Broken Misery (H.Styles Fanfi...

Από xI_Am_Uniquex

16.6K 729 267

A Dark Harry Styles fanfiction Sequel to Misery Loves Company The doorknob starts shaking and turning, a key... Περισσότερα

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Not the End of One Direction!
Chapter 23
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
What happens in Tesco stays in Tesco
The Easter Bunnies
Stress Relief
The Fucking House
Money, Honey
The proposal
I Love you...Two
Little Bean
Babysitter
"It's A..."
Labor-Inducing Sex

Chapter 24

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Από xI_Am_Uniquex

Merry Christmas, hope you have a wonderful evening wherever you are. ❤

One of the longest Chapters yet.

-Katexx

--------------

Chapter 24

I packed all my things. When we got here yesterday my suitcase was clean and organized even though it was utterly over packed. Now it sits on the floor by the bed, the zipper almost breaking from being forced closed, and I even had to stuff two of my shirts in my purse in order to close it.

An hour ago I woke up tucked in bed, fully clothed and face puffy from crying so much. There was no sound in the room, only faint voices coming from the kitchen, so I took the opportunity to change, wash my face and pack. I knew right away that I couldn't stay here, not after embarrassing myself in front of this entire family and ruining their lives from being all over the internet.

The amount of paparazzi standing in front of the house has increased in the past few hours, tons of people now waiting in their cars with their cameras and sitting on the pavement, waiting for my next move. Or whoever comes first, really. Though they can't see me from the window, I feel observed and naked under their stare. They watch the house in every angle, and walking out of here is going to be a real misery.

Google maps helps, though. I've managed to find the closest bus station that takes me to the closest train station, en route to London town. I've made out an entire plan on my phone, screen capping the whole route and directions so I don't get lost, but being a small city, I can only purchase the train ticket from the train station itself. I tuck some loose coins in my pocket for the bus, and now I've just got to find a way to get out of this house without getting noticed.

The front door is out of the question. Not only is it a direct sight for the paparazzi, it's also right in between the living room and the dining room, where everyone in the house could see me. The window falls directly in the front house, so this one can't also be considered as an option. The last one I can see is the back door, which is lead from the kitchen area, and though the kitchen can be seen from the den, it's on the opposite side of the dining room. Therefore if I leave at the right time during dinner, I've only got ninety percent of chances to be caught.

I tiptoe around the bedroom not to cause the floors to crack. With my phone fully charged, I sent a quick text to Alfie, apologizing for his life being so exposed. Within the few minutes it takes me to build the courage to carry my suitcase down the stairs, he never replies.

And God is it heavy. I pull it up with both arms as much as I can so it doesn't make any noise as I walk down the old wooden steps. The conversation in the dining room sounds tensed, probably not the best dinner they've had, but it's enough to keep the house alive, not too quiet for them to hear me sneak out. I would roll my suitcase to the door, but it would definitely make too much nose.

With sneakers on my feet and a thick sweater on my body, I make my way out in the cold where the snow is just low enough not to get into my shoes. I couldn't exactly go get my coat and boots from the living room, so I had to do with what I had best.

I sneak through the neighbours' backyard. There's a trap in the fence, almost like a door, that easily travels between the two yards without being noticed. All the houses are quiet, lightly illuminated through the windows as the sun goes down and the darkness strikes. I figure that if people are in their kitchens with the light turned on, they can't see anything this far outside in the dark, so I'm safe. I walk through four different yards until I turn a corner and emerge on the street.

From here, there aren't any photographers. I walk onto the street with my suitcase quietly and safely, not daring to put on my headphones and conceal any noise that could lead me to believe that I'm being followed. It's so quiet in this small village, long fields of trees leading nowhere, houses and houses with incredible view on the country, only just a few kilometers from the closest bus stop.

I keep my phone tightly clutched in the palm of my hand and hold it up every time a car passes by. The small light of it is reassuring for some reason, just a dial away from 999 to call the police. Deep inside, I know that my first instinct would be to call someone else, but seeing him with his family, I wouldn't have to guts to break them even more. So I keep walking with my head low, thinking of where I'm going to go as soon as I get home and pack my bags. I've got three hours of train to figure out my next move, and it pretty much involves anything but staying at the house.

