Lily's POV-
I was only going to grab my things. Only a few of my most important articles of clothing, and I would leave without even speaking a word to him. I had spent most of my night a crying mess on my sisters shoulder. I hadn't even been able to change out of the stupid dress from the night before. God only knows how many times I picked up the phone to dial his number, but my pride kept telling me that I shouldn't have been the one to apologize even if my heart felt like it would collapse if I went another hour without hearing his voice.
I passed each door until I got to the all too familiar red one with the golden "246" printed onto the wall beside it. Hopefully he would still be asleep. That way I could use my key to sneak in and grab whatever I needed and hurriedly leave. When did I become such a coward? If plan A failed and he was awake, I had already planned out this whole long speech about how he overreacted and that I needed a break. I just needed time to think.
The keys jingled a little too loudly in my shaking hand as I reached forward to place it into the lock. The door swung open, and I looked up to see my Harry. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess, and he was still clad in the same clothes from the day before like I was.
I took one look at him and every thought in my brain evaporated. I knew that I needed to begin explaining why I was here and to put Plan B into full affect, but I couldn't even remember what the hell plan B was. His forest eyes looked so full of sadness that it made me nearly crumble to my knees in front of him.
He didn't say anything either, instead opening his muscular arms wide. I knew that I came here to tell him that I couldn't see him anymore, but I found myself practically running into his arms. And then I started crying because why the hell would I ever even think about ending things with Harry?
"Oh my god," I sobbed into his chest. My eyes stung from all the crying I had already endured and it was only getting worse. "I'm so sorry."
I felt his arms tighten around me as he placed kisses onto the top of my head. "No, baby." His chest rumbled as he spoke. "We're fine. Everything is fine."
"I love you so much." And even though he was a complete ass sometimes, it was the truth. I perked my head up and pulled away from him, suddenly feeling very sick.
"I love you. I know I acted like a complete jackass-" he reached for my hand, but I pulled away. I couldn't believe him.
"You drank," I crossed my arms over my chest. He knew how much alcohol affected him. He knew I didn't like it.
He ran a hand through his hair, peeking up at me through the curls." Lily, I was upset-"
"You drank," i repeated, but this time it was me who ran a hand through my hair. I was just so frustrated. "You reek of alcohol. You can't just drink whenever there's an issue, Harry. That's what got you into trouble with Officer White in the first place."
He sighed and took a step back. "Your dad knew about me being locked up. He knew the whole story."
I nervously bit the inside of my cheek, exhaling loudly when the first taste of blood hit my tongue. I knew this conversation was going to come sooner or later and all I could seem to do was stare at my shoes and nervously twiddle my fingers.
"Lillian Brielle James," he said aggressively, causing me to snap my head up.
"Don't call me by my full name, Harold Edward Styles." And I wasn't mad because calling him by his full name seemed to lighten the mood immensely.
"Then tell me how he knew." Just as I was about to explain everything, his giant hand smothered my smaller hand and I was being dragged into his bedroom.
"Well my dad," I began, plopping onto the bed and pulling a pair of pajama shorts up my unshaved legs. I took note of three new bruises but I couldn't recall how I had gotten them. "He-uh- well he's a lawyer, a pretty good one actually."
I watched him nearly yank off the buttons on his shirt and I was going to get up and help him until he just decided to pull the shirt over his head. "Officer White and my father have been friends since high school. White saw potential in you, I guess, so he came to my dad and asked him what he could do instead of pressing charges." My favorite pair of sweatpants now covered his legs. They hung low on his hips but managed to fit him perfectly everywhere else.
We settled against the headboard side by side, although I would have preferred to be wrapped into him. "I was basically just supposed to watch you, make sure you did what you were supposed to, showed up on time, whatever, until the summer was over and you were off the hook." I reached out to reach his hand, I could do that couldn't I? Too bad, I was doing it anyway. "So yeah, that's the story."
"So your dad knew that i got into a drunken fight with White and he thinks that I'm this alcoholic guy who fights all the time?" He asked, and I breathed a sigh of relief when he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into his lap.
