T.W: Mentions of sexual misconduct
After fleeing from the embarrassing scene at your apartment, Harry drove to his sister's house in East London. He planned to vent, fill her in on his troubles and trust her to give him some guidance as she had so many times in his life.
Gemma let him in with a hug and got him settled at her kitchen counter with a mug of milky tea with a teaspoon of honey. She knew from past experiences it helped deteriorate his anxiety whilst she talked some calmness into his situation and investigate what was bothering him.
He talked for ages, pacing the white tile of her kitchen while she sat on a stool and listened to him. He told her how the two of you agreed to be friends, but flirt and have sleepovers where you share the same bed. He expressed that his feelings had grown for you, and he was in a hard place.
You'd both been sleeping around like normal, but his heart had shattered when he ran into your hookup in your hotel in L.A. And then you closed off after his party, and how he felt so guilty for sleeping with his ex and you seemed upset by it but then went and had dinner with your ex. He knew he had no right to be mad at you but he was. He was fucking destroyed.
Gemma nodded in understanding and kept her advice simple because she knew he'd be hard to get through to when he was this upset and conflicted.
"You need to tell her, H."
He growled in frustration. "I tried! But then I go over to her apartment and she's getting ready to go on a date with her fucking ex before I even had a chance."
Gemmas brows rose in question, "Did she tell you it was a date?"
That stumped him a little and he fought to find reason, "Well no, she said she was getting dinner with him but she was wearing this dress and heels and red lipstick and-"
Gemma stopped his pacing by placing her hands on his wide shoulders. "Harry. Did she look you in the eye and tell you it was a date?"
"I... no." He spluttered into silence.
"Okay... and did you even let her talk before you exploded at her?"
"No." He voiced in defeat.
She sighed and rubbed her forehead, "Harry..."
"Did I overreact?" He felt immense anxiety and remembered your face when he was yelling at you in your apartment. The hurt in your eyes that were glistening with tears, pools of pain and anguish he was swimming in.
"I mean... you're justified in being annoyed but you should have let her explain herself."
"Fuck." He exhaled, feeling like a fool for not cooling himself in the moment. He let his anger take control of himself and the situation and it hurt you. He was scared he'd fucked up so bad and he didn't know how to fix it without your entire relationship being rerouted to something different.
You'd sent him a few texts since he left your apartment and tried to call him a bunch and he'd ignored it all. He figured he needed to try and calm himself and figure out how to resolve all of this and if he answered you in that state it would have been messy.
His phone buzzed on the counter and he reached over for it. He frowned at the text he'd received from you and noted how odd it was, the letters immediately raising goosebumps up his spine.
need ur help rightnow
And the name of a restaurant in Covent Garden. It wasn't far, he was hoping he could make it there in time to help you with whatever was happening.
"Oh, fuck." He swiped his car keys off the counter and kissed Gemmas forehead, "I gotta go. I'll call you, okay? Thank you for your help as always."
"You'll figure it out one of these days, baby bro. Love you." She walked him to his car, trying to waver her concern about him but she couldn't help but feel protective of her brother. He'd been thrown into this world with no clue, the media out to get him and girls using him because of his name.
Harry kept trying to swallow his nausea on his way to the restaurant in Covent Garden. He wasn't sure what to expect. Your text was mildly incoherent, he wondered if maybe you were drunk and trying to say something frantic in order to get his attention. And it worked. He was too concerned and crushed by the situation to ignore you any longer. He planned to eliminate any danger you could potentially be in.
He parked around the corner of the restaurant and ducked his head, not wanting to bring any attention to himself. He peeked inside the restaurant and couldn't see you, but it was such a large space he had no choice but to go inside and scan each and every table. He couldn't see you. You weren't here.
Had you gone home? And had your ex gone with you?
His anxiety increased when he called your phone and received no answer. Each ring enticed a new curse to tumble from his lips.
He frantically looked around the street as if he could get an inkling of where you were.
Need your help right now.
He was here. Here to help.
Where were you?
Your cherry coloured heels and your confusing intentions.
Gone.
Your presence replaced with his wrongfulness and increasing consternation.
He made his way down the street, thinking maybe you hadn't gone too far. He peered into each side street and to his dismay still couldn't locate you.
Any anger towards you that he'd felt had diminished completely, but then a rage returned, flashes of red crossed his vision, and clenched his fists as he saw your ex up a side street not far from the restaurant.
Alex's arms were around you, your body stumbling as you tried to keep yourself upright. He thought maybe his suspicions were correct, that you were in fact drunk and had sent that text to get a reaction from him.
