Personal Assistant ➵ H.S.

44

"C'mere baby, let's patch you up."

You spoke softly as you led a very distraught Harry towards his ensuite bathroom. Liam hadn't managed to get any hits in, so it was just Harry's busted knuckles that needed some attention.

The parallel between you cleaning Harry's wounds and him cleaning yours after your birthday was not lost on you as you sat him down on the lid of the toilet seat and began to dab a damp cloth over the broken skin.

Silence filled the room as you carried on dressing the small areas of split skin. You could read exactly what was going on in Harry's mind and knew there was nothing you could say right now to stop his spiralling thoughts.

On one hand Harry was still so angry at Liam for having put him in that position with the words he used to get the exact reaction from Harry that he'd desired; Harry couldn't help but feel weak. But then the more predominate thought pounding around Harry's still drunken brain was that he had failed to protect you, again.

A sniffle from Harry made you look up from his hands, worry etched on your features. He wouldn't meet your eyes.

"Harry please stop beating yourself up, I'm okay I promise -"

"Cecy I didn't fucking protect you when I should have, the way he - he had his hands on you! I'll n-never forgive myself," the anguish in his voice was palpable, but you knew it was also stemming from the haziness of his thoughts.

You stood up from your kneeled position, finished with Harry's now clean knuckles and stood between his parted knees. His head hung low and you tucked your fingers under his chin to lift his watery gaze up to yours.

"Harry, it's okay, I love you," you said soothingly, running your fingers across his scalp and noticing the way his eyelids fluttered, "C'mon lets go to bed."

He nodded sullenly but took your outstretched hand and stood up. You both made your way into his bedroom, taking your clothes off and slipping into one of Harry's t-shirts before helping him get undressed down to his underwear.

You slipped into bed and tucked the covers around you both. Harry instantly had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his face snuggled into your neck and it made a lump form in your throat at how much he was hurting.

Running your fingers through his knotted curls again, you felt his breathing slow until soft little puffs of air caressed the skin of your neck.

You on the other hand, stayed awake for a while longer, staring up at the ceiling with a feeling of guilt for not having told Harry the full truth of what had happened tonight.

But moving your gaze down to stare lovingly at the wonderful man curled around your body, holding onto you so tightly even as he slept like you were his life raft in a stormy sea, you knew the unknown information that Harry had been filmed could wait until tomorrow.

◇

The first morning of the new year dawned bright, the cold January sunshine seeping through the blinds of Harrys room.

Untangling yourself carefully from your deeply snoozing boyfriend, you went to the kitchen to get some water for you both, grabbing some tablets for the sore head and hands Harry was bound to have when he woke up.

Padding back into the room quietly you noticed Harry had just begun to stir, so making your way over to his side of the bed, you sat down on the edge and stroked his cheek with a smile laced with sadness.

"Morning baby," you whispered as his emerald irises flickered into view, instantly filling with love when they spied you.

"G'morning beautiful," he mumbled before yawning and stretching, reminding you of a lion waking up in the sun what with his mane of disheveled curls, the lighter brown hues looking almost golden in the sunshine that bathed the room.