Leader Of The Mafia {h.s}

76

Bree Tyler

"Why do you do that, Harry?" I asked, as he burnt another cigarette in his skin that I gently smoothed my hand over.

"Because," he gritted. "It feels good."

I was fed up with this. There is definitely more of a reason to why he burnt himself with ignited cigarettes and he wasn't telling me. He should trust me, right?

"Harry.." I bit my lip, "there has to be a reason." I blew smoke from the corner of my lips.

"You had it easy, you had no father but I had an abusive one." He admitted, making me pull back from him in an instant.

"Easy?" I questioned, making his eyes drop and roll his lips in his mouth like he didn't mean what he said.

"I didn't mean it in that way Bree, it wasn't meant to come out like that." He tried to get me to forgive him, his words just hurt my heart a little.

Words hurt, Harry.

"Do you know what I've fucking been through?" My eyes started to gather tears, easy. "My mother couldn't get a fucking job, and my father didn't even help her. He just left! I couldn't eat for three weeks as a KID, and I had to wear the same clothes every single day!! A butterfly shirt, bootcut jeans, and white sneakers. I was only in kindergarten. So no Harry, it wasn't easy. Yeah, you may have had it hard but don't push my problems down just because yours could've possibly been worse." I was enraged right now, my life wasn't easy, and I know his wasn't either.

"Bree I didn't mean it, our lives were both complicated as kids and I understand that. Your life was hard growing up too." He softly grabbed my cheeks, making me sigh.

"What did your father do to you as a kid?" I asked, making him pout his bottom lip out like he didn't want to reply. But he was in deep, I spilled my whole childhood out because of him and I was deeply embarrassed.

"He was a fucking prick." He shook his head in sorrow, "fucking hurt my mother. Burnt cigarettes against my fucking already scratched and bruised skin. Aimed guns at me and my big sister, Lea." He admitted in despair. "May I?" He furrowed his brows, slightly taking the cigarette out of my fingers.

"I think you need it  more than I do right now." I swallowed, letting him take the cigarette to calm him down while he revealed his childhood trauma to me.

"Thank you." He snarled, taking the lit cigarette between his lips and inhaling with a short exhale from the smoke before he continued tragedy.

"My father, oh that little bitch. He threw me into freezing ass glass showers, forced me to watch Scream, he had a weird obsession with the that masked character. He hung up pictures of him all over the house, it was like his role mod-"

"The CD's." I muttered, not even realized I said it out loud instead of just thinking it inside my head.

"The CD's?" Harry furrowed his brows, like he didn't know what I was talking about.

"In that room, the creepy one where you keep all those Scream masks. There's Scream CD's too." I muttered.

"And I have them because my father forced me to watch the show." He swallowed. "I was too young to see something graphic like that. I was only five years old and that's what our family movie was, I don't know why he made me watch it though. I didn't do anything to him." He sighed, making me pout my bottom lip out in sympathy for him. I've never been mentally tortured, but I have been physically. Harry's been through both, so in a way I know what he needs.