But then he saw your ex slam you against the passenger door of his car, and your fists smacking his chest in protest, he then saw the fear in your features. Your cheeks were wet with tears and your brows furrowed in terror.
Harry drew himself towards the situation slowly, aware of the people in the street still and not wanting to cause a scene. He needed to get you out of this situation safely but couldn't if someone caught sight of him and stopped him.
His step quickened when Alex worked to put you in the passenger seat of his car and his heart plummeted at the idea of him hurting you. Your body was heavily fatigued and at his complete mercy.
You'd trusted this man. And he kicked your cherry heels out from underneath you and made you fear him.
He thought back to when he showed you his favourite watercolour artwork in his office, how one could only interpret peace and ease in being the woman bathing in the stream. But right then, you were drowning in the unknown depths of horror and inequity. Your limbs were tangled in the weeds corrupting the serenity of the scene as you fought for a grasp on the situation to reach the surface for awaited breath.
Harry was the artist, painting your fate. He was working his way towards the car, painting light blue strokes of a forgiving tide to save you from the abyss.
"Hey!" His voice was grave as he yelled at Alex who walked around to the driver's side.
Alex was immediately on guard, his plans for the night hitting a bump he didn't expect. He didn't foresee Harry becoming an obstacle between you and him, at least not tonight. He wasn't sure if it was a coincidence that Harry was here but was quickly distracted from the logistics as Harry came to stand in front of him and slammed his hand to the door, preventing Alex from opening it.
"What's going on?"
Harry's eyes were a dark fissure of green that mirrored his stormy mood. His jaw was clenched as he stared down at your ex. He needed to get you out of the car but he wasn't sure how yet. He needed to confront Alex first. He needed to eliminate the threat before he could rescue you.
Alex's eyes rolled up in annoyance, "She had too much to drink, just taking her home, mate."
Harry scoffed, knowing there was more to what was happening. He didn't mistake the terror in your eyes before he put you in the car. He was worried that you hadn't tried to exit the vehicle and he wasn't sure if the door was locked or if you were too out of it to even attempt it or both.
"That's not what it looked like. Let me talk to her." Harry was trying to reason with him, not wanting to anger him in case it endangered you.
"She's pretty drunk, don't think you'll get much out of her."
Harry's knuckles cracked under the pressure of his clenched fists at his excuses, his concern for you growing more and more by the second.
"Look, you need to let me check on her. If she's okay, I'll let you leave with your face intact."
"Yeah not happening, you need to back off. She's not your fucking girlfriend."
Harry took a deep breath, combing his brain to find one single reason not to smash his face into the concrete road. He didn't want a violent ending and opted for ripping the car keys from Alex's hands while Alex yelled out at him in protest.
Alex saw his control slip away and panicked at the fact that he had a barely conscious girl in his front seat and an angry witness ready to take him down. He was ridden with fear and was left with no defense but to land a hard punch straight to Harry's jaw. "I said back off!" He yelled.
Harry stumbled back in shock, spouting out curses and yells, the keys dropping to the ground. "Fuck!" His beautiful girl was trapped, his head was pounding, his blood was pouring and trickling from his mouth down to the ground much like his hope for your welfare and his ability to protect you.
He roared in anguish, his frame towering over Alex as he pulled his arm back and released his vexation through his powerful punch to Alex's face. He heard the crunch of his nose breaking and felt the pain tingle up his arm from the force but shook it away.
You were his priority right now. You were his priority always.
"Fuck you." He spat. "If you've hurt her, I'm going to fucking end you." His eyes were venomous, displaying his sheer anger and hatred towards Alex who cowered away with blood spouting from his nose. Harry stood on guard, ready to knock the fucker out if need be.
Alex spat out blood at Harry's boots and tried to stumble to his feet but failing with a groan.
"Are you done?! You want some fucking more?!" He was furious. Taking his anger out on Alex. Some anger that was sourced because of you.
But he felt none of that now.
Someone had put you in harm's way and he couldn't fucking fathom it.
You were such a fiery source of power, an embodiment of might and tenderness. A striking creature and he couldn't fucking believe where this man had cornered you into.
Your cherry heels, your sunflower dress. His perfect fucking divine sweetheart.
Harry made his way to the passenger door, unlocking it and feeling heavy despair in his chest. Your barely conscious frame resting in the seat. He crouched down and gently coerced you by running his shaking fingers along your cheek.
"Baby," his voice quaked with tears.
