D A M A G E D • HS

46

TW: Mentions of violence,
drugs, and description
of smoking

ARLO P.O.V

He called me baby. He said it so effortlessly, as if he had been saying it to me for the whole of the time we've known each other.

It's stupid how a pet name like that could make my heart beat so hard in my chest, and make my hands go clammy. There's something about it, and the way he said it that felt so special, and intimate.

It's different from when he calls me lovebug. Yes, that's also a pet name, but sometimes it feels like another nickname, but the glint in his eyes when he called me baby felt so raw, and meaningful.

It's as if we took another leap forward in our relationship, or whatever we are in. It really solidified that we both equally like each other, and neither of us plan on leaving any time soon.

Just sitting here, in the room I just got railed in, thinking about him calling me baby brings a sickening smile to my face.

Fuck you Harry Styles

I pick at the ends of my shorts, reminiscing over all that just occurred. From sneaking him down here, to giving him his birthday presents, to the intense sex.

Even though the sex was mind blowing, it's not the main cause of the glee that is so full inside my chest. It's the fact that he likes all of the presents I got him.

I was most nervous about the necklace. There's so much meaning behind it, and the insinuation I was making about why I was giving it to him, worried me that I would scare him off.

Somehow, by the miracle of the universe, it did the opposite. I could see the look in his eye when he saw the necklace. It was full of emotion, and endearment. 

Everyday, my connection to Harry just grows stronger, and stronger. It's an unstoppable force that I don't believe will ever stop flourishing.

It makes me feel so alive, and happy, but it also scares me because of the life I've kept from him. The details of the dark truth still lie deep within the depth of memories, locked in its cage.

There are some things I'm keeping from him for his own safety, but there are other things that I'm keeping for my own. It's a recurring fear that once I let my truth go, he'll never want anything to do with me ever again, and see me as someone who is disgusting.

Why is life so hard

I shake the thoughts out of my head. I refuse to let myself slip. I don't know how long I've been down here. I know it's been a little while because I could not physically use my legs without feeling like I was going to topple over at any given moment.

He really fucked me good, but fuck, I would do that all over again, especially just to hear him call me baby.

I finally manage to stand up from the edge of the bed. I made sure to clean myself up earlier, fixing everything that was out of place, so the evidence of sex is faint, and hardly noticeable.

Or at least I hope.

I grab Harry's presents, which are still in the room, and take them with me as I exit the small room. I turn to lock the door, and jiggle the lock to ensure that it is in fact secure.