D e m o n s .| Harry Styles AU (Book one: Complete!)

Touch Me x

Stella's POV

"Yeah and after that I took him to the hospital. He couldn't walk, or sit for that matter," he says, rubbing his jaw. He's been avoiding eye contact with me throughout this entire conversation and I completely understand why. This is so fucked up. "I nearly broke his pelvis in half," he says plainly.

I lie there for a moment, looking at his lips. I can honestly say that I am astonished by this story. Not only that but Harry gave himself a haircut when he finished his shower. Not quite a drastic change. An inch or two at best. I think for a moment and come up with the theory that the dried blood in his hair had to be cut out. I would rather not question it. He's already a bit flustered right now, angry even. Questioning him about that might make it worse.

I continue to look at his lips as we talk to one another. "But why are they so angry with you about this? Zayn brought it onto himself and Louis.." I say and then pause for a second. "You didn't mean to," I say. I look up into his eyes and await his answer.

Or at least I hope he didn't mean to.

His face grimaces for a split second, almost as if what I said was completely idiotic and just plain stupid. Almost as if he were speaking to a child. "When I broke his pelvis I ruined his football career," he says. "I didn't apologize because that slut would have wanted my dick even if he knew I was going to do that to him. He was sleeping around while we were dating," he says I can hear the anger growing in his voice.

"Daddy.." I say as I slowly scoot away from him.

He quickly reaches over to me and grabs my bare waist. "And of course with that he ran back to Zayn," he says angrily. He's nearly yelling at this point, his voice is so big and powerful it shakes my chest. He pulls me back over to him and I can feel his pulse from his hand. It's through the roof. "He fucking got what he deserved," he says through gritted teeth. His grip is only tightening more.

I feel the tears begin to rise in my eyes. My body tenses and I bring my hands to my face for protection. "Please don't," I say. My voice cracks and warm tears spill onto my cheeks. All I can hear is my heart beat in my ears. I close my eyes and wait for him to release his anger on me.

His hard grip softens and I hear his muffled words through my pulse beating on my ear drums. I flinch at the feeling of his touch on my face, thinking it was a slap with delayed pain. I sit for a moment only to realize he's stroking my face.

I melt into his touch and relax my muscles into the bed. I