Strings Attached (Harry Styles FanFiction)

22. Hello, My Name Is...

(Picture of Adrien in the sidebar!!!!)

Cassie’s POV:

 **Two Weeks Later**

“Jesus Christ,” I gasped, flexing all of the joints in my right hand, the pink cast lying open a few feet away.

“How does it feel?” The doctor asked, taking my hand into his, rolling my wrist around, checking to ensure that all of the bones had set properly.

“Perfect,” I exclaimed, refusing to allow any doubt that the healing process hadn’t been completed. I couldn’t last another couple weeks; three had been enough. I hated feeling like I was depending on Harry and Gwen for every little thing. I felt like a child, always waiting for someone bigger and stronger to help me. They claimed that they didn’t mind but they were just being nice, humoring the cripple.

“No aching or stinging in the joints? There was quite a bit of damage. We have to be sure that everything has healed properly.”

“No really, it’s fine, I promise.”

“Should we do an x-ray, just to be sure?” Harry prompted, his eyes assessing my every motion. 

I glared at him, ready to be out of here before they trapped me in another plaster prison. The doctor nodded, backing out of the room.

“You just can’t leave it alone, can you?” I grumbled, picking at the hem of my shirt, testing the stiff muscles in my right hand.

“Nope,” He grinned, popping the ‘P’, taking my small hand into his, massaging the muscles.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Obviously,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"You're such a jerk," I murmured, watching him as the edges of his mouth twitched up into a cheeky grin. He ignored me, still working the knots out of my hand.

I wanted to pull away but at the same time it was a free massage, free was free and damn was he good with his hands... 

He smirked at me, those jade eyes seeing directly into my soul. I blushed, ashamed that he knew exactly what I was thinking. 

His touch began to travel up my arm, strong thumbs rubbing soothing circles into my skin. I bit down on my lip, refusing to give in to him. When he got to my shoulder, he stepped forward, pushing the sleeve of my jacket down my arm. What the hell was he thinking? We were in a fucking hospital. The doctor could come back at any second. 

“Stop that,” I hissed, swatting his hands away. He grinned down at me, that stupid fox smile curling his lips. My heart faltered as I stared up at him, jade eyes piercing into me.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” I breathed, digging my nails into my palms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. 

“How would I get us in trouble? It’s just a massage, Angel,” he teased, pulling his curls back away from his forehead.

I rolled my eyes, “You know how.”

“Do I?” Before I could respond, the doctor returned, ushering us away to the radiology lab. An hour later, we were allowed to leave, my wrist given a clean bill of health. 

Harry’s arm curled around my waist as we left the medical buildings, long fingers inching up beneath the fabric of my sweatshirt. My skin tingled with electricity as he rubbed figure-eights into my hip. I glared at him.

“You’re such a tease,” I grumbled, crossing my arms across my chest. He chuckled, moving in front of me to open the passenger door to his Range Rover.