But I barely make it to the bus stop alive. Forty-five minutes later, I walk into the small cabin and collapse on the bench, tears streaming down my eyes from the pain in my arms and the water drenching my feet through my sneakers. I thought that since the snow wasn't high enough to get inside my shoes, that I'd be alright. But snow is water, and water goes through shoes. It melts and feels like you're walking with portable pools on your feet. So I bury my head into my hands and ignore the squeaky burn in my heels from the water irritating my sensitive skin. I'm pretty sure a decent amount of water has gone through the thick material of my luggage, but at least half of the things in there are washable. I don't dare to open it to change my shoes in case it's nearly impossible to close again.

When the bus finally arrives, I climb on it and sit in the back, along with the two other people already on it. My suitcase takes an entire seat, but the driver doesn't say anything.

The bus rides for what seems like ages. At this time of the year, the sun goes down early and though it's nearing eight o'clock in the afternoon, it could pass for midnight. The moon shines low in the surprisingly cloudless sky, the smallest stars polka doting the dark night above our heads. In London, stars are hardly ever visible. It seems like it's always too cloudy or polluted to be able to see them. One time I was lying in the backyard, it was early fall and still warm, and I was reading a book when I saw the shiniest of all stars in the sky. It was bright and pure, it just glowed so much I thought it was absolutely beautiful.

When the driver finally lets us out at the train station, I wince in pain at every step I take from the bus to the platform. My suitcase rolls behind me as I pull painfully on the handle, the heaviness of it almost ripping my arm off. The next train to London is in fifty-five minutes, which means I missed the last one by five minutes. And it kills me so much that I fall on a bench and start crying. Thankfully no one is around to judge.

Then my phone starts vibrating in the palm of my hand and ringing loudly. I don't even have to look at the name on the screen to know who's calling, and I click 'ignore' without thinking twice. And when it starts vibrating again and again, both with incoming messages and calls, I hold myself back from throwing my phone on the train tracks.

I want to set it on silence, I want to turn it off, but instead I press accept on the next call. "What?" I breathe, my voice cracking from crying too much.

"Where the fuck are you?" Harry yells at the top of his lungs, the speaker of my iPhone vibrating against my ear from the loudness of his voice. "Fucking hell, Elena. What the fuck is wrong with you, just taking off like that?" My lips part to reply, to apologize, but he interrupts the smallest sound I could make. "Do you have any fucking idea what I just went through? I was going upstairs with a fucking plate full of food for you. I was going to run you a bath, put in a movie or something, and then I find the room completely fucking empty and your shit all gone. You better bloody tell me where the fuck you are before -"

"Don't call me again, please."

I hold the phone to my ear, just listening to his erratic breathing and his loud growling. "Elena, if you fucking hang up on me-"

But I interrupt him again. "Harry, please. I'm cold, I'm scared, my feet are killing me. I just want to go home and I don't want you calling me again."

The tears blur my vision. I hiccup and choke on my saliva as I cry, ending the phone call before Harry can even say anything. The phone continues to vibrate in my hand but I ignore it, watching Harry's picture disappear and flash over again. However, the quiet footsteps behind me have my heart beating twice as fast, especially since I can't see through the water pooling in my eyes.

When the warmth of a hand goes on my shoulder, startling me, I shut my eyes as tight as possible and try not to scream. What comes next is unexpected. "I know my brother's an arse," the voice says, "but twat or not, he would never, ever forgive himself knowing he'd made you leave him on Christmas Eve."

"I'm doing this for the both of us," I tell Gemma as I try to control my quivering bottom lip. "He loses himself when he's around me and I'd let him do anything when I'm around him. And now going public, I just can't."

She rubs my arm comfortingly and pushes my hair away from my face. "Don't you think he loses himself because he loves you? My brother has been through a lot, Elena. He's confused about love and he doesn't know what to think of it when it happens."

I'll tell you when we're both ready. His voice echoes in my head and I can't help but be even more concerned about what happened to him. "He hasn't told me anything. He said he wants to wait until we're both ready."

"It's been hard for him," she confirms. "He doesn't know how to feel love and how to control his feelings. When he -" her face contorts in a grimace as she searches for words, and my eyes widen at what she knows. "- took you in, he thought he'd be able to control his feelings by choosing who he'd be with. He thought it would be easier, but he ended up losing control of himself and falling head over heels in love with you. And what hurts him the most right now is knowing that you've been back all this time waiting for him, living a life that could've included him, but you're pushing him away. He feels like you took control of everything that he couldn't."

"But, how do you know everything?"

"Harry is my best friend," Gemma smiles warmheartedly, her eyes lighting up. "It takes him time to open up, but when he has problems he comes to me. It's only after you left that he told me what happened; the poor lad cried for hours over the phone. Mum doesn't know all, but she knows enough to protect him."

