~Harry~
The breaks squeaked as Harry pulled up to the Beck house that evening. The car ride back was held with an air that was unknown to both of them, neither of the speaking as Harry tried to process everything that had been thrown at him in the span of a few hours. He just couldn't get it out of his head that Dean had done so much to the girl and yet he still hadn't been fully convinced that he had gotten the full story.
"Thank you for driving me today," Marley said, her voice quiet as she spoke before she turned towards the door.
He hummed in response, giving her a curt nod as he waited for her exit. The events that unfolded before him still replayed in his mind as he tried to figure what the hell he was even going to do, conflict running through his veins at the options at hand.
She placed her hand on the handle, unbuckling her seatbelt as she went to leave the car. But then she stopped for a moment, releasing her hold on the door as she exhaled deeply, "You don't have to do it, you know."
"What?" he asked, not turning to look at her. His words not in their usual rude and condescending tone, but one of genuine confusion.
"Work for Dean, I mean. It was a lot to ask and I'm not blind. I know that you're not the same person you were before you left, it isn't fair of them to assume that you would be so willing to do something like that."
He turned his head to look at her, her features tired as her lips parted slightly. He was thankful for the words she spoke, thankful that she - of all people - could see through his facade that Woodgate hadn't completely destroyed him, taking the person he once was and replacing it with just an empty shell. Not even being able to recognize the person he was anymore.
"Do you want to come inside for a second? I don't really have much to offer, but I'm sure I can scrounge up a clean cup and some water for you."
Her words were kind as her face shifted from the serious one she previously had into one of a joking expression. The sun setting in front of them hitting her face in a way that made her eyes appear bluer than anything he had ever seen, his green vibrant ones getting lost in something that he could only compared to as the sky. She had a small smile on her face, almost hoping that he would say yes as she played with the hem of her white t-shirt.
"Umm, yeah, sure."
She smiled widely at him, something that he could get used to seeing as they made their way out of the car. He followed behind as she led them up the stairs, the wooden boards creaking with each step they took, making a mental note to see if he and Louis could do something about that as they walked, feeling stiff at the idea of Cole getting hurt because of poor condition.
They entered the house quickly, Harry standing to the side as he waited for her to walk in. He watched her for a moment, seeing her shut the door forcefully as she locked it once before checking that it had worked as she moved to the final one on top of the doorknob.
She turned to look at him, a shy smile on her face as she explained herself, "Luke won't be home tonight and Cole is staying at Vicky's, this door is a bitch to lock and always breaks so you just can't be too careful."
She must have noticed him watching her the other night when they were taking care of Louis, but he had remembered the older boy mentioning something about that when he had first been to the house, so he shrugged it off and followed her to the kitchen.
He had been in the small kitchen area before, but he had never fully noticed it until now. The fridge was small, the white paint starting to chip and a yellowish undertone was starting to show. Hung up on the front of it was a small picture of three stick people with the names Marley, Luke and Cole written underneath them. Next to it was a small makeshift calendar; three pieces of paper taped together with the month June written boldly on top with small boxes with days numbering from 1-30, a small message written on the corner that said, "Make today a great one!" He instantly recognized the handwriting as Marley's, going to school with the girl for thirteen years had come in handy for something.
She walked over to one of the two broken cupboards - both of which were almost falling off the hinges as she carefully opened it - grabbing a cup from the shelf as she walked over to the sink. It was filled with dirty dishes as she pushed them to the side, not even caring that Harry had been watching her as she carefully turned on the tap, jiggling the handle for water to come out. Harry watched her with an assumed expression on his face, finding it humoress watching try to navigate through the kitchen that was about to burst as the seems. She had a look of concentration as she patiently waited for the low pressure of the water to fill the cup up, biting her lip slightly as she stood.
When it filled about half way she smiled to herself, sliding it over to Harry as she walked to the fridge and took out a carton of strawberries. "Thanks," Harry said as he brought the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip as he watched her open the container. "Why do you like those so much?"
"What?" she asked, looking down at the fruit in her hand as she giggled at the realization.
"You would bring those everyday for lunch in year 9," he said slowly, taking another sip of his water as they looked at one another. "Why do you like them so much."
"You noticed the food I would eat for lunch?" she said, wiggling her eyebrows as she looked at him in a joking way.
"Don't make it weird Beck," he said as he laughed a little, a deep chuckle filling the room as she looked at him. "It's kinda hard to miss when you come to school everyday with a fucking tin full of strawberries."