You didn't respond. Harry envisioned the night playing out and ending with you in hospital and it was fucking heartbreaking but then you came around when you heard his voice.
"H-Harry?" The space between your brows creased as your head turned towards him, eyes slowly blinking as he ran his hands up and down your arms to wake you gently.
"Hey darling, it's me, I'm here." His voice was gentle as he tried to get you to understand what was happening.
Your voice was a whine he barely heard. You sounded so helpless. "Please..."
"I'm gonna take care of you, now. I've got you."
His eyes scanned the car, determining a way to go about this rescue mission. He'd have to carry you down the street and hoped he could do so without question, or perhaps aid you in walking so it didn't draw attention.
He whipped his jacket from his torso and wrapped it around you, grabbed your handbag and slung it around his shoulder, and remembered he still had the car keys in his hand. He wasn't sure where Alex had got to but didn't hesitate to drop the keys into a drain grate before scooping you up out of the car.
"Can you stand?"
Your nod was slow, your eyes barely opened as your hand cradled your throbbing head. You felt awful. Like you were experiencing every comedown you'd ever had all at once. You fought to find control of your legs and he leaned you against his large frame for support.
"I'm just parked up the street." He assured you as he guided you away from the scene. He looked back and didn't see Alex anywhere and was glad he had the right idea to run before Harry could beat him senseless.
Harry got you to his Range Rover and sat you in the passenger seat and clicking the seatbelt. He kissed your forehead and felt so much pity, so much suffering on behalf of you. He knew what was coming for you. The confusion, the betrayal. You were a victim of something horrible that night and Harry could only hope you'd recover. It wasn't your fault.
"I'm so sorry, baby." He said softly before kissing your forehead.
He called someone on his team, at a loss for what to do in this situation. They'd connected him to a private emergency medical team who said they'd meet him at his house to check on you. He wasn't sure what Alex had slipped into your drink to drug you, but they said that you'd be fine, these things were unfortunately common and rarely resulted in anything fatal.
When he got you home, he felt no relief. No happiness at the fact that you were with him. You were suffering. You'd endured something no woman should ever have to and it only angered him further.
He couldn't help but think he could have prevented this and he didn't know how he'd tell you about what had been done to you.
The medics prescribed pain relief and plenty of fluids to flush your system. They educated Harry on how to handle the situation and that you'd be physically fine, you just needed plenty of rest and water.
He felt sick as he tucked you into his bed, a living breathing temptress in his sheets that deserved the world but was dealt a shit situation. He wondered if he should call any of your family members or perhaps a friend but decided to wait until you woke up.
He sat on top on the bedding all night, your hand in his and pressed to his lips as he left delicate pecks to the skin. He flared healing energy and love into the touch as if he could really fix this.
He's sorry he left your apartment how he did. He's sorry he didn't stop and listen to your reasoning. He's sorry he didn't convince you to stay with him and tell you about how deeply he cared for you.
You thought you were dreaming.
Submerged in the familiar silky deluge of his bed was a comfort combined with the warm vanilla scent you often smelt on his skin. The dream was marred as you slowly blinked your mind into being and felt a heavy ache in your head and all over drowsiness. You slowly turned your head to gather your wits to see you were in fact in Harry's bed. You stretched tentatively and pet your hand down your body and discovered you were still in your dress.
What had happened?
You tried to recollect the events of your dinner with Alex and felt the sting in your eyes as you remembered what had happened.
The drinks he gave you.
His hands all over you.
His nonchalant expression as he pressed you against his car.
Your tears as you internally begged him to stop because your mouth wouldn't form the words.
How helpless you felt as your body gave up on you.
Your memory of the event stopped there. What had happened? Harry had rescued you but when? What did he discover when he found you?
Harry entered the room with a glass of water and closed the door with a gentle click so as not to disturb you.
His efforts, however, were for nothing. You sat up in the bed in fright, gripping the sheets to your chest as you stared at him with big glossy eyes. You were relieved when you saw it was him.
He'd saved you from the abyss of the steam drowning you, cut the weeds threatening you but you were shrouded with confusion and a trauma soon to be uncovered.
"Hey," he began carefully, knowing you'd be in a fragile state from last night. He sat on the edge of the bed and offered you the glass in his large hand with some painkillers.
You calmed and took it gratefully, gulped the contents down, your throat so dry it stung. You avoided looking at him and he hoped it wasn't in shame.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, and breathing out a sigh of relief when you grabbed his hand with a squeeze.
"Like shit," You moaned, rubbing your forehead and hoping the pain medication would set it quickly.
