Chapter 13: Sara’s POV
I heard the front door open and footsteps making their way into the family room where we were. My eyes flew open and looked at the intruder who was making their way into our home. I gasped when I saw who the intruder was. Zayn. He had a sick, disgusting, smirk on his face and I wanted to scream for him to get out, but when I tried, nothing would come out. I watched as he made his way over to where I was laying on the couch. I felt his arm pull me up harshly, and I tried to get away, but was failing. “Stop struggling, love. You’ll only get yourself into more trouble,” Zayn growled.
I could feel a tear escape my eye; I knew where this was going. He dragged me over to an empty space on the floor and he threw me down. I winced. My head started throbbing from hitting the ground too hard. I tried pushing him away, but he pinned my hands down. He leaned down, his face right above me. “I told you I’d finally get what I want,” he said, his hot breath on my face.
I turned my head away from him, and shut my eyes, thinking I could escape it.
“Wake up, Sara,” I heard a voice say.
“Wake up!” The voice was getting louder.
“Wake up!” I heard as my body jolted awake. I looked around to see where I was. I saw Harry above me, a worried look painted on his face. I saw Melissa and Liam looking at me as well, looking sleepy and worried. I hadn’t realized I was actually crying until I felt Harry wipe tears away from my face. Harry pulled me into his lap, my head resting on his t-shirt covered chest. “It’s over now, babe. It’s okay,” he said sweetly, as he kissed the top of my head, trying to calm me down.
I reached up and wiped the remaining tears streaming down my face, “What time is it?” I ask.
“9:30 in the morning,” Melissa told me, a worried look still on her face.
“Are you okay?” Harry asks as I look up at him, his curly hair all over the place.
I nodded. “I just need a minute. I’m gonna go up and shower,” I tell them all.
I see them nod and I get up from the couch and release my hand from Harry’s tight grasp. I make my way up the stairs and into my bedroom. I shut my bedroom door and walk into my bathroom and shut the door. I strip out of my pajamas and turn the shower on. I pull my hair into a bun on the top of my head.
While I let the water warm up, I turn to face the mirror. My hand travel down to my stomach, which is coated with scars. I let my hands run over them, memories flooding back. Memories of being with Zayn. He gave me these scars; permanent memories of my time with him. I use my finger and trace the scar that’s about an inch and a half long. My brown skin discolored in these areas from the scars that lay upon my skin. I use my index finger and trace the scar that’s about an inch and a half long.
Zayn and I were in his house, his mother and sisters gone. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for us to be home alone together, but it was strange when I watched him walk over to the fridge and grab a bottle of beer. “What are you doing, Z?” I asked him, extremely confused. He never drank, not around me, at least. The main reason being he wasn’t of age, making it illegal.
“Having a drink, what does it look like?” he spit out as he popped the top off.
“Zayn, babe, that’s illegal, I don’t think this is a very good idea,” I tell him.
“Loosen up. I can do what I want,” he says as he takes a swig of the drink.
I walk over to him. I try to grab it out of his hands. He’s never acted like this before. To be honest I was a little scared. He walks away from me as I try to reason with him, “Zayn this isn’t a good idea,”
“Oh shut up!” he yells, his voice raised. He throws the bottle at the wall I was next to. It shatters everywhere, and I feel a sting of pain on my stomach. I look down to see red bleeding through the white shirt I was wearing. I put my hand to it, blood staining my fingers. ‘It was an accident,’ I try and tell myself. But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared. I grab my bag off the table and run out the door, leaving Zayn to clean up the mess. Little did I know this was the first of many scars to come.
I am shaken out of the memory as I feel the steam coming from my shower. I step into the shower and close the shower door. As the warm water rushes down over me, I let out all the tears I’ve kept in, flow out. I hear a knock on the door, but I don’t say anything, tears stinging my throat, making it hard to speak. I figure whoever is at the door will just go away, but I am proved wrong when I hear the door knob turn and I hear footsteps.
“Babe?” I hear.
I wipe away the tears, trying to make them stop. “Harry?” my voice croaks.
“Yeah, it’s me,”
“What are you doing in here?” I ask him, “I know we’re dating, but I’m not ready for you to see me naked yet,” the real reason being I’m not ready for him to see my scars; I’m not sure how he’ll react.
I hear him laugh, which makes me smile. “I know, I know. I just wanted to see how you were.”
“I’m fi-”
He cuts me off, “You don’t need to lie to me, love,” I hear him shut the toilet seat and sit down on it. I can practically see him running his hands over his face, something I’ve learned he does when he’s frustrated.
“Sometimes it’s easier to say that I’m okay. I keep thinking if I say it enough times I’ll be okay. It’s silly,” I say shaking my head.
“No, it’s not. I understand,” he says understanding, “But you shouldn’t keep everything inside. It’ll only hurt you more.”
“The pain reminds me I’m still alive.”
“Just talk to me, love. Make your pain, mine,” I feel the tears start rushing out once he says this. “Don’t cry, love.” I wipe the tears away, for what seems like the billionth time today. “Talk to me.”