She scoffed at his words, flipping him off in the process, reminding him a lot of Louis. "Do you want the real answer or are you just making conversation."
"Tell me," he said quickly, cringing within as he felt as though he sounded desperate. But honestly he had been wanting to know the answer for a while now, never being able to ask about it because they usually couldn't go five minutes with one another without arguing.
She furrowed her eyebrows together, exhaling deeply through her nose in amusement before she looked down at the strawberry in her hand as she answered, "When I was growing up I had an obsession with them, I would eat them everyday if I could. So my dad used to make it a competition, trying to see who could fit the most in their mouth. He would always let me win though, even though we both knew he could."
"That's why you would bring them to school everyday? Because your dad could fit more in his mouth?"
"No," she said quickly, shaking her head as the playful tone in her voice was replaced by one of hurt. "I guess it just kinda became our thing, anytime we were together we would just sit and talk for hours about anything under the sun as we ate strawberries. We would tell each other everything, there were no secrets between us, he knew everything about me and I knew everything about him. But when he died, or I guess how he died, it made me realize that maybe I didn't even know him at all. That there was no way that my dad - the only person in this world that truly knew me - could do something like this, he was happy you know? At least I thought he was."
"When I went back to school after he died I was scared, afraid about what everyone would say," she stopped talking for a second, her words soft as she looked down at the fruit in front of her. As if she had been unlocking a handful of memories, each one playing her mind before she finally spoke again.
"Of what you would say."
His eyes widened at her confession and for the first time in his life, Harry Styles was consumed with guilt.
His heart beat quickly at the feeling, his hands becoming sweaty as he tried to comprehend what she had just said to him. His knees felt weak, as if they were going to give out any second right form under him. He licked his lips out of habit, horrified at the fact that she thought he would have ever said something about her father killing himself.
When her father passed, the news spread around the town like wildfire. By the next morning everyone knew about what had happened, all mourning the death of someone so beloved in the community. John Beck had been kind to everyone he met, no one having any bad thing to say about the man. He was the kind of person who would give the shirt off his back for anyone in need, so when everyone heard of his tragic death, no one would quite wrap their heads around it.
Harry had always been jealous whenever he would see how close Marley had been to her father. How her father would pick her up everyday in that ugly blue car that she drives around so proudly now. She would be so happy to see him each time - as if he had been a soldier returning from war - running to the car with her hair flowing behind her as she jumped into the passenger seat, smiling so wide it disgusted Harry to see. She would always talk about him in class; what they were planning on doing later that day or the weekend they had spent together. And it hurt Harry more than anything to see the person he dreaded breathing the same air as, live the life he had wanted nothing more than to have.
"Marley," he said as he took a seat on the bar stool across from her, his black converse tapping the floor as she picked her head up to look at him. "You have to know that I would have never said anything to you about that. No matter what happened between the two of us or the shit that went down, I couldn't do that to you."
"That's the thing though, Harry... you did."
His heart dropped at the words. He tried to replay every conversation he had ever had with the girl. A lot of hateful words and pitiful digs flooded his mind, but nothing could come to mind about her father.
She must have been able to see his mind running wild because she continued, "Do you remember the first time your father was arrested for drinking and driving?"
Of course I fucking remember. He thought to himself, shooting her a look as he tried to hold back his natural response to fight back, genuinely wanting to know what she was going to say. "I came up to you when you came back to school, telling you how I was sorry for what had happened."
He hit him like a ton of bricks when remembered the encounter.
His thoughts were cloudy as he walked the halls of school that next morning. Exhausted like never before due to him holding his mother and sister as they cried in his arms all night long. His mind not able to think straight as he tried to understand what would happen if the police uncovered the truth about what his father would do. Trying to figure out what he was going to do if they found out about what he had done to Gemma just weeks ago, to Harry before he went to school yesterday morning, or to their mother the night before.
His thoughts were cut off by the sound of the voice he had wished for nothing more than to not hear that morning, knowing that he was going to snap at the first person he spoke to.
"Hey Harry," she said quietly as she placed her hand on his shoulder.
"I'm not in the fucking mood Marley, get away from me," he snapped, not even meeting her eyes as he shook her hand off of his shoulder, trying is hardest to control his breathing.
"Look, I know we aren't friends, but I just wanted to say that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here," her words were kind to him for the first time since they had met.