"What do you remember?" He wanted to figure it out sooner rather than later, knowing it was heavy information for you to take in but he couldn't hold it from you. He was hoping you could fill him in on what happened before you'd even left the restaurant. And perhaps why you even went to dinner with Alex in the first place.
"Most of it." You admitted, looking down at your hand in his as you played with his rings.
He swallowed thickly, trying to shelf his emotions for your sake. He was so shaken up and distraught and couldn't even begin to conceptualise what you were feeling.
"You saved me." Your voice was a soft broken utter and he wrapped you in his arms as he hushed you.
"Of course. I'm glad you were able to text me when you did."
You pulled back, wiping tears from your eyes. "I'm so sorry about-"
"No. Don't say that, you have nothing to apologise for. Absolutely nothing."
"Can you tell me what happened? When you found me."
Harry looked down at your joined hands and stroked his thumb along the back of your hand in gentle motions as he took a deep breath.
"Took me a bit to find you. Saw him," his eyes narrowed as he recalled the memory. "He forced you into his car and I had a go at him. Tried to keep the situation calm so that you were safe... Fuck. I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad. I was so livid."
And it was then you fully looked at him and noticed the forming bruise on his jaw and busted lip. "Harry, oh my god, your face!"
He shrugged, "it's fine. I iced it, it'll heal. Can't say the same for him. Broke the fuckers nose, lucky that's all he got."
"Jesus..." you hung your head, feeling the full intensity of the situation. Not only had you been out in danger but Harry had been hurt because of you. "I'm so sorry."
"Stop apologising." His eyes were pleading. "You trusted him and he... he hurt you. God, I'm lucky I got there when I did. It's not your fault." He grasped your face in his hands, ignoring his stinging knuckles from the punch he threw. "It's not your fault."
"I just feel so stupid."
"You trusted him. He was a man you knew and trusted, he made the mistake. He fucked up. And he's gonna pay for it, I've already got my team looking for a lawyer. With your permission, they'll start a case against him, file a report."
"Harry no, you can't do that."
"But-"
"I don't want to do that. I want to put it behind me and move on." You were upset, of course. But you were solid in your beliefs that you got off unscathed in comparison to what could have happened. You doubted you'd have to deal with Alex ever again- especially if Harry had anything to do with it.
He never questioned your decisions or your strength but that shocked him. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, really."
"If you change your mind..."
"I won't."
Harry didn't leave you alone all day. You had showered and felt much better after, the scolding water and steam diminishing the events from the night and you were grateful. It had happened but you were saved before it got any worse. You were unsure of how you'd ever be able to repay him. How do you thank someone enough after they rescue you from that kind of situation? How do you thank someone for taking a punch because of you?
He made sure you ate plenty, drank heaps, and gave you some of his comfy clothes to lounge around in.
For dinner, the two of you sat and ate dinner in front of the sofa, pizza boxes open on the coffee table in front of you. Harry flicked on a movie that he kept quoting between mouthfuls of pizza.
After, he wrapped you up in a blanket and cuddled you on his large sofa while you watched romcoms and he played with your hair. He kept your body and mind occupied and distracted so well, and you peppered his wounded jaw with soft healing kisses. He nestled into your warmth, spooning you from behind with a content sigh.
"Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
You turned to look at him with a raised brow that gave him the green light.
"Why did you go out with him? Was it a date?"
You sighed and turned to face the T.V, seeing the movie but not paying attention. "He showed up with my friend the other night. I had no idea he was coming and he asked if we could have dinner, kept pulling the 'we can be friends' card. I said yes because..."
He held his breath, the confession a long-awaited one. He wanted the details, wanted to know why you'd agreed to meet the man for who you held so much disdain.
"I wanted to close that chapter in my life. Officially. I was ready to tell him to leave me alone for good and be done with him. I guess he knew it was coming and that's why he did what he did."
Harry rested his head between your shoulder blades in solace of your explanation.
You turned to look at him with a softened expression that was almost sympathetic. "You thought I was going back to him, didn't you? That's why you left me before I could explain."
His gaze turned down away from yours. He licked his lips and felt a sense of shame when he said, "Yeah. I did."
"Harry," you whined.
"What?" He exclaimed, his accent thick.
"You know why I broke up with him. He's the last person I'd want to be with. Especially now, obviously."
His eyes narrowed playfully. "Well, I get it now. And also, you don't wanna be with anyone full stop." He teased.
You were shy and buried your head in his chest. "Shut up."
