INDECENT 》Harry Styles #Wattys2018

》Chapter Nine.

Edited by: _rose

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I've been locked up in this place for God knows how long, I am tempted to crush the entire room as a protest for what he has done to me and for how poorly he treated me, but the words I've said to him are still floating in my mind making my stomach aching for the shame and guiltiness. I shouldn't have said that. I'm not like him, I don't mortify people that way, mostly because I have a heart and a conscience.

This warehouse looks like the hut of a woodsman and it's so hard to imagine Harry actually living in a place like this or even visiting it randomly. I wonder how much time does he spend here. I fall on the couch and close my eyes, too tired to care about lowering my guard or thinking about what Harry could do to me if he finds me defenceless; so I decide to take a nap.

I must have closed my eyes for like two seconds before I hear a dog barking in the distance and I cringe. Roy strolls towards me and crawls at my feet, resting his head on the couch next to my legs. I rub my eyes with my fists and try to wake up properly. The light is on and probably it's already dawn. I wonder if Louis is looking out for me, he must be right?

I push myself up however my legs are hit by an unbearable pain and my attempt falls short as I land on my ass again.

Roy barks and I roll my eyes.

'' Roy!'' Harry yells almost alarmed and the dog instantly steps back. He sits on the table right in front of me and places something behind him before bending down and catching my leg in between his hands.

'' What the hell-'' He swiftly lifts my skirt and makes his way up under my clothes like an expert who knows exactly where to touch and I startle, for a moment hypnotised by his gentle touch. As he moves forward up on my skin, I wake up out of the blue and press my palms down to my knees so that I won't show any private part.

'' You pervert!'' I kick his grip with my foot and whine when he tightens it around my already sore skin. I bite hard at my lip for not letting the pain win over me, but his strong touch doesn't let go of my foot and I am so swollen, I'm starting to see black dots.

He rips the sock apart, uncovering my bitten spot and moves his hand behind him blandly searching for something. He retrieves a white swab and, blocking my ankle with his knees, he pours peroxide on it before starting to clean all around my wound with more gentleness than I ever expected him to use. I look at him astonished as he expertly drives the cotton thing over the sore area with extra care, as if he doesn't want to cause me any more pain.

He changes the swab with a new one and continues his job, his eyes never meeting mine. He disinfects my arms, bandages my foot and fingers and then concentrate on my strained cheeks. I let him move around me, too shocked to say or even think about anything. When the peroxide gets in contact with my cheek though, I let a moan escape my lips and I try to back away, but his thumb caresses my cheekbone and I totally petrify as our gazes lock. He's close, so close I can smell his minty breath fanning over my face.

He looks up at my forehead and dare to brush a strand of hair off of it. I automatically snap my hand around his wrist, shaking so much I think the couch under me is moving too.

How deep a cut can be to sting this much? Or perhaps is just infected.

I keep trying to back away from his touch and as a reflex to my movement, he catches two fingers of my hand with his thumb and traps them there. I stop running and once again, glare at him completely surprised. This kind of gesture is totally not matching with the way he acts or speaks to me. He's always harsh, always angry and snapping at me.

He seems so not himself as he takes care of me, so calm while his green eyes travel on my face examining every inch of my imperfections as he is afraid of missing something.

The pain is getting to me so bad that my nails pierce his skin as I hold him and I sense him squeezing my hand back with as much strength.

'' I almost done..'' he whispers tenderly and I flush for showing my weakness to him but i can't do much about it.

'' Better?'' I slowly nod and he lowers his gaze to search something into the first aid kit, coming back with two different patch soon after.

'' There's a Spider-Man or Hulk one. Which one?'' I long study him, his green eyes, his soft expression as he even smiles shyly at me, and I feel so confused, my head seems to be spinning, lighter than usual.

'' Why are you kind to me all of a sudden?'' I find myself asking, gaining a sharp puff before avoiding me again.

'' Did I do something that made you change your mind?'' He stays silent, his eyes travelling far away as he stands and gathers all the things he has taken out to heal my scratches.

He glances up quickly before disappearing into the bathroom and I catch it, right there: his guiltiness, his mistakes, his...emotions. Unexpectedly I see the part he always keeps hidden behind so many layers of anger and emptiness. I see humanity and kindness but also guiltiness and an insane desire of self-destruction, alimented by a kind of pain that can't be just erased from him. I wonder who hurt him this bad. Then again this could just be a play my mind is creating and perhaps Harry is totally fine with being heartless and maybe he's not even hurt.

I bite my lower lip and focus my energies on him. I watch as he narrows his eyes at me, then he fists his hands freezing my blood instantly.

'' Don't'' he blurts out moving a hand forward and I try hard not to jump back from how much frightened I am.

'' Uh?'' I force myself to mumble and squeeze the uniform to my chest. What have I done now? I have barely moved, what if he's mental?

'' Don't look at me like that!'' He warns me, pointing at my face, and I knit my eyebrows, tilting my head back in confusion.

I am almost sure my expression is pretty much the same when he's around, since I'm always scared of him.

'' Like what?''

'' Like you feel bad for me. As if someone like you could ever pity someone like me. So stop it.''

'' I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not pitying you, that's insane.'' It must be hard for him to understand I just want to help; I intend no harm.

''You're doing it again!'' He screams to prove his point and I close my mouth, startled by his poor manner. What is he talking about? I don't sympathize him, I'm just worried because he looks so lonely and sad, I want to help him.

''Harry, I swear I'm not-'' He steps closer, his body bumps into mine and I stroll back, terrified. Just a moment ago, he was taking care of my wounds, comforting me through the pain and now he's again the cause behind my misfortunes. Why is he so stubborn and bipolar?

''I don't need your compassion, little Miss Nobody. I have everything, everything! I'm not a little broken boy who is so desperate to find you interesting. What are you even thinking, uh?'' His fingers sneak around my cheeks and he cups my face bringing it to his harshly, just to have a look closer.

''You think that, just because I showed you a little bit of mercy, I would want something in return? That acting benevolent with you makes us even? You thought I was weak so you could strike and offer your miserable body to me and perhaps even threatening me after? Is this what this is about, isn't it? You have a crush on me?'' His face lights up with understanding.

''You got a crush on me, that's it. That's why you're always around me.'' He laughs and I hear myself falling apart and getting hurt, my pride being torn into pieces, my breath being knocked out from my lungs.

The way he's mocking me so heartlessly is destroying every bit of respect I have for him and I can't stand it any longer.

'' Oh, girl. How can you think, even for a moment, that I could ever feel the same for you? We're too different, you're just not my type. No offence, you are... like okay, but hell no. I couldn't be able to show my face around with you next to me. Everyone would be-'' Something escapes my lips, followed by another weird noise. I hear it sharp and clear cutting the air, shutting everything up, even Harry.

God, what have I done? 

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