A/N: HARRY WON A GRAMMY TODAY. A moment to appreciate his beautiful existence.
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How is he real? My God.
Sometimes I find it hard to believe that Harry Styles and people like my ex boyfriend are the same species...
Anywho.
Happy update my loves! What a good day today is xx
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There was something sickly disturbing about laughter that followed right after the sound of gun going off. It sent a shiver down my spine and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It made me question (and silently hope) that this all may just be a practical joke that Johnny was playing on me because he was bored, though the look on Harry's face made me think otherwise. Harry and I stood in silence, his eyes boring into my bedroom door as if it would be kicked down any moment. He wore a look of such intensity, it made my insides turn with fear.
I suddenly wished deep down this was all like when Johnny had just turned thirteen and had decided he wanted to learn how to properly shoot. He had made his own makeshift target, shooting as I watched on and begged for a turn. He eventually had his gun privileges revoked because he had missed the target by a mere inch and ended up shooting a bird by accident. He called it a win in his books, our mother had called him a Sociopath. My ears had rung for days after that.
Given that, I wasn't a stranger to the sound of a gunshot, nor was I usually this afraid of them, though the way Harry was acting was making the foreign feeling of utter panic coarse though my body.
Harry's gaze tore between my bedroom window and my bedroom door, looking very much like the hyperactive dog I often found myself comparing him too, though I couldn't find it within myself to utter the witty remark. Instead, I stared at him, watching as his hand tightened over his phone, his knuckles turning white. His fingers danced across his keyboard, the white glow of his phone lighting up his face in a way that showcased every crease and worry line sketched onto his face. I decided I didn't like it. I didn't like how his face was a mixture of frustration and panic. I suddenly felt trapped within the room, and I took a step back from him.
"I need to make sure my brothers are alright," I whispered to him, glancing around the darkened room furiously.
I need a weapon if I wanted to go investigate what the hell was happening, because Harry sure as hell wasn't going to escort me out there anytime soon. If my father taught me anything, it was not too think you were invincible. Everyone needed a weapon. You couldn't go into the unknown blindsided.
"You're not leaving this room unless it's out that window," Harry growled lowly, his hand reaching out to lock around my wrist as if I was about to flee from him already. He took a step forward, crowding me into the wall. Trapping me like an animal. "I'm waiting for confirmation that the coast is clear, until then, you stay here."
"What if my brothers are hurt?" I asked, panic finding its way into my body. I didn't want to think anything could possibly happen to them, but if someone could get into the fucking house, despite the amount of guards that surrounded the place, I felt like anything could happen.
"They're fine," Harry said with a growl of annoyance. "They can handle themselves."
"As can I," I snapped at him, my voice suddenly raising. His hand went from around my wrist to covering my mouth almost instantly.
"Now is really not the time to be stubborn," he hissed, though he kept his voice low. If it was any other time, I would of made a dirty joke about how close he was, or I would of admired how rich and honey-like his voice sounded when it was whispered to me, but I had other things to worry about, and the wellbeing of my family was one of them.
I yanked his hand away from my mouth, keeping it in my own hands. I gripped it tightly, my own hand beginning to ache as I squeezed so hard that I shook. I tried not to let it offend me that Harry just stared down at me with an impatient glare, like the whole situation was just mildly inconvenient to him.
"Now is not really the time to keep me from my family," I told him, hating how my voice quivered. I sounded nasally from the tears I had shed, but I gave myself a break. Any person with a pulse would of shed a tear if they woke up to what I did. A Taylor or not, I had a beating heart and a whole lot of fear when it came to my family.
Harry was still all in my person bubble when the doors of my bedroom flung open, allowing the lights of the hallway to flood my room, casting new shadows in its wake. In what felt like a flash of a moment, Harry had spun on his heels, gun pointed in the direction of the intruder, all the while shielding me from view.
I felt somewhat relived to be so small against Harry's frame. His free hand wrapped around my waist, shoving me into the corner of the room to keep me in hiding. He was using his body as a human shield, reading to take any hits for me just as Trent had promised he would.