Surprised, I wipe my eyes with the back of my hands covered with my sweatshirt and look up at her. Not only does she look like Harry, she also talks like him and has the same facial expressions. She gives me apologetic eyes and takes my hand before speaking again. "We were about to give gifts when Harry went to wake you up with Shepherd's pie. He dropped the plate all over the floor, it was a real mess," she giggles, shaking her head. "Oh my God, you should've seen his face. We all ran upstairs and thought he'd seen a ghost."

My lips twitch up at the thought, but then my face falls at a small realization. "He's going to kill me."

"Why?" Gemma asks, amused. "The only way he'd be able to kill you is if you're considering coming back home with me. Is that what you're doing?"

I sigh. "How did you even find me?"

"Easy peasy. I thought, 'Where would a twenty-year-old go after fighting with her idiotic boyfriend?'. I figured you'd want to go back to London, and you're only way there is the train."

Her insults at Harry make me chuckle. "And does he know?"

"Yeah," she admits. "But the tosser needed to calm down. I told him that if he came you'd just run away, whereas I could get you to come home. So, shall we go?"

Before I can even give her an answer, which to my biggest disappointment was going to be a hesitant yes, she takes my suitcase by the handle and starts carrying it out of the platform and onto the street. I follow her from a few feet away, my mind focused on the picture of Harry every time my phone vibrates. He smiles on that picture, a full dimpled grin with teeth and crinkles by the eyes. I don't want to answer him now, though. He's going to wait until I get there and embarrass myself in front of his entire family. Again.

Gemma is driving Harry's Range Rover. I could recognize it from miles away just because I've driven it too little too often; the unique gray handles and the hot pink dices I placed around the rear-view mirror that Harry usually throws onto the backseat every time he takes the car. I help Gemma lift my heavy suitcase in the back and climb in the passenger seat while she sits behind the wheel.

"The paps squatting the house left about thirty minutes ago," Gemma reads a text off of her phone. Then she turns to me and smirks. "So if you plan on leaving again tonight, the front door is free."

My face reddens instantly. "Your mom must hate me so much right now," I whine, burring my head in my hands. "This is bad. I swear I'm not this stupid on an everyday basis, and my skin doesn't look as blotchy under natural lighting."

"Hate you? Please, love. Mum threw a fit at Harry for making you leave. I'm sure he's still in time-out in his room." She throws her head back in laughter, merging onto the motorway. The drive mustn't be as long as the bus since it usually takes small streets and detours. "I swear it's just like when he was potty training and would try to put his potty in the fridge after using it. He'd cry so much when mum said no, it was hilarious. He'd get one minute of time-out every time."

"Photos?"

"Plenty."

"Good," I smile, the pressure on my shoulders relieving. A little.

We don't talk for the rest of the drive, but I feel like Gemma knows what I'm feeling. She moves her head from side to side along with the music playing on the radio as if she's trying to calm the atmosphere. She's basically making it impossible to feel uncomfortable, and she assures me as soon as we get closer to the house that Robin and Anne will be more than pleased to have me back. I know how my mom and dad would just scream at me if I were to take off unexpectedly from their house.

Been there, done that, I guess. Which reminds me that they haven't called me today, or sent an email. Usually on Christmas Eve we'd open gifts, and then on the actual day of Christmas we'd get with the family and open everyone's gifts. My parents always said it was impolite to open personal gifts from direct family members in front of the extended family because then cousins could get jealous of a few gifts and everyone would compare the quantity and quality differences. I wonder what my parents are doing right now.

"Do you want to stay in the car and talk a little before we go in? Only if you're too nervous," Gemma breaks my reverie. I look around and realize that we're in the driveway of the house, the lights turned on and brightening the horizon. Gemma turns off the car lights and unbuckles her seatbelt. "It's up to you. Just know that nobody in this house is angry with you."

"That's not true," I whisper back, pointing my chin at Harry's figure staring right at us from the living room window. "He's very, very angry."

Next, Anne appears in the window by her son's side and waves us in. "He really is," Gemma confirms, giggling to herself. "God, I'm happy I'm not in your place. I mean, spanking can be quite hot but not from my brother."

Oh, my God. My heart stops beating, my lips parting in surprise as I watch her dimples dig deeper with a large grin. "Gemma, it's not..." I'm losing my words. I try to tame the heat rushing to my cheeks and take a deep breath. "It really wasn't like that."