"But seriously... I'm truly so sorry I let how hurt I was take over before I gave you a chance to explain. I guess in my mind I was frustrated because you said you didn't want a relationship and then you went back to hi-"
"I didn't go back to him." You interrupt and he eyes you with a soft expression.
"What I perceived as you going back to him. To this guy who wanted to have a life with you, marry you, have children with you. You've told me a million times you didn't want any of that and then you were giving him what he wanted. And... You didn't even give me a chance."
You sighed, your walls started to come straight back up as he tested your limits once more. "Harry... I'm sorry that's what you thought was happening but you can't say I'm not giving you a chance. You know me better than I've ever let anyone know me before. But I don't know how many times I can say that I'm not looking for that right now. You and I aren't in a relationship and-"
"No, we aren't. And you keep making sure of that." Harry was getting worked up now. Sick of the endless circle he was chasing you in. "Cut the shit for a second. I'm not talking about kids or marriage. I mean just being with me. None of that other stuff."
"What?"
"Is that really how you feel? You don't want me?"
"It's not that." You whispered. You sat up and readied yourself for this conversation. You were terrified of what this kind of progression could mean and all it would entail. Of what his life was and what yours would become. You had one foot out the door, already so happy with your life and still attempting to gauge if it was truly the right move. You knew he was worth it but you were hesitant, and rightly so.
"Then what is it?" He pressed. "Because I'm all for us. You know that. And I've been patient and understanding with what you want but it's just so confusing because you say we can't do this or that but then you turn around and ask to sleep in my bed with me and flirt with me and I flirt back but that shit hurts."
Your gaze finally met his defeated expression. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to say." You felt ambushed, still trying to figure out your thoughts.
That was a shocking expression to hear from you.
He switched gears, pulling something from his mind that he hadn't stopped thinking about but wasn't sure how to approach with you but he needed all his cards laid out on the table tonight. "Why? Is this about L.A?"
"L.A?" You quizzed, your look of confusion pushed him to explain.
"That's why you're so scared, isn't it? Because you felt how real we are. Felt how good we could be if you just let us happen."
"Harry, what-"
"I kissed you, and you stopped it."
His words shocked you so fiercely. Dropping you into veering currents that pulled you each and every way. A reminder of the secret you had kept from him, the feelings you'd felt from that moment sat intensely in the front of your mind every day alongside the pain of him claiming to not remember.
But there he was, knowing full-well what happened, and he hid the fact that he knew because he knew it would scare you off once he brought it up. Harry knew you were both intoxicated from the night and he was even more so. His interrogation the next morning was a clear indicator of your knowledge, telling him everything with just your expression. He hated the fact that it hurt you but he felt like he had no choice. You had stopped it and he thought you felt so much regret that it had happened, so why even bother trying to talk about it?
You didn't say anything, your anxiety on overdrive as you hung your head to reel in your emotions. To wade through the intensity of his confession and try to decipher the correct way to respond.
Harry continued, "And you didn't bring it up the next morning."
"Neither did you." You accuse.
"Because I knew you'd shut me out if I confronted you about it but you shut me anyway. Felt like hell when you pulled away from me like that."
"Yeah, you seemed really cut up about it while you were fucking your ex." You regretted throwing that in his face immediately because you were no better in your behaviour.
"Wow," He dropped his hands in defeat and blinked slowly. Your words cut deep because he'd had a feeling you had seen that fucking picture. You didn't actually know he'd actually fucked her but his reaction was very telling, it pretty much told you that he did. You nodded in understanding while hot tears pricked your eyes.
You sprung up from the couch, wanting to get away from him and this whole situation. Your mind was still a little cloudy from last night's events and your heart was hurting from this whole conversation. You needed air, you felt suffocated as you paced the room.
He remembered kissing you. He could easily recall the red hot heat from the whole interaction. His lips on yours, his hands trailing up and down your skin, how right you felt straddling him.
And just like that, you were sucked into the depths of the blue chasm again, hidden whirlpools pulling you under. You were left clawing in a fight while your chest ached from the burn of him.
---
Congrats on surviving the longest chapter I've written (so far)! So much to unpack but Harry is a saviour aaaaaand he actually did remember their moment in L.A and he's addressing this with FIRE.
Anyone else think he was making some valid comments during this chapter?
Or is he being too harsh?
There's so much I wanted to add, I didn't want it to end but it just too long so you'll have to wait for the next chapter, there's more raw moments coming for these two!
I hope you enjoyed! Comment and vote ❤️❤️
KISSES X X X