I reached out for his shirt. I couldn't help it. In a moment of vulnerability, my fists tightened around the fabric of his loose t-shirt, my head falling to rest on his back as I whimpered out of fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what was to come. He didn't say anything comforting, though his hand that rested on my waist, that was keeping me locked into the corner of the room, tightened.
I was thankful my room was big enough that it would take the intruder a second to find us in the darkness of the room. I just hoped it would give Harry enough time to regain his own composure and take aim. If I wasn't clinging to Harry for dear life, I would of covered my ears to prevent the sound from piercing my ears.
"What happened?" Harry's voice vibrated through his chest, his voice demanding. It wasn't one of warning, and his hand suddenly loosened from me.
I took this as a good sign. I let myself peak around his body, my eyes falling onto a guard. I unfortunately didn't remember his name, though his face did look familiar, even if it was bruised. And covered in blood.
My eyes narrowed, and I peeled myself away from Harry, taking a step away from the shadows as I realised he was no threat, though he did look as if he had just been someone's punching bag. Maybe that wasn't a good sign.
"What happened?" I demanded, repeating Harry's words. I took a step forward on shaky legs. My heart sounded as if it was coming out of my ears, it was beating that loud. Or maybe it just sounded that loud because everyone else was silent. I wasn't too sure. "Where are my brothers?"
Harry's hand pushed me back as soon as I tried to step in front of him, and he scowled at me. "Shut up," he snapped at me. He turned to the guard who looked more frantic than I liked to admit. "Well? Are you going to fucking speak?"
The guard tore his eyes between Harry and I, and with the way he stared between us, it looked as it he was watching an invisible ping pong torment in his head. I wanted to slam his head against the wall. My frustration was building.
"Are you fucking stupid?" I snapped when he didn't speak. The silence felt like a hot iron against my skin. "Where is everyone?!"
"Calm down," Harry hissed at me, His hand gripped my shoulder, pulling me so I was behind him again.
I stayed silent, nor for the sake of listening to him though. Of course not. I stayed silent only because the guard opened his mouth and looked like he actually remembered how to speak. "There was an intruder," he croaked out, his voice sounding hoarse. "Trent and Michael are on the grounds now with a few guards. I was told to check on Annabeth."
My heart felt as if it stopped. "What about Johnny?" I demanded, my eyes narrowing into slits.
The guard looked panicked and I suddenly felt as if my whole world was crashing down around me. The man before me held information that could make or break my world as I knew it, and he decided to keep his mouth shut? I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. And to think Harry asked if I was mentally deficient.
"Where is my fucking brother you stupid waste of space!" I screamed at him, lunging forward as he was the cause for all of this. In a way he was, which was how I allowed myself to look like a rabid animal.
They always said not to shoot the messenger, but I was two seconds away from doing just that if he didn't open his mouth and tell me where my pain in the ass of a brother was.
Harry seem to catch me mid-air, swinging me around before my shaking fist could touch the already bruised mans face. His grip around my waist felt like a death grip. Even when I kicked and screamed, he didn't let go of me.
"Where's Johnny?" Harry asked over my screams. "Tell me, God damn it. I'm not going to hold her back from clawing your face off for much longer."
The man gulped. I could tell he was advised not to tell me what had happened and it made me see fucking red. Well actually, I saw stars. Then I saw nothing but darkness. It wasn't what I was going for, to be honest.
I couldn't of been out for more than ten seconds, though within that time, my whole body fell limp in Harry's arms, and I awoke again to find him cursing a string of profanities under his breath as he tried to wrestle me into a standing position.
He glared at me when I came too, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. "That a party trick?" he hissed down at me. He lifted me up, tucking me tightly against his side as if I was about to make a run for it. "Because now is really not the fucking time for your tantrums."
If my head wasn't spinning, I would of told him to go fuck himself and tore myself out of his sweaty embrace. Instead, my body appreciated having something to rest against as I regained full consciousness again. Surely that wasn't healthy. Who the fuck faints so quickly?
"I want Johnny," I found myself mumbling with a shake of my head. I felt drunk. It wasn't pleasant. Maybe this was what vertigo felt like? I didn't know, but I was beginning to feel even more panicked as the scene around me settled into my head once again, and the reality of something bad happening pounded in my head.