"Then if it wasn't like that, make it be like that," she shrugs, the smile on her face not going anywhere. "If he's too hard, or too angry, try to change his mood. I really, really don't want to have details; that's just... yuck," she grimaces and I bite my bottom lip to hide a smile. "But bear with him. He's trying to make it work, and maybe he's not doing it the right way, but you can change it. Help him understand to do it how he needs to in order to get what he wants, and he'll learn how to make things right."

"Do you really think that after what he's been through, that he can actually do things right with himself and with me?"

Gemma doesn't even pause to consider it. "If there's one thing I know for sure, it's that my brother would do anything to have you by his side. It might be hard, and maybe you did a good thing not to jump right into it when he came back from tour, but Velcro wasn't made to be apart."

I raise an eyebrow at her shitty comparison, but she just laughs out loud and takes the keys from the ignition. "Come on," she says. "We have a Christmas to celebrate."

I don't argue when she jumps out of the SUV and takes my suitcase out of the backseat. The door of the house swings open and Harry leans against the doorframe, arms crossed while his eyes burn into mine. Anne, standing short next to him, has her hands brought together against her chest and beams at me.

My hands shake as I get closer, mostly from being nervous but also extremely underdressed for the current temperature. "I'm really sorry," is the first thing I say, or actually, it's the first thing I mumble almost inaudibly under my breath. "I didn't mean to ruin the evening."

Harry clears his throat. "Please, Elena," he says in a robotic voice, as if practiced. "We are more than happy that you could grace us with your lovely presence on this special evening." He pauses slowly, his eyes traveling to meet his mom's, and Anne gives him a firm nod before he continues, this time citing a part of the bible. "No man whose testicles have been crushed or whose organs have been cut off may become a member of the Assembly of God." He clears his throat again, cheeks turning slightly red, and then then, "So on this Christmas evening, Elena, you may cut my balls in revenge."

Gemma bursts out laughing behind me, pushing past to get into the house. Without another word, Harry picks up the luggage that Gemma left behind and Anne pulls me in the house, giggling. "He's been rehearsing this speech for thirty minutes," she says. "He wouldn't go into time-out so I had to find something."

With a faint smile, I take off my shoes and sigh. "I'm really sorry. I should've just stayed home and all of this would've been fine."

"Nonsense!" she exclaims. "Robins heating up some Shepherd's pie for you, and we'll give presents right after. And if you feel better this way, I'll set up the guest room for you tonight."

Without thinking, I nod. "I'd like that. Thank you."

"You can't be fucking serious," Harry growls, dropping the suitcase loudly on the floor. Anne reprimands him instantly, pointing her finger at him and threatening to make him shovel the snow out of the entire yard. "Sorry," he concedes, his robotic voice taking over. "I meant, I would be grateful to set it up for you and do the dishes after dinner. Is there anything else I can do for you, your majesty?"

Anne shakes her head. "You may retreat to your cage, son." She pulls on my sleeve like a four-year-old until we're in the dining room where Gemma is already sat with a cup of tea and her plate. "Have a seat, love. Your servant should he here right away with your food."

"Why don't I get a servant?" Gemma whines, her mouth full of food.

Robin walks into the room with his own plate and sits down at the end of the table. "Because the little willy was a bloody arsehole to Elena, not to you," he chuckles. "And he's taking too long. He might have to shovel the neighbour's yard as well."

"I'm right here," Harry grumbles, walking in the room with a dish of food and a tall glass of water for me. He places both items in front of me, and takes out a fork from his pocket to hand me. "May the force be with you."

"So well trained, my little brother," Gemma comments, making Harry stick out his tongue at her. Anne taps his bum as he walks out of the room to get a plate of his own, and he mumbles something under his breath. "Happy Christmas Eve, everyone. Cheers!"

Dinner is pretty silent, apart from Anne and Robin conversing occasionally and Gemma making amusing comments, but Harry eats quietly beside me with his eyes staring down at his plate.

Soon, we're sat in the living room by the tree and I've retrieved the presents I've purchased for the family from the guest room. They'd been hidden deep down in my suitcase so Harry wouldn't find them. He'd precisely told me no gifts, but I couldn't do that. Gemma is titled as Santa, giving out the presents and using the cat as a potential replacement for Rudolph.

Anne gets jewelry, clothes, a ski trip and a bunch of beauty products from Harry and Gemma. Then she gets a trip to Prague from Robin and a whole new lot of kitchen silverware. Robin receives a brand new drill, books, tickets to go see the Manchester soccer team and a yearly membership for satellite radio from them three. He's also part of the trip to Prague with Anne.

