Mention of sexual assault, but Cleo was not raped. It will only be mentioned.
Harry Styles
I was looking into my mother's eyes and it was still hard to convince my brain she was actually alive.
This felt like a really weird dream, after all these years thinking she was dead and mourning her death, the fact she was living and breathing just triggered so many feelings I wished to keep buried.
But I didn't have a panic attack... she was in my car, parked a block away from the hotel so we could talk and I made sure we were right under a lamppost. The sky wasn't too dark but I couldn't risk it, being around her made me vulnerable enough as it is.
Maybe I didn't panic this time because my anger was much stronger than anything else. She had the audacity to fucking text me... now let's see if she could handle me.
And here she was.
I drove very quickly after I texted Zayn and asked him to go check on Cleo for me and go stay with her, because it was the only way I had some peace of mind. Turns out I couldn't leave her alone and now I could relax a little
knowing she'd be with him.
I couldn't stop thinking about her and I was so fucking stressed, I trusted Zayn with this but I wanted to go back to the penthouse. I didn't know I'd feel this much anxiety and worry, I could barely focus on my mother at the moment.
But I had to, I had no idea when I'd have the guts to face her like this again.
She was in front of me and alive.
I was strong enough to do this, I deserved to know the fucking truth. I was so done letting her control my mind, this innocent look on her face didn't fucking fool me.
The last time I saw her, I showed her weakness... not anymore. I'd ignore how fast my heart was beating and I'd ask her everything I had the right to know. I'd show her I could be strong and that I didn't need her.
After everything she'd done, I hated the small part of myself that felt somewhat happy she was alive.
And she better answer my questions quickly, no matter if Zayn was gonna stay with Cleo or not, I had to go back as soon as possible. And I honestly couldn't handle it if my mother kept looking at me like this. It was too much.
"I'm surprised you're here." She spoke up. "It's very late."
"I was awake." I deadpanned, noticing her gaze lowered to the dark bruises around my neck. I kinda forgot about them and I was sure she was very fucking confused, but I didn't give a shit. It was none of her fucking business and we weren't here to talk about my damn bruises.
"Are you okay?" She asked me, furrowing her eyebrows, and little did she know the true reason behind the marks on my neck.
She was wearing jeans and a blue sweater, and the dark circles around her eyes gave away that she hadn't slept at all tonight. I hoped she felt like shit, she deserved it.
"No, I'm not okay." I snapped. "You wanted to tell me the fucking truth, go ahead."
"Harry, I'm so sorry-" I interrupted her with my dry laugh, flexing my fingers on the steering wheel before I could do something stupid. Her tone was triggering and I didn't want her to fucking pity me.
"Cut the bullshit. I don't wanna hear it." I glared at her. "Why did you leave me?"
Asking that question itself was enough to make my skin crawl. I knew my abandonment issues were a huge fucking problem and it was a part of me that I truly despised. I was pathetic for this, so fucking ridiculous.