“Harry, I’m not okay. I’m not,” I tell him, listening to see if he is going to say something, but he’s silent. Just listening. “I’m scared that Zayn will come back. I’m scared that I’ll go back to being depressed. I’m scared you’ll leave me when you see what I’m like; when you look into my past. I’m scared. That’s the only way to explain how I am. Scared.”
I hear him breathe out, “I would never leave you for what’s happened in your past,” his voice almost a whisper, I can barely hear him over the running water, “It kills me that you think I would do that.”
I turn the water off, “Could you hand me a towel, H?” I hear him grab a towel off the rack and see him open the door and watch as only his arm holding a towel pops through the opening. I quickly dry off and wrap the towel around my body. I open the shower door and step out. I feel Harry’s eyes on mine. I see that he is now shirtless, in nothing but basketball shorts. I can see all of his tattoos, scattered around his body. His v-line very prominent. I look up to his eyes quickly, “No funny stuff, Harold,” I tell him, a small smile plastered on my face.
I watch as his head is thrown back, in laughter. His eyes are shut and his dimples are prominent. I love it when he laughs. I smile wider, as I watch him. “There’s that smile I love,” he smiles.
He reaches down and wraps his large hands around my small waist. “I would reach up, but I don’t want my towel slipping,” I tell him.
“I wouldn’t mind that one bit,” he says, smirking, as he leans down and brings his head to my neck, right under my jaw. I feel his hair tickling my face as he places a small kiss under my ear, making me smile. He stands up straight again, his arms still wrapped around my waist. I watch as his bright green eyes flicker from my dark brown ones to my lips. One hand that was wrapped around my waist comes up and he sets it on the back of my neck. He pulls me forward and connects our lips. I get weak in the knees and if Harry didn’t have a tight grasp around my waist, I’m sure I would’ve fallen to the ground. I pull away as I realize I have nothing but a towel on.
“I’m going to get changed,” I tell Harry smiling.
“Are you sure? I like this new look.”
I punch him softly in the shoulder, “Cheeky bastard.”
He laughs and his hands drop from around my waist. I turn around and as I am about to open the bathroom door I hear Harry as he asks, “Wait. What’s this?”
I stop in my place. He’s seen a scar. “W-What?” I ask, my voice shaking slightly.
I feel his thumb on the back of my neck. It’s not a scar. It’s my tattoo. “This.”
“A tattoo.”
“Well obviously,” I can hear him smiling, “When did you get it?”
“After Zayn left. Or I thought he left.”
“What does it mean?” he asks, his thumb still tracing the tiny pattern. It is two lines connected at the top by a slanted line.
“It means strength. Myself, Melissa, Madi, and Niall all have it.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I say smiling.
He leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Let’s go get ready, yeah?”
I nod and open the door and step into my bedroom, Harry right behind me. “I’ll be downstairs. Take your time getting ready, babe,” he says as he kisses the top of my head and walks out of my bedroom door, shutting it behind him.
I walk over to my closet, picking out an outfit for the day. I choose a pair of jeans that are torn and a UCLA sweatshirt. I throw on a pair of white converse that aren’t so white anymore. I go back into the bathroom and put a little bit of mascara on my lashes and decide that’s enough. I keep my hair in the messy bun it’s in and decide I look good enough. I make my way out of my bedroom, grabbing my phone on the way out. I tucked my phone away in my back pocket and jogged down the stairs. I saw Melissa folding the blankets that were on the floor and I made my way over to her. “Need some help?” I ask.
She turns around and smiles, “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
I nod and pick up a blanket, beginning to fold it. “Where are the boys?”
“They went back to their place to get ready. They’ll be back soon.”
I nod and we finish folding the blankets in silence. When we are finished Melissa and I make our way over to the kitchen where she plops down on one of the island chairs. I walk over to our Keurig and turn it on. I grab a mug and put some hot water into it. I grab a tea bag and stir it in, along with a spoonful of sugar. I take a sip of the hot beverage and let it soothe my throat. I lean my back against the countertop, while Melissa is sat across the counter on a chair. “So what’s going on with you and Liam, huh?” I ask nosily.
I watch as her tanned cheeks turn a bright pink color and she smiles. “I mean he kissed me, but we haven’t like, made anything official. I don’t really know where we stand.”
I nod and take another sip of my tea. Moments like these, where it’s just my best friend and I, or Harry and I, almost make me forget about Zayn completely. “I can tell he likes you.”
Her head shoots up and her eyes light up. I smile, “Really? You think so?” she asks.
“Definitely. And I can tell you like him too.”
She blushes again and nods.
While I take another gulp of tea, I hear a knock at the door and Melissa goes over to answer it. A minute later I see the boys come strutting into the kitchen, Melissa behind them.
Harry comes over to my side, while Liam takes a seat on one of the island chairs, next to Melissa. Harry wraps an arm around my waist and I lay my head on his shoulder, our height difference causes him to have to lean down a little more. “So what are we doing today?” Liam asks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Author’s Note
I hope you guys liked this chapter! Hope you all are well! Talk to you soon.
Much love,
.xx Sara