Harry's gifts are slightly unusual, but he's the happiest I've ever seen him. From Robin and Anne, he gets socks, boxers, an electric toothbrush with ten cartridges, an iTunes gift card and a bunch of random things like deodorant, shampoo, soap, shower gel, because apparently when he's on tour he doesn't have time to buy all of that. And from Gemma, he gets iPhone cases, hats and t-shirts, a tattoo shop gift card from this place in London he likes going to and an electric razor for his inexistent beard.

Lastly, Gemma gets a new watch from her parents, along with beauty products, bath products, train and underground pass for a year on her Oyster card. From Harry, she gets a plane ticket to follow him around the states and later in Australia, bracelets, gift cards for Bleach Salon to get her hair done (the only gift card we agreed on), and random gifts from all around Europe.

My gifts come more unexpected. From Anne and Robin, I get a large, beautiful purse that fits my laptop and all my school things. It's just big enough and perfect, and it's exactly my style. I also get nail polishes and bracelets. Then from Gemma, I get makeup, creams, body creams and bath products.

They were even more surprised when they opened the presents I got them. For Anne and Gemma, I got them a spa they in this beautiful place in Manchester that I found on google. They have an entire day of full pampering, including massages, manicures and pedicures, and a facial. For Robin, Harry had hesitated to get him a watch, so when he confirmed that he hadn't, I did.

Though gift giving is between the family, Harry and I agree to give each other's gifts later in the evening in the privacy of his bedroom. So after he's done the dishes, we watch Love Actually in the living room until he nudges my elbow and points to the stairs. We excuse ourselves politely but I catch Gemma winking subtly at me, to which I respond with exaggerated roll of my eyes.

"You scared the crap out of me this afternoon, babe," he says once we're alone in his bedroom. "You can't just take off like that. What if you'd been followed? What if something happened"

We still haven't talked about it. All evening he treated me like a princess and called me his majesty, but then again he was forced by his mom. We barely spoke one word to each other until now. "I wasn't thinking," I offer. "I hadn't seen you so angry in so long and I got scared. You didn't even go that mental on me after the bar."

"The bar thing happened one night. This lie has been going on for weeks," he bites furiously. "And now you think you can just run off like that? At least next time text or something. I understand that you've got all this PMS stuff that might make you leave me over a hundred times, but Jesus, Elena. Send a text. Please."

"I'm not PMSing," is all I take from this conversation.

"And I'm not going to be angry right now if you tell me one thing."

"One thing," I reply cleverly to cover the shaking in my voice. He cracks a smile and rolls his eyes. "Go."

He takes a few steps closer to me as I stand by the bed, the multiple presents littered over the comforter. "Do you love me, yes or no? I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend and to promise yourself to me. If you're not ready, then I understand and I'll respect you and wait for you. But just tell me if you really love me or if I'm wasting my time here."

I bite my bottom lip and nod nervously. "You know I love you, Harry. I got scared, that's it."

"Good," he says simply, not hiding the shit eating grin plastered on his face. "Now I think you may open your gifts." He hands me a small package, surprisingly not badly wrapped, and I tear the paper apart. Inside is a small velvet box, and I look up at him with wide eyes. What the hell? "Oh gosh, no. It's not what you think. Well, it is but it's not. Ugh! Just open it."

And it's a ring, and it's beautiful. The ring itself is small and delicate, and on top is a small heart with two little diamonds shining. "Harry, it's gorgeous."

I slip it in my fourth finger but on my right hand, where it fits perfectly. "I just thought it was you, and I couldn't resist. One day I'll get you a real one." My entire body melts but before I can say anything, he hands me another box. This time though, my eyes pop out of their orbit when I see the set of keys. "It's a Mini Cooper. The Rover is huge to go to school with, and I thought you'd be better off with a small but safe car."

Also my dream car, I tell myself. "Harry, you can't buy me a freaking car. Are you insane?"

The bastard smirks amusingly. "You've been looking at them on your laptop. I know you wanted one. It'll be in our driveway when we get home next week," he promised. "So suck it up and say thank you."

But I jump on him instead and wrap my legs around his waist. A freaking Mini Cooper! "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" and I kiss him, because he deserves it and because his face is so close to mine that I can't resist. And he just bought me a car so I guess it's a compromise.

"I should buy you a car more often," he whispers happily when we break apart, foreheads still touching. I ignore the butterflies burning in the pit of my stomach. "There's one last gift, babe."