"What," he snapped as he turned around to face her, his words strong and filled with venom as he spoke through his gritted teeth. "Why the fuck would I ever want to talk to you about anything."
"I'm sorry if I'm being insensitive, that wasn't my intention. I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you if you need it, sometimes it's easier to talk about things to someone who doesn't really know-"
"Excatly, you have no idea what the fuck I'm going through right now because in case you haven't noticed, not all of us have the perfect fucking family or perfect 'daddy' that you have, Marley. You're just too busy flaunting it in everyone's face to see that you're living a fucking lie. Here's your wake up call Beck, get over yourself."
"I wasn't trying -"
He cut her off quickly once again, not even being able to control the words rolling off his tongue. "Honestly, I'm surprised your father can even stand to be around you. If my child was anything like you I would've off'd myself a long fucking time ago."
Her jaw dropped as she gasped slightly, her face holding an expression that was unreadable due to Harry's pure annoyance for the girl. He hadn't even realized what he had said, not even remembering the girl walking up to him in the first place.
"I'm sorry for saying anything, I hope your family's doing okay," she muttered quietly, her head hanging low as she walked away from him, her shoulders dropping as she held onto her bag that was hanging off of them.
Harry watched her walk away even more annoyed than when she walked up. She was playing the victim when she had no clue what was happening in his life, acting as though the words he spoke were the harshest thing anything has ever said to her. He began wondering if she would be able to handle just one night of Harry's life. Of hearing his father telling him he wished the boy was dead every night.
He rolled his eyes in annoyance, not even the least bit surprised that she made his father's arrest about her. But then again this was Marley Jeen he had been thinking about, she couldn't handle the spotlight not being on her for five minutes.
"Marley, I-" he started, but was cut off by her shaking her head quickly, almost as if she had seen the flashback he had seen right before her eyes.
"It's okay, Harry," she said with a small, pitiful smile as she spoke. "It was a long time ago and it was my fault going up to you after what you had been through that night. But you were right, I had clue what you were going through and it was stupid of me to assume you would talk about it with anyone, let alone me."
"It still wasn't okay that I said that to you, Marley."
Although didn't feel like it, maybe he really had changed. Never in a million years would he have ever admitted to being wrong, he would point fingers at others until they broke if it meant he wouldn't have to be seen as weak. Because growing up it was just that, he had been told that being wrong and admitting fault was the same thing as feeling sorry. And being sorry was for the weak, for the spineless people who held regret as the words that were drilled into his head over and over again 'a real man should never regret something he has done'.
"But I guess that's why I eat strawberries so much. I feel like in some ways I'm being connected back with my dad," she trailed off, scoffing lighty as if her words meant nothing. "Before my life got so fucked up I don't even know which is way up and which way is down."
A weird feeling overcame Harry as he watched the curly haired girl look at the fruit in front of her. Over the past twenty four hours, a lot has changed his perspective about the girl. It was almost as if he didn't recognize her, or maybe he just never really cared to see her as anything more than the girl with the opinionated personality and annoying bright blue eyes.
For the first time since they entered the house, it was intently quiet; Harry drinking his water as Marley ate her strawberries. But then they heard it, the sound of music coming from upstairs.
Marley heard it first. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as she looked at Harry, who simply shrugged his shoulders in response as she whipped her head to look up the stairs. She moved around the counter, standing side by side with Harry as he finally heard the noise coming up from the second story, her feet leading her to the stairs as Harry stood up to follow.
The stairs creaked under their movements, painfully loud as they walked up the hardwood floor. It was dark the last time Harry had been up that hallway, walking too quickly to even see the layout, even in the morning when he rushed out of the house after opening up to Marley in the early hours with a hangover. He stood for a second as he noticed a few pictures scattered along the walls, all with their mother's face ripped off of them.
"I got a little angry after the last time I saw her," Marley said sheepishly when she noticed him looking at the frames. "I should probably just take them down before Cole notices and starts asking questions."
"She was comatose the last time you saw her," Harry said with a chuckle, looking down at the girl with a smirk on his face. "What could she have possibly done in her sleep."
A blushed crept onto her cheeks at the words, "I went by myself a few days ago, let's just say that she wasn't exactly thrilled to see me."
"Why?" Harry asked, finding himself rather nosey these past few hours.
