hating me for loving you {h.s}

Chapter 22.

A/N: Think of Phoebe's tattoos as in Harry's handwriting!! Also, I'm sorry if I messed anything up in this, I wanted to get something out for you babies.

*PHOEBE'S POV*

"Sooner or later, the pain will go away, right?" My legs were shaking while I kept my hand in Harry's.

After getting all excited about getting this tattoo, I forgot about the needle part... that is until we stepped foot in the car, and my mind shut everything else off to only focus on needles.

I don't even understand where my fear came from, they're just so... painful. Who would want to even put themselves through that a hundred times?

Honest to god, I don't know how Harry does this all the time... it makes me look like a fucking five year old, flipping out about needles like I'm in fifth grade again.

Maybe this could actually help me get over my fear, I doubt it, but it's worth the space in my scattered brain to think about.

"I can't promise anything, because I know you have a fear and I don't... but I'll be there every minute of it, okay?" He looked over at me as his left hand was on the wheel, his right one intertwined with mine.

"Sorry if in advance if I squeeze your hand off, I almost did it to Dad's, too." I laughed at myself, only until the mention of my Dad hit my mind.

I've thought about him a lot recently, it's not a bad thing but it hurts in little ways I can't explain. I've never been the best person to explain things, but I'm perfectly fine in my head.

Maybe I'm in my head too much... I know my heart is in the right place and I'm allowed to think about Dad, but again, it hurts.

  Maybe I should call him. He'd tell me if talking to mom is the right thing, because all I need is a little validation from someone who knows why it's this hard to decide.

  Being judged for something like this doesn't make the pressure any less tight, it makes it worse.

  And sadly, the one person I'd talk to about it only wants to listen to Mom.

  I don't understand on one level, only because she's put him through hell fire, and right back to fairy's and sparkles.

"I'd rather you'd squeeze my hand off than yelp so everyone down the block can hear you." His eyes rolled dramatically, sarcastically pumping his hand into mine three times.

"Hey!" I slipped my hand out of his quickly, scoffing on purpose, causing him to cackle up a storm. "You don't mind when I yelp in bed, do you?"

"Shit, P... you didn't come to play, did you?" Harry's cold metal rings touched my warm hands, but I slipped them away before he could reach them, knowing how those rings already felt near my-

Quit, holy shit.

"Nope, don't fuck with me." I crossed my arms over my chest, looking out of the window, already waiting for an inappropriate comment back.

"I'd love to fuck you, actually." He raised his eyebrows, picking his lip with his pointer finger and thumb before returning them to the rest behind my seat.

Fuck, he's so hot.

"How am I supposed to keep up with how horny you are all the time? Do you snort viagra when I'm not near?" I looked him dead in the eyes, my question somewhat actually curious because I don't know what he does behind closed doors.

It would make sense, I mean... I can already see his imprint through the black trousers he decided to wear.

"You don't get to talk, you know you like being my little brat, yeah?" He smiled to himself, I know he was proud of himself for that one.