"Pretty much." I used my index finger to trace over the rose tattoo on his forearm. When I got to the bud of the flower, his bicep twitched gently.
"he's going to do anything he can to break us up is what you're telling me." And my heart nearly broke at his words. He had to be kidding.
I turned to look at his face. His eyes were back to the forest of sadness and I felt like I had just kicked a puppy. " I won't let that happen, Harry."
"But Lily, your dad-"
"No," I cut him off . "Look, as much as I hate the guy you used to be, you aren't that guy anymore. I don't care that you binge drank or that you used to chain smoke two packs a night or how many people you fought back then."
"You're not a bad person for the mistakes that you made, Harry. You're only human. And back then, you did what you thought was right for you. I don't blame you for that."
"My father's opinion of you doesn't affect how I see you at all. His opinion doesn't even matter to me. I will do whatever I have to do to keep us together."
Anyone who thought I would leave Harry was delusional. His past was a part of who he was. He couldn't change who he used to be and I shouldn't hold him against that. No one should.
"Your father wants you with Louis," he said after a moment, his lips pressed against my ear. "Your whole family seems to want you with Louis."
I forced myself out of his arms and sat cross legged in front of him. "I don't want to be with Louis. If I did, I wouldn't be here with you in this bed right now."
"Harry," I grabbed my hand in his, this time with confidence because I could do that. "These last four weeks- I've felt more in these past four weeks with you than I did spending four months with him. When I say I love you to you, I mean it. With him, it felt rehearsed and fake and just wrong."
Thinking back, my whole relationship with Louis was him stringing me along like a puppet. I never loved him, and thinking about how I had said those words to Louis made me sick to my stomach.
Now I was where I belonged. I belonged with Harry. My hands twisted in and out of his curls as he placed innocent kisses to my collarbones. I didn't feel like I was walking on broken glass anymore; which was great because there was still one thing that we needed to discuss.
"Harry?"
"Lily," he said back, his voice groggy with the sound of sleep.
"Harry," I said again and I felt him smile against my skin. "Can we please talk about Stanford? I know you said that it wasn't any of my business-"
"What do you want to know about it?" He surprised me by asking. His head lay on my chest and he was messing around with the hem of my night shirt.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't tell anyone."
"But why?"
He groaned and I knew it was supposed to sound frustrated, but it was sexy.
"Because to other people I'm "Harry Styles: the guy your parents warn you about", not "Harry Styles: the bookworm who's never gotten a grade lower than an 'A-.'"
"So you didn't tell because you didn't want to ruin your reputation?" I raised an eyebrow. Who knew he was so egotistical?
"Yeah, I guess so; however, it was mostly because I didn't have anyone to tell."
The first day I met Harry, he had told me he didn't have friends and I felt so bad for him even though he was an ass to me in the weeks that followed . Little did I know, he actually had lots of people that wanted to be his friend. He just didn't want to let them in. He didn't want to let anyone in.
Now he had me. He had me and he had finally let Ashton all the way in. I knew he was doing well with Niall and Zayn and I would let him take his time with that.
"I just love you so much and I want you to be able to tell me anything," I sighed, slumping over to press my lips to his forehead.
"I promise not to spring any more secrets on you during major holiday dinners," he chuckled.
I sighed even though I was smiling. "We're definitely spending Christmas with your family. We don't need another thanksgiving episode."
I was joking but for some reason I felt him stiffen. He tried to play it off by shifting around and awkwardly clearing his throat.
"What?" I wondered as he resumed playing with my fingers. Every single day it amazed me how much bigger his hands were than mine.
"Nothing." He shook his head. But I wasn't oblivious. Nothing was definitely something.
"Harry," I groaned, tugging on his curls lightly. I just went on this whole spiel about he should be comfortable telling me anything and here he was leaving me out again.
"I just don't really think that's a good idea." He shrugged as if I should have already known that. And before I could ask why he was talking again.
"The only family I have here is Anne and her new husband Robyn." His eyes were heavy and his accent was thicker than usual. "And I call her Anne because she hasn't been a mother figure to me in a very long time."
