Amelia Adams
I hate Harry Styles.
I can't believe I kissed him, and I can't believe I ever let him kiss me. He seriously kissed me back because he feels bad for me? If this doesn't kick my pride then I don't know what does.
I don't know why I kissed him. Something came over me and I just did it. Maybe it was just my emotions getting to me- when I found out he took care of me after I got out of the holding cell, it made me feel different about him. I felt more trusting in his hands and I think that was the first time in forever I felt that way.
I was never one to trust people. Even with my parents, I never felt completely secure. I love my parents but they always never seemed to love me as much as they loved Adrian. Adrian was their first born and their pride an joy. He was the smart quarterback party guy while I was the quiet reserved girl in the back of the class who liked to draw. My grades were fine, but my parents never held me on the same pedi stole as they did for Adrian.
He was always more important. They never knew about anything going along in my life; all they cared about was Adrian.
They didn't neglect me- but they never made me feel as loved.
Suddenly a loud bang shakes my door and my body jumps slightly. Why can't he just leave me alone?
"Amelia unlock the door; you should never have it locked to begin with." He mumbled through the door.
"Why should I let you in?" I say in a annoyed tone.
"Amelia Joyce open the fucking door, or I will smash it down." He says a bit louder and more irritated.
I huff and get off my bed, trudging over to the door and unlocking it- not bothering to open the door.
I turn around and Harry swings the door open immediately. He grabs my wrist from behind me and slams me against the wall- causing me to gasp lightly from impact.
Harry stands towering over me, pressing his body to mine and holding my wrists to my sides against the hard wall. He looked irritated- but calm. His dark pink lips were quietly shut while his emerald eyes burned into my own.
"Do you think I would hit you if you ever pulled away from me kissing you?" He says calmly while almost touching our noses together.
"Why are you here Harry? You've already made me feel like garbage once today. Can't you just leave me alone." I try to get as far away from him as possible but I'm literally up against the wall.
"But I counteracted it with making you feel good today." His raspy voice chimes while a smirk plasters his lips.
"You don't get it do you?" I say unaffected from his seductive words.
"What are you talking about?" He asks.
"You say what ever the hell you want to me then expect to walk in here and pretend like everything is fine. You say such hurtful things to me Harry- and I don't even think you realize it." I feel my voice start to crack from getting worked up.
"I don't-" He starts but I cut him right off.
"You abuse my feelings Harry! You make me feel a certain way then throw it in my face after. You play these stupid head games and expect that I'm just going to let it go. I can't let you do this to me anymore, if you wanna hate me and keep me locked up all day then do it- but I'm not going to do this back and forth crap anymore." I say with every ounce of courage in me.
"I'm not playing any 'stupid head games'. You did the same thing to me and you just don't want to admit it. You walked right up and kissed your kidnapper Amelia, so you can't point your finger at me when it comes to playing games." He fires back calmly but with so much depth to his words.
"Okay fine I made a mistake, happy? Don't worry I won't do it again." I admit to his stubbornness.
"Why do you over think this shit so much? Who really cares that we made out." He rolls his eyes.
"Because Harry! Not only do you mess with my head all the time, you also don't tell me anything. I'm left in the dark about everything going on around me. Anytime I ask you a simple question about anything you freak out at me. You rip me away from my life for a reason I will never figure out, and then throw me in a bubble where I can't communicate with anyone. You'll never understand what I through." I shout and angrily push by his cold hard exterior, surprisingly he lets me.
The walk to my bed feels like the longest walk ever because of this heated moment.
"I have Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy." His voice echoes from behind me as I just reach my bed. I instantly stop in my tracks and slowly turn back around to face him leaning against the closed door.
"What?" I ask, still annoyed.
"It's what I take the meds for everyday." He says while pushing himself off the door and slowly walking towards me, hands folded behind his back with his lip ring captured between his white teeth.
"What's Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy?" I ask in confusion. What ever it is- doesn't sound good.
"It's a heart condition. Basically my heart muscles are thickened and it causes abnormal blood flow to my heart. I take the medication to lower my blood pressure or else my heart will pump too fast and I can go into cardiac arrest." He explains while reaching my bed, sitting on the edge while I still stand.
Woah, I can't believe he is actually telling me this.
"How long have you had this condition?" I mumble in a more calm state, sitting down next to him.
"I was born with it, but it has gotten worse the older I got. I had to start taking medication for it when I was eleven because I suddenly fainted walking home one morning. Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy is bearable to live with but it will most likely shorten my lifespan." He explains while starring at his knees, folding his hands on his legs in a casual matter.
"So if you miss taking you medication for one day you can die?" I ask.
"Not necessarily, if I miss it for three days in a row then I possibly can. But I take it everyday just to be sure and get in routine." He speaks in his quiet low voice.
"Have you ever almost got to that point?" I mumble while looking at him looking at his lap.
"No but when I was eighteen I overdosed on cocaine and it interfered with the medication. I was rushed to the emergency room when my mate found me having a seizure on the bathroom floor of a bar." He murmurs and it shocks me. He did cocaine? What kind of life was this guy living at eighteen...
The thought of Harry having a seizure on the bathroom floor actually freaks me out because I can picture it in my head.
"That's terrifying." I almost whisper.
