights when he wouldn't come home until 12am.
"To think I trusted you, Harry! I fucking trusted you, when you came back late every fucking weeknight!" I yelled profanities as I stood up off his lap and the couch, and sped down the hallway. "I'm so fucking lost and confused and just straight up done! I'm done with this!" I ran into the closet, grabbing my suitcase, and tearing close off of the hangers.
"Rosie! Baby!" Harry fastly bursts into the closet, eyes widening at the picture.
"No, no. Please don't. Rosie please. You can't do this, it's-"
"It's not what, Harry? Considering your gang is all the shit and out to kill my father, then what's there to be hiding from anymore? What is there to hide from? Because honestly, you're the real monster in the situation. You lied, Harry. Lied." I said, trying to hold back my tears by yelling through my teeth. Harry looked like he was about to break down, so I just continued pulling everything from the hangers.
"Rosie-" Harry whispers, covering his face before combing his fingers through his hair, looking to the ceiling. I look up from my suitcase to see the space around his eyes red and bloodshot, with a small tear falling down his cheek.
"No, Harry. Stop it." I say, wiping underneath my eyes.
"Just let me explain!" He yells, and I could tell he was about to start crying any moment if this continues. I refused to look at him.
"You had your chance to explain! Fuck- you should've explained a long time ago! Maybe, I don't know... When you left me, alone in the new apartment half the night? Remember that? I was scared to death, Harry." I say, jamming my shorts into one half of the suitcase.
"Rosie if I told you, then Zayn would've-," he stops, and growls with frustration. His hands jam through his messy curls. He takes a deep breath, and I look up to his eyes. "He would've killed you." He whispers sincerely. "And hell knows I can't live without you." He says, smiling in disbelief of the situation.
I look back down at my packed and zipped up suit case. Harry notices my stare at it, and closes the closet door.
"But Harry." I pause. "You just told me everything." I realize. Harry seems to have realized it as well, as he turns around and leans his forehead against the door. His hand forms a fist against it, and his knuckles start to turn white.
"H-Harry?" I stutter. He turns around, and looks angry. I cannot comprehend the situation. Was he mad at me? Because now that my life is in danger because of his stupid choices, you'd think I'd be more mad at him than anything. But right now I'm just scared, and tired. Tired of yelling, tired of crying.
"I can't." He says, shaking his head in his hands.
"You can't what?" I question, standing up from the ground where my suitcase lays, ready to be thrown into a taxi to leave.
