redemption: harry styles

Chapter Nine

READERS! You are most likely confused on this part. The author originally wrote about Evelyn trying to escape through the window, and Harry catching her. But she edited this part, and excluded this. So for you all that are confused, Evelyn tried to escape through the window but Harry caught her.

"Harry." I said through clenched teeth as I tired to prod him away. He dug his nails into my skin, making me gasp. I squeezed my eyes closed when he grabbed both of my wrists in one of his hands and pinned them to my back. I craned my neck to see his face, but he jerked his shoulder with mine so I could stay on the wall. "Stop." I pleaded weakly. My voice was a quiet, shaky one. It sounded as if I choked it out painfully. "P-please."

Harry shook his head behind me and lowered his head onto the crook of my neck, biting my collarbone playfully. I didn't play along. I didn't respond--just, attempted to free myself.

I swallowed the shock at his expression.

"Is that how bad you hate me?" I barely caught a whisper that left his soft lips. I pressed my lips together and fumbled around. Harry finally moved back. "Do you really dread this place?"

I blinked at him, surprised. And then, the bastard smiled and grabbed my arm again.

"This is your very last warning." He smiled. "If you even try to leave, I will find you. I will hurt you. Don't make me kill you. Got that?"

"Fuck you!" I cursed. I barely swear--hardly. But when I do, it's either because I'm beyond pissed, angry, hurt, desperate or annoyed. "You bruised my arm!"

"Told you we were stronger." Harry shrugged. "You really thought I lost myself there, eh?"

"Well, someone as cruel as you--" I motioned to him, "--could beat any innocent human up whenever they please."

Harry snorted. "You were right about the innocent part of that sentence. You can't even defend yourself."

I gaped at him and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not innocent, I've seen people kiss."

Harry smiled with wide eyes. His dimples were exposed once more. Those dimples are killing me.

"You were...joking right?" He questioned and I rolled my eyes.

"You are so gullible." I huffed and looked down at myself. "My arm hurts..."

It was if something snapped in him, and as if he hadn't heard me before, as he grabbed my wrist gently and rolled up the small sleeve of the tee shirt I was wearing--that happened to be Harry's--to see the small marks he left.

It wasn't a massive deal. There were white lines where Harry's fingers had been and the skin around it was red, but it hurt like a bitch.

"Oh." Harry muttered and it seemed the darkness in those beautiful green eyes I adore had slowly faded. His eyes were soft and his bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. "I'll, um, check the bathroom." He held my hand preciously and firmly led me out of the room. "M-maybe I'll have some tape, or alcohol in the drawers."

Harry brought me into the familiar bathroom I showered in and he shakily opened a drawer, cursing under his breath. "Or--just some bandages." He tugged on his curly hair with his big hands and scrunched up his nose in frustration. I watched in amusement, with a straight face but wide eyes and parted lips. "Harry, do you--" I began, but he interrupted me.

"I know what I'm doing, Evelyn!" He protested without looking at me. After opening the other drawers and fumbling through them he drew out a sharp breath.

"Harry." I said sternly, but he chose to ignore me.

"No, I do not know. Oh my God, do you know what to do?" He looked at me desperately but shook his head and glared at the ground. "Don't push her, Harold." He growled at himself and clenched his hands.