"Yeah but I got to the hospital in time and the doctors worked their magic. So I've been clean of drugs ever since." He looks up from his lap and at meets his eyes with mine.
"I guess you learned from it then."
He chuckles slightly and nods, "I guess you can look at it that way."
"So why the cocaine?" I further discuss.
"Why not the cocaine?" He contradicts, raising his eyebrows at the word not. His lips ring sits between his perfect set of teeth while his hand that danced with rings runs through his curly locks.
"That's not a good enough reason to do cocaine Harry." I laugh. As if I'm taking this jokingly.
"I did a lot of drugs back then. Except for ketamine cause that shit fucks you up apparently." He states in a lighthearted humorous manner.
I laugh and shove him lightly with my body, "Shut up."
He laughs with me at his clever remark, flashing me his beautiful smile that I don't see enough. His dimples pop in excitement and his teeth shine through. His jaw tenses but only from his laughter, making me smile slightly.
"Why are you looking at me with that smile? Every time I laugh you do that." He chuckles and looks at me through his light green eyes.
"You have a lovely smile." I spit out, feeling my stomach turn.
"Really?" He questions. His eyes darting from my eyes and to my mouth, then back again.
"Yes really. Has no one ever told you that?" I reassure.
He turns his head away and scratches the back of his neck, face falling from the beautiful smile he once had shining on his face.
"Uhm...No- No I don't think so." He says awkwardly.
"Oh come on. Never a girlfriend or anything?" I nudge him.
"No uh- I never had a girlfriend." He looks back at me and half smiles.
That actually doesn't surprise me one bit. Harry seems to be too controlling to ever be in a relationship.
"Why?"
"Why would I wanna be tied down to one girl? I much rather be alone with the ability of sleeping with whoever I want then be committed to one chick." He states clearly.
"You know their is more to a relationship then physical stuff right?" I arch my brow.
"Well obviously but it is definitely the most important part. What if you start seeing someone and commit to them but then later find out their awful at sex?" He turns it around and asks me.
I roll my eyes at his typical vulgar remarks.
"I wouldn't care. If I love them then it doesn't matter. What if you met someone tomorrow and you fell completely head over heels for them but then found out THEY aren't good at the physical stuff?" I shoot back the same question.
"I would never commit to someone before sleeping with them. And why do you keep calling it 'physical stuff'?" He furrows his brows and makes the cliche two curled finger quotes around the last two words.
"I don't know- other terms
make me uncomfortable, is there an issue?" I intersect.
"No, it's just funny. At least you don't say 'making love'." He chuckles.
"Ew I hate that term- it's so corny" I scrunch my nose and shake my head.
"Yeah it's not realistic at all. People don't fuck for love; people fuck for their own personal benefit." He clears his throat.
"Well I believe people do it cause they love each other- but I just don't like the term 'making love'." I readjust my statement.
"You can keep saying that but at the end of the day any guy you meet just wants to get his dick wet- and girls just want to be the ones to give that to them so they can feel special." Harry's remarks make me scrunch my nose again at his uncomfortable references. It kind of pisses me off that Harry is so conceited to think this way.
"That's not true. Not everyone is like you. Sometimes love exists Harry." I argue calmly. This man has never loved anyone so he why would I think he'd believe in it.
"Amelia you won't get it right now because you are so naive, but one day you'll realize that guys use relationships for sex and women use sex for relationships. Men and women are too opposite to ever want the same things in life." He grasps his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger- speaking his mind.
"You really don't believe in love?" I ask.
"No- no I don't." He shrugs his shoulders and forms his lips into a line.
It really sad to think that he doesn't believe in love. Even if he's a cold hearted monster- you really need to be very deranged to not believe in love. I would feel bad if anyone didn't believe in such a thing. Not believing love just shows how lonely a person can be. Harry obviously sleeps around to avoid the emptiness he has inside of him. I mean, before I got here he lived all on his own.
But on the other hand, Harry isn't a unattractive man. I'm sure if he really wanted a relationship it wouldn't take him long to get one- as long as they can live with his controlling aspects.
I slowly nod at his response and he lays back on the bed. His long body stretches at the foot of the bed while his feet still stay planted on the ground. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing the two vine tattoos on his v-lines.
"You didn't answer my question earlier." He mumbles while folding his hands over his stomach.
"What question?"
"Do you actually think I would hit you if you pulled away from a kiss?" He sincerely asks while staring at the ceiling.
I huff and lay back next to him, mimicking his body language and staring at the intricate stone ceiling.
"No- I was just angry." I murmur.
"Why were you angry?" His immersed voice almost whispers.
"Because every time you kiss me, you pull away and say that you 'can't do this'. It's really aggravating Harry." I mumble.
"I just don't want to give you the wrong idea. I don't need you to think that I want anything serious or shit." He runs his and through his roots again.
"I never wanted that. I know you a little better then you think. As much as it can be fun to do what we are doing, you're still my kidnapper. That's why I think we shouldn't do that anymore. It makes things to complicated because we are always fighting after. We already hate each other to begin with it's better to just tap out now." I almost whisper.
"I agree." He almost whispers through his monotone accent.
We both lay silently staring at the ceiling with dull expressions on our face. My eyes concentrate on every stoned crack or crevice in the ceiling while my mind floods with thoughts of Harry.
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