CHAPTER -40
Good song to listen to: Make Me (Cry) - Noah Cyrus
Claire's point of view
"Claire, wake up," I hear his voice beside me.
I slowly open my eyes, to see his piercing blue eyes, looking intently into mine.
"Niall," I breathe, inhaling deeply before stretching out on the bed.
"Morning," I say with a smile, moving closer to him. He frowns, backing away and sits on the edge of the bed.
"What happened to you last night?" His stern voice makes my heart beat faster. I look around the room, sitting up against the headboard.
"Last night? What are you talking about?" I ask, clearly confused.
"You came here completely groggy, in the middle of the night, unable to speak!" he turns around to face me, totally frantic.
"We hung out with Liam last night Niall, he left like around 10 PM, and then we... called it a night..." I slow down, completely forgetting what happened after Liam left.
"No, that was two days ago Claire! You left because you thought Harry might be in danger, then I didn't hear from you until last night," he raises his voice, his wide eyes frightening me. What is he talking about?
"I tried taking you to the hospital, but you refused..." He explains fourthly, as my mind scatters. What is he talking about?
When I really think about it, that day seems very distant. Could what he's saying be true? He believes I left here around 10PM to go to Harry's house, because I thought he was in danger. Then the day after I show up at his doorstep drunk in the middle of the night? It... just doesn't add up in my mind.
"You have been sleeping for 15 hours," he says, pointing at the digital clock resting on the nightstand.
"You really don't remember?" he asks, frustrated. I shake my head but then I remember something. I remember a text from Louis. I look around me, searching for my phone. I find it the jeans on the floor, and I see it through the screen.
*Harry's manager just called. They wanted me to ask you if you have heard from him, no one else has for the last 48 hours*
I remember getting it. But I don't remember leaving...
"What happened to Harry?" I whisper sharply, panicked at the thought that something might have happened to him.
"He got drunk, don't worry he's okay," he shrugs, clearly a little annoyed.
"Oh my god," he gasps, staring down on my hips. He pulls the duvet off of me.
"What the fuck... is that?" he trails his finger over the blue marks. They're bruises.
"I don't... know," I exhale, realizing he must be telling the truth. I am missing an entire day of events.
"Did he do this to you?!" he raises his voice, getting off the bed.
"Did Harry give you those?!" he shouts, leaning over the bed up close to me. I see the veins sticking out of his throat, and the intense red in his face. He is furious. I lay my palm on top of the marks, and I soon find a whole set of bruises up to my throat.
I try desperately to remember what happened last night, but to no avail. Is it possible that Harry gave me these bruises?
"I fucking knew it, I knew he was abusive!" Niall pulls at his hair as he walks across the room, kicking the bedroom door.
My body wakes up, regaining feeling across it. With it comes the pain of the marks, and the sore throat and my exhausted mind.
"No, no... This can't be Harry," I determine, seeing that Harry has never done anything like this before.
"I need to talk to him," I decide. I get up from the bed, getting the clothes off the ground. I see the jeans are ripped, and on further inspection I see my phone is dented like hell. What happened last night?
Maybe Harry has answers. Although, I hope he doesn't.
"No fucking way, I'm not letting you near him," Niall shakes his head, grabbing my arm, holding it tightly. I shake him off, looking him straight in the eye.
"Not your decision, Niall."
I am utterly exhausted of people trying to make my decisions for me. But I can't be mad, Niall believes that Harry has actually physically abused me, no wonder he doesn't want me near him.
"Claire, please!" He jumps in front of the door, holding onto the frame as I try talk walk through it.
"Why do you want to go to him, a scumbag who has left bruises all over you, huh?" he lowers his eyebrows, viewing me desperately with wide eyes.
"I don't think he has Niall, I need answers on where I've been for the last 48 hours!" I shout, but he doesn't move out of the way. A few tears fall out of his eyes as silence emits across the room.
"No... I can't let you, I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you," he shakes his head, looking down, the tears rolling down to his chin.
I know why he's reacting like this. I suddenly remember what happened after I got the text. I left, but not before Niall asked me for an answer. About it all. Whether I was ready to let Harry go. And I wasn't. I went to Harry, but everything after is still blank.
I place my hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears.
"I have to go," I whisper.
"No," he releases, but he removes his arms, allowing me to walk past. I stare into his sore eyes, as he observes my sad expression.
"I love you," he sobs, embracing me.
I feel my eyes close as he kisses my neck, trailing it up to my lips. But because of the wave of guilt, I back away.
"I can't," I feel my eyes well up as I brutally walk away, leaving him behind.
•
•
Every breath I take is strangled by the cries, desperately trying to escape me. It seems as if i'm getting memory of what happened little by little. I remember finding Harry completely unconscious, getting him to throw up, putting him to bed...
And finding the hickeys spread around the base of his neck.
As I look out onto the skyline, the sun already starting to set, I recall our long talk. I'm scared to knock on the door. I want to remember everything that happened with us before seeing him again.
I confessed to kissing Niall, and he apologized for the times he has hurt me. Fessed up for all of it, and begged for forgiveness.But I couldn't give it to him in that moment.
He let me know that he won't give up on us, and gave me a feeling of reassurance. I know he loves me, but his way of loving me is cruel.
Was cruel.
I finally knock on his door, and a few moments later he opens the door.
A smile of relief spreads across his face when he sees me and his eyebrows raise as he moves closer
"You came back," he exhales, then kisses me as he lifts me up and carries me inside.
"Harry," my breath hitches from the feeling, but I tap his arms to let me down.
"It's... not why I came here," I ruin the mood, and he lets me down slowly.
"Oh..."
"Do you know where I was last night?" I ask bluntly. A confused look spreads across his face, but he doesn't have time to answer before everything comes back to me in a flash.
I nearly fall, but he catches me as last night's events come screaming back to me. I remember how every single bruise appeared, why every single tear fell.
I feel his hands all over me, and I start to scream uncontrollably, utterly mortified of the feeling.
"Stop!" I shout, taking a few more seconds of panicking before I'm reminded of that its Harry's hands, not his.
"Claire! What is going on!" His desperate voice rings in my ears.
"Zayn," the name is all I'm able to get out. I feel my body twitch with every area I remember him touching. And there isn't much of me he didn't.
"Fuck," he breathes when he sees the bruises. His eyes widen, and complete and utter rage shoots out of them.
"Did he fucking touch you?" All of his muscles harden as he holds me, and I am completely frozen in time.
"Claire, did he fucking touch you?!" He shouts with force, clenching his palms around my arms.
I look into his eyes, terrified for his reaction. I don't know what he might do if he found out that someone had touched me... against my will.
"Yes," I whimper, and he suddenly looses all emotion in his face except for one; rage.
"I'm gonna kill him,"
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A/N: Heyyyyy sup. Thank you for reading!
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