"I've told you more in the past four hours than I've told anyone in a long time, Harry," she said with a smile on her face, shaking her head along with it. "Let's be done with the third degree for a little while, yeah?"
He rolled his eyes at the words, a burning sensation flooding his body when she nudged her shoulder with his -only hitting his bicep due to her height- a chill running down his spine a second later after the short interaction between the two ended.
She turned her body back towards her room, pushing the door open as he followed behind, looking along the walls at the pictures and posters she had littering the painted space. His eyes fell to an Elvis one. It was a picture of him in black and white, an acoustic guitar strapped across his shoulder, his mouth opened wide as though he was belting out a lyric to a song. His eyes followed across to the countless amounts of pictures, recognizing the Beatles artwork from an album Niall had been showing him a few weeks ago.
His eyes continued along the wall, not even hearing her as she mumbled out something about Cole leaving the radio on. He stopped as he looked back at the cards she had lined up on the shelf, thinking about the conversation they had had not long ago in that very room.
He couldn't help but wonder when she had gotten all of them, which one she had gotten with the record her father had given her for her thirteenth birthday. But then something caught his eye that he hadn't noticed the last time he was staring intently at the shelf. It was a small picture stand, clearly for one to hold a polaroid, except what was placed upon wasn't a polaroid - it was a funeral card.
It only took a second before he realized it was her father, the curly brown hair and blues eyes giving it away instantly as he studied the picture, not even realizing that he had gotten much closer to the shelf.
"Do you want to look at them?" Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, her height small next to his as he finally noticed she was beside him.
"What," he said as she nodded to the cards that were sat untouched on the shelf. "Uh, no. Why?"
She raised an eyebrow slightly at him, trying to hide the smile that was about to form on her face as she shrugged, "I just thought that since you had a lot of questions about them the other day, maybe you would want to look at them. Also you've been standing here just staring at them for a bit so I just thought I'd ask."
"No, it's okay. They're private-"
"That didn't stop you from snooping through my room last time," she joked, raising her eyebrows up questionably, smirking lightly at him as she pursed her lips.
"Besides there's nothing much to these anyway. My dad would always put a lot of thought into the gift, the card was just something he liked doing to make me laugh," she said as she picked up a card towards the middle of them all. "This one's my favorite, he got it for me for my twelfth birthday."
"You don't have to do this you know," he said suddenly, not even giving her a chance to open the card as her smile dropped, replaced with one of confusion as she looked at him.
"What?"
"If you're only doing this because you feel bad for me for some reason then don't," he said quickly, stepping away from the shelf. "It's not big of a deal, they're just cards, Marley."
"Right," she said, shaking her head as she placed the card back with the rest. "Sorry I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"No I didn't mean it like that," he stuttered out quickly, stepping closer to her. "I just don't like when people pity me and you clearly were. It's not that big of a deal that my family didn't give me cards for my birthday, you shouldn't show me them just because you feel like you have to."
"That wasn't why I was showing it to you," she said quietly, turning her body back towards the shelf. She sighed for a second, running her fingers through her as she looked back at him. "This is your fault you know."
"What," he said chuckling, turning his head side to side in a playful manner. "How is this my fault?"
"You got me all emotional thinking about my shitty ass life and my dead dad," she said, Harry not being able to tell if she was serious or not until she rolled her eyes with a playful smile written across her face.
"Fine," he huffed, his voice laced with playful annoyance as she smiled. "Show me the damn cards."
She grabbed a handful of cards before walking towards her bed in the corner of her small room. The bed itself was nothing fancy, just simply a mattress on the ground with a white comforter and a brown blanket thrown on the edge of it. There was a small teddy bear laying on top of the bed, four pillows behind it as it sat up in front of them. The bed hadn't been made, seeing the small, light blue checkered print sheets that had matching pillowcases hidden behind the two white ones in front. She sat near the wall, grabbing the small blanket by the hem of it and pulling it over her legs. She looked up at him as she nodded towards a spot on the full size bed, waiting for him to sit down as she smiled up at him, holding the cards in her hand like a child holding their wrapped presents on Christmas morning.
He muttered out a small "what the hell," as he threw himself onto the bed, a thump heard below him as she laughed loudly, throwing her head back while running her fingers through her hair.
"You know, this is the longest we've ever gone without fighting," she said suddenly, catching him off guard as he settled onto her bed.
"Don't push your luck Beck," he teased. "If you show me all of those cards in your hand then we're gonna. Just show me one so I can get this over with."
