Therapist [h.s]

chapter ten

(if there is anybody of a Spanish or Italian heritage, I am not Spanish or Italian, I am born in Australia with a background of Macedonian and Croatian, so please correct me if google translate is wrong.) Enjoy!

Isabel

Harry glanced at me again before pushing the blue haired guy over. "You know nothing, Alex, go home."

Harry walked quickly over to me and ignored the glare, 'Alex', had given him. I didn't even know the guy... but he knew me?

"Please, tell me you don't believe it." I whispered to him, my head bobbing down.

"No, of course not, he's just drunk and even sober, he's stupid," Harry explained, hands out in front of him. I grabbed them and put them on my waist.

He looked shocked. "Are you okay, Isabel?"

I just wanted him to like me. He always called me beautiful, he is the one that is truly beautiful. I wanted us to be friends or possibly... lovers.

"Can I have a hug?" I asked, my arms already moving to surround him. He was warm and smelt like a mixture of peppermint, mint and washing detergent. He was tall and I was short so the strong curves of his arms fit perfectly around my waist. My face buried itself in the crook of his shoulder, I  inhaled and exhaled. His chin and jawline were pointy and dug into my hair, it even hurt a little but I was too indulged in him.

I wish he could kiss me, but that would be inappropriate... for him. I looked up at his face and he looked down at mine. His lips were so pink and luscious, plump and had a nice heart shape to them. I snapped out of it as he pushed my arms away and put his hand on the middle of my back.

"Don't think. Calm down. I will always believe you, Isabel." He strokes my fringe and tucks it into my ear. "You should come to therapy on Monday, just this once, I need to ask a few more questions."

"I really think I go enough as it is." He nods in understanding and still grins at me.

I turned around quickly to walk downstairs but accidentally bumped into somebody. "Sorry." I apologised, dusting off my dress.

"No, beautiful, you shouldn't be." A rugged looking man that seemed to be over thirty with black hair and blue eyes stared at me.

"Um, o-"

"Go away, fucker." Harry interrupts. He gently grabs my arm and glares at the man.

"How about... I take you home?" He insists. Dark green eyes filtered with worry and confusion.

"No, I don't want to ruin your night, I'm just going to call Killy," I muttered, pushing through my purse to capture my phone.

"No, don't be silly," Harry exclaimed. We started walking downstairs towards his car before a beautiful brunette stepped out of the shadows from nowhere.

"Styles? Harry Motherfucking Styles?" The woman practically yelled. A loud voice for the leggy brunette.

"Andre? W-wow..." Andre wrapped her arms excitedly around Harry and I was forced to be pushed away. I looked at their embrace and felt anger fill my mind. I was supposed to be his patient and the person he looked after.

I couldn't stand there any longer because I didn't want to intrude. I sat down on the closest bench.

"Hey, Chica." A middle-aged woman with messed up brunette hair was standing before me.

"Hi." I responded quietly, the loud woman was intimidating... Don't judge, she literally screamed 'hey' in my ear.

"You look very lonely," She was foreign, I could tell because she could barely pronounce the words she was telling me. "I can change that."