He looked up at me and I raised an eyebrow to tell him to keep going. "When I was ten- my uh, my parents divorced. At the time, I didn't really understand what was going on. All i knew is that my mum and my big sister always seemed to be crying."
"When Anne moved out, I thought it was great. Well, not great obviously, but it was exciting. I had two Christmases and two birthday parties and two bedrooms. But my sister, Gemma, always seemed unhappy, yanno?"
"She never came out of her room. She used to run around the house in her socks a lot just sliding across the floors and singing at the top of her lungs, but she stopped singing when Anne moved out. She started getting into a lot of trouble at school and stuff, too."
"Harry, you don't have to-" I began, but his eyes cut me off. They were somewhere else, a place far in the past.
"Gemma's four years older than me. I've always looked up to her- I think every younger sibling has that sort of admiration for their older sibling." And he was correct. Even though Ariana was my step sister, she was my role model. She had been since the first time I met her when I was only twelve.
"Anne and my dad didn't seem to notice how Gemma hardly ever talked or came out of her room. They always told her that she needed to change her attitude or they would just completely ignore her altogether."
He took a deep breath, probably debating on if he wanted to keep going. I have his hand a reassuring squeeze and he offered a smile. It wasn't very convincing.
"I was thirteen the first time I saw them. We were washing the dishes together and I had gotten her to laugh. It was so rare that she laughed and it made me feel great knowing I had caused it."
"I remember it perfectly. I had made her laugh so hard that she dropped the plate back into the water. She pulled up her sleeves to get it and uh-" his voice had been cracking in and out and I could tell right now he was mentally telling himself not to cry.
"Oh god, Lily, it was awful." He was trembling now from trying to keep the tears in. I was on the edge of crying, too. Seeing him so upset was absolutely heartbroken. "There were just so many-and they were so deep." he was full on sobbing now.
I held him while he cried, tears slipping down my cheeks as well. I rubbed his back and tried to comfort him like he always did for me.
"I told my Dad as soon as Anne dropped us off after her weekend was over. He did what he should have, he talked to her about it and promised he'd get her professional help if she wanted."
"But Anne on the other hand," he sniffled, trying to mask that he was just bawling his eyes out. I never understood why guys were so against crying. "When my dad told her what was going on, she didn't even bring it up to Gemma. She had just started seeing this new guy and she was so wrapped up in him that she made plans to move to America with him- some place in northern Philadelphia."
"And she left even though she knew what was going on. Her daughter was attempting to slit her wrists and she saw it fit to leave the fucking country. And I tried so hard to make her better and it only seemed to get worse" He was angry now. The shattered lamp on the floor was reminder enough of what could happen if his rage got out of hand and I couldn't witness it again. But what could I say that could make this better?
"Gemma started seeing a therapist, but Anne refused to see either one of us. Every time I asked to come visit it was always some excuse. By the time I was fifteen, I was so fed up with I that I just stopped calling altogether. I only contacted her when I moved here because I needed bail money."
"Hey," he snapped his head up to look at me. "Your sister is a fighter, okay? And you did your best to help her, but sometimes you just need to leave it up to the professionals."
"And about your mom-" he glared at me-"Anne, maybe she was just so overwhelmed by the situation she didn't know how to handle it."
"But running away from it isn't what a mother is supposed to do." He was tensing up again and I had to choose my next words wisely.
"It isn't, but you can't blame her forever." The words left my mouth but I couldn't believe them. I was angry at this Anne woman. She had abandoned her children when they needed her most. She was the reason that Harry had such a negative attitude on life.
"You're the first person I've ever told that to," he murmured , tracing tiny circles onto my back. He wanted to leave the subject of his mom alone and I was okay with that. That was up for him to decide. Now that I knew how he felt about her, I knew to leave her alone completely unless he was up to talk about it.
"Thank you," he said groggily. His eyes were closed and he was obviously only minutes from passing out.
"For what?" I wondered. I wasn't far behind him.
"Being here."
I smiled, placing an innocent kiss to his forehead. "I'm always gonna be here, Harry." Always.