Cross My Heart // Harry Styles

12

GWEN'S POV:

That morning I couldn't get myself to move. Everyone got out of bed, but I just couldn't. I was still hurt, heart broken, and now I didn't have anything to live for any more. Why get up? I'd just lay here till the boss beat me to death.

At least Harry would be the last man I'd had s.ex with in my life. And at least I'd liked it for my final time.

At least I'd met Harry, as much as this hurts now...at least I had just a few days of something GOOD in my miserable life.

I smiled when I thought of that.

And I frowned when Spanish (that's what they called the Spanish girl. They wanted to call her brownie, but that was taken by me and my brown hair. And I was here first, so they didn't change things.) lifted my hands and tried to pull me out of bed.

"I can't. I can't", I kept telling her.

"Are you crazy!?" She whispered. "Get up before you get beat to death!!"

Exactly.

She heard someone coming down the cellar stairs. She dropped my hands and looked at me like I was utterly crazy, and stepped back from me, looking nervous.

When the boss didn't notice her, she gave one last look at me, mouthing "come on!!" And rushed into the bathroom.

I stayed in bed.

This would be the last few minutes of my life. And I was excited about it. More excited than I'd ever been. When you have nothing to lose by dying, it's one thing. But when you HAD something and it's gone, dying is way more wanted and welcomed than just dying for nothing.

Dying would now absolutely make me truly happy. And I welcomed every hit, kick, and punch the boss would give me. I just hoped it'd be enough. If it wasn't, I'd have to talk out of turn to him, so he'd finish the job. Insult him. Yes. I'll do that.

No matter what, I WILL die today.

The boss chose whichever girl he wanted to give him his almost daily morning bl.ow job, and he sat on her cot. That was the sign. Whose ever cot he sat on, had to please him in the morning. Most of the time it was a bl.ow job. Sometimes he decided he wanted to fvck, or as.s fvck or have just a good old hand job. Everyone had to go about their business in the shower and getting ready for kitchen duty, while he did his thing right there in the open cellar full of cots. We all tried to avoid that area, and crowd into the bathroom, so he wouldn't get any kin.ky ideas, like telling another girl to join them. Just more reason to give up and be done with it, once and for all, I thought.

So today he chose Blackie. Blackie didn't notice he was sitting on her cot. Asian tapped her on the shoulder to let her know, as she stood in line for the shower.

She rushed over immediately and knealt on the floor in front of the boss and looked up at him, waiting to see how he wanted it today.

This was taking forever. The longer I layed here waiting to die, which would be very, very painful, I knew, the more scared I was getting.

Just get it done. Just go through it and get it done, then it'll be all over, I repeated in my head.

The boss started undoing his jeans, and he stood up to pull them down, when he happened to notice me laying in my cot still.

I looked away and stared at the ceiling.

Here we go.

Oh my God, I was so scared.

I started thinking of Harry. I figured I'd better picture him and try and remember the good things about him that made my life worth living another day a few times. Good things like his unruly dark hair, his tight, tattoo'd skin. His beautiful laugh. The odd shade of his green eyes that seemed to change color with his moods. His soothing voice when he'd hum to me. His safe, secure, loving hugs. His scent, not only of his cologne, but of his own body. It was wonderful, and I loved to breathe it in when he hugged me. I thought of his gentle kindness. The sparks he gave me throughout my entire body when he touched me, whether it was an innocent touch, or whether he was fvcking the sh.it out of me.