"Don't you think you've done enough?" I ask as I climb off his body.

Harry smiles and hands me an envelope. "This one is more for me than for you, but I reckon you'll be happy anyway." It's a plane ticket. And it's for whenever I want, and for how long I want, to go with him on tour. "It can be after school, on your spring break or whenever, but I won't go for so long without seeing you."

I'm too distracted to feel the tear rolling down my cheek. What makes me realize that I'm crying is when he brings his thumb over and catches it. "You're incredible," I tell him, reaching over to wrap my arms around his chest. "You can be the best person in the world when you try," I giggle and he fakes offense, gasping and eyes going wide. "It should be Christmas more often. Now your turn."

The first gift is a joke. It's a bottle of my favorite Skintimate shaving cream, because last week I was looking for it and I found it in his bathroom by the sink, and I later noticed how he smelled like raspberry and vanilla. My bottle had been emptying fast and I thought I'd just gotten a bad batch, but then I realized that he'd probably been using it for a while. The second gift is a watch, because the leather band on his favorite one has been tearing apart. The one I got is a gold YSL that reads the time, the poles and three other different clocks around the world. The third gift is a pair of boots, very similar to his old one that he loved so much and wore until they broke. They're brown leather, size ten and a half, and it's exactly what he'd normally wear except that they won't get dirty as fast as his velvet ones.

The last gift is probably his favorite according to his facial expression. "I think you don't know what you just got yourself into," he smirks, folding the paper. Since I knew he wouldn't be able to go with his mom and sister to the spa to get a massage, I printed a certificate that allows him to pick a time and a place to get a massage. Anywhere. Anytime. By me. And when I printed, I fully intended on it to sound a little sexual. "Fuck," he breathes, smiling. "I absolutely love everything you got me, babe. You're amazing, but this one..."

"Sixty minutes, don't forget," I tease.

"It's plenty of time for the fun part," he winks. "What if I want to give you a massage, too?"

I stifle a yawn with the back of my hand and smile tiredly at him. It's funny how you get tired even after sleeping all day. "I'll take you up on that."

"Come on," he says, holding his hand out. "I'll give you a piggy ride to your room before you fall asleep on my bed and regret it in the morning. I made the bed already for you and I brought your suitcase over."

"Thank you," I say once my arms are around his neck and I'm holding onto him. He crossed the hall to the guest room and helps me down by the door. "You're going to have to earn it to come in," I tease. "I don't let strangers in after the first date."

"Can I at least kiss you goodnight? It's what any gentleman would do after a successful first date." He takes my lack of response as a yes and slowly leans down until his lips touch mine. He holds my bottom lip between his and moves dangerously slow for a few seconds until pulling away.

I allow a few seconds for my head to come back to its senses, the taste of Harry's lips lingering on mine as his breath fans on my face from a few inches. "So you're not mad? We're okay?"

Harry takes a long breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds until he nods. "Just, next time you're upset because I punish you, or for whatever reason you feel like you have to be upset, leave a note. Even if it's to say that you never want to see me again."

"I'll write it now so I don't forget to leave it when it happens," I joke.

He rolls his eyes but grins. "Goodnight, Elena."

"Goodnight, Harry."

I watch him walk backwards to his room, where he sends me a kiss and a small wave before closing the door. When I close mine, I finally let out the breath that I've been holding, wondering if all of this is a good thing or a bad thing.

-------------------

Chapter End Notes:

First of all Merry Christmas everyone and enjoy your day with your loved ones. Second and last of all I hope you have a happy New year, may all your dreams and wishes come true. All the love x ❤

Back to the story!!!

SO YEAH IT'S AN ABNORMALLY LONG CHAPTER!

Hope you all like it, it's definitely one of my favorites.

So, what do you think about Gemma's advices to Elena? Do you think it's actually going to help Harry and her into a healthy relationship in the future?!

And what about Harry's feelings towards Elena? Is she going to give in quickly to officially be his girlfriend?!

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!Next one will be up Saturday the 2nd of January 2016!

I felt like writing earlier that's why I updated today, so that means there's no update this Saturday, but hey it's a long chapter for a reason! *wink wink*

Don't forget to comment and vote!!Thanks!:D

-Katexx

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~COMPLETE~ A girl gets kidnapped. 5years later she gets out of there. But, Who does she run into? Who saves her? Who are her new best friends? What i...
173K 3.2K 53
*18+ Contains Mature and Explicit Content* *I don't bring my eyes up when I hear him pick up a knife.... I don't even want to see the size of it. H...