"I'm trying to figure that out for you," Harry grunted. He turned to look at me head on. He wasn't gentle as he pushed my hair out of my face to get a better look at me. His eyes searched my face, scanning over every section of my face as if it was a story he was trying to read.
When he seemed satisfied I wasn't about to faint again (not sure how he got that from staring at me,) he moved away completely and shook his head. ''This is the last time I'm asking, or you're going to have a matching black eye and one fucking knee cap to hobble out of here with."
The guard in front of us merely shrugged, his wide eyes looking almost pleading like. Pleading for what, I had no idea, but I wasn't above screaming my way into some solid answers. Or popping his kneecaps off like Harry had suggested, though I was squeamish around blood. He'd have to take the reigns on that one.
"I was told not to say," he mumbled, backing away, hands up in surrender. "I just had to radio in if Annabeth was okay. Trent said that-"
I had officially had enough. The possibility that something had happened to Johnny and I was just standing here doing nothing was all too real for me. Just as Harry ran a hand down his face in frustration, I took it upon myself to do what I initially planned to do and lunge and the man.
Given I was so short compared to him, there was only so many places I could aim for. I chose the groin. My foot collided with his most vulnerable part, and he let out a hiss of pain as he fell too his knees in front of me. I wasted no time in crowding him, staring down at him in pure rage.
"Where-" kick.
"The fuck-" kick.
"Is my brother?!" Kick. Kick. Kick.
Who knew someone could have such a hard stomach? The main groaned in pain whilst my foot began to throb. I was far from calm, and this was my only way of getting any anger out of my system. He was in for a long night if he didn't cough up any answers. I was also contemplating turning my anger to Harry if he refused to let me leave this room. If he was the reason I didn't get to see my brothers before something bad happened, God help his soul.
"Who pissed in your cheerios? Damn, that's got to hurt."
My head snapped towards the voice so fast, that the world felt as if it spun for a few seconds. Relief swelled through my body like a tidal wave, and I was not ashamed to admit that I flung myself at my brother.
Johnny groaned at the sudden impact, though caught me quickly. He wrapped his arms around my waist, embracing me. It had been a long time since I willingly hugged my brother, and I think it stunned us both. "You alright?" he asked cautiously, worry lacing his voice.
He gave my back a few awkward pats before he pulled me away from him. His dark eyes searched mine, looking concerned. A look that wasn't often seen on him and my heart would of swelled with emotion if it didn't look so strange on him. His eyes seemed to have lost their dark humor. Instead, the bags under his eyes showed worry. Johnny wasn't one to portray any sort of emotion, if it did get thrown at him just as I had done.
"What's happened?" I demanded, ignoring his question, and wanting mine answered. I stepped out of his arms, tired of asking the same question and not getting any response.
I searched his body for any wounds, any scratches, any indicators that he was hurt.
I would of been able to breath a little easier if it hadn't been for the smear of blood that rested on his neck. My gaze lingered on it for a beat, the world around me seeming to go on a tilt. In that moment, I couldn't hear the words Harry was shouting at the guard on the floor, nor could I hear what the man was pleading to Harry.
It took me a moment to reach Johnny's eyes, suddenly afraid to hear what he was about to say. It dawned on me in that very moment that there would only be one single thing in the entire universe that would allow Johnny to drop down his armor and embrace me, his little sister, his royal pain in the ass, in a hug without complaining. There was only one thing in the world that would let a flash of emotion trickle into his eyes. There was only one thing for him not to joke about me being a disgrace to the Taylor name by showing my emotions.
Death.
And not just any death. God, no. Death swarmed this family like the plagued, though it was usually something that my brothers were the root of. Johnny wouldn't show emotion if just anyone had fallen victim to a bullet.
My brother sighed, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots before he met my eyes again. For once, my brother looked somewhat remorseful. It made me sick to my stomach.
"Mom and dad..." he said, shaking his head. He wasn't good at this. I felt my whole body tingle with a sudden numbness.
Johnny, being Johnny, let out a groan of frustration when he saw my face crumble at his words. He shook his head again, the words tumbling out of his mouth like word vomit.
"They're dead."