"Shush," she said quickly, holding her hand up as she laid the cards out onto the bed.
One birthday card turned into two birthday cards, which in turn made her want to show him just one more before they were going through every one she had brought back onto the bed. Soon she had turned it into a game, reading him the jokes her father would write on the inside and becoming personally offended when he stared at her with a blank face. She had told him that it was now her mission to find at least one card that made him crack a smile and finally on the last one he had.
It was a brown card that simply had the words Happy Birthday on the front and if he had been honest, the card wasn't the least bit funny. But as she sat cross-legged on the bed with a bunch of birthday cards from past years scattered around her, laughing before she could even get the joke out; he couldn't help the small that made its way onto his face without permission.
"Finally," she explained as she fell back onto the bed. "God Styles you're like one of those people outside of Buckingham Palace or some shit."
He chuckled at her words, laying down next to her so that their shoulders were touching, a feeling that he had grown comfortable with over the past few weeks.
A comfortable silence grew over the two as they stared at her ceiling, the radio that they had gone up there to turn off still on, quietly humming into her room as the music crackled through the speaker.
There was a feeling in Harry's chest as he replayed the events from the day, neither of them ever really talking about what happened at Louis' house. He still couldn't wrap his head around Marley's confession, how Dean had been such a part of her life. Yet at the same time, the feeling of shock was overturned by the fear lurking in the back of his brain for the girl to his left. Dean was dangerous, he had connections to people that shouldn't be messed with and the fact that he hadn't been hesitant to threaten not only her but Louis, made Harry's heart stop.
It almost seemed as though he was scared, a feeling he hadn't dealt with in years after his father left. At Woodgate the feelings that were constantly present were numbness, anger and hatred; but never scared. He simply didn't care enough about himself to be scared of what would happen to him; but right now, he was scared for them.
"Marley," Harry asked, turning on his side to look at the girl next to him.
"Hmm," she hummed quietly as she followed his actions, her hair falling over her shoulder at the movement.
There was only one other time Harry could compare the amount of vulnerability he had felt at that moment, and it was after waking up from his nightmares. He didn't know why he was asking her, but ever since they had walked out of the car, the statement she had made was floating around in his head, mocking him quietly as he tried to push it away.
"Did you mean it when you said that I'm not the same person I was before Woodgate?"
"Yeah," she said quietly, matching his volume as she shrugged slowly. "Before you left-"
"I didn't leave," he cut her off, speaking the truth for the first time to anyone other than his mother about what happened that night. "They came in the middle of the night and took me."
A light gasp left her lips as she stayed quiet for a moment, moving closer to him as she said softly, "Harry."
"I was sleeping in my room when the headmaster and three of the disciplinary officers came into my house. They busted through the front door, turned on all the lights and started yelling at me to get out of bed. When my mum woke up to try and get them to stop, they said that they had a court order for me to go with them and that they would do all things necessary to make sure it happened. When they finally found my room I refused to get up, I just kept telling them to fuck off and put up a fight. Finally one of them just punched me in the face, so the others could hold me down. They had one pulling me out of bed by my arms while the other one grabbed my feet."
He looked up at her, her eyes full of sorrow as she moved closer to him before she spoke again, "You didn't have to tell me that Harry. I couldn't even imagine how terrifying that must of been"
He hadn't even told her half of what truly went down that night, not being able to think about it, his mind not ready to recover all it had been trying to hide. "I know, but I wanted to," he said honestly, sitting back up in the bed as she followed, sitting across from him as he joked. "It wasn't fair that only one of us got to share parts of our fucked up lives."
She caught on quickly, the sign of sorrow only staying on her face for a few moments before she smiled, a scoff leaving her lips as she spoke, "To the fuck ups."
He looked at her for a moment, finding it strange how he was finding himself actually enjoying her company for a change, before nodding his head slowly as he chuckled dryly. His laughed mixed with her giggle as they leaned against the wall looking out the window in front of them in silence.
"Yeah," he finally said as the quiet hum of Jessie's Girl played in the background, causing him to roll his eyes, the song not being to play without him thinking of Marley trying to force him to sing in the car.
"To the fuck ups."
~
I'm on like a huge writing kick right now so sorry if these updates are getting annoying lol.
Thank you guys so much for 25,000 reads. I love you guys so much and can't wait for you to see what's next :)
Thoughts on the story so far?