Trust Me (A Harry Styles Fan-Fic)

Chapter 47

Bethany's POV

"Harry, come on!" I yell as I walk quickly down the street.

He was at least three hundred feet behind me, and he was walking like a slow poke. Apparently even after his 12 hours of sleep, plus another four hours of just laying in bed, he was still too tired.

We had sat in bed, talking over what to do all day when he suggested we went out and got tattoos. He thought it'd be nice to just chill and do stuff that didn't require much movement, yet the idiot didn't want to drive, and he forced us to walk. He made the appointments for 3, but we left the house at 2:50, and it was at least a 15 minute walk from his flat.

"I'm coming." He says grumpily and then whispers in my ear, "You have to stop screaming my name because people are starting to look."

"HARR-" I start, but he quickly covers my mouth with his hand.

"Bethany, you and I both know you don't want to do that." He glares and I lick his hand.

"Oh lighten up." I smack his chest and start my strut down the street again. This time, I grab his hand and pull him along with me.

Step after step, I hear him huff out more and more air. He really had woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

"What has you in such a grumpy mood?" I try to lighten the tone with my vocabulary, but I don't think anything is going to make him happy.

"I told you I'm tired."

"You had at least 12 hours sleep last night." I remind him, but he shakes his head.

"No, you did. I couldn't sleep. Haven't been able to for the past few days."

"Any particular reason why?"

"No." He says shortly, and I frown.

"Harry-"

"Drop it." He says sternly, and this time I decide to keep my mouth shut. Whatever he's been talking to Liam about is starting to get to me too, and I don't even know what it is.

We finish the last five minutes of our walk in silence, but he doesn't let go of my hand. Sometimes he'll give it a tight squeeze, but I can't find it in me to squeeze his back. Sometimes he could just be so controlling over every situation and it felt like Chase all over again. That was one thing I couldn't stand about their personalities. Both of them were so self righteous, they could never be wrong and nothing could not go their way. They would have a hissy fit if anything didn't go to the plan they wanted to stick to.

I was upset, there was no doubting that, but his hand still kept my body warm all over. The cold winter air of London was horrible, and much worse than New York City. It was windy, and it was wet too. My hand was wrapped in warm leather gloves and my body was surrounded by my coat I had thankfully kept with me since I left LA. I really had warn it everywhere, and thank God Leighton and I had packed it.

"We're here." He says cautiously as I eye the tattoo shop.

It looked like a whole in the wall. It was down some tiny ally in the middle of downtown London. The exterior made it look run down and warn out. It wasn't a very welcoming looking place, but then again, was any tattoo parlor a welcoming place?

"Hi and welcome to Ronald's." I hear as soon as Harry and I walk through the door.

I look up at the girl dressed in mostly black. She was definitely pulling the grunge kind of look, but she could really pull it off. Her hair was jet black, along with every single article of clothing she was wearing except her white top. Her bottom lip was pierced, along with her entire right ear, and her left nostril. Every ounce of her body that was showing was completely covered in tattoos. She reminded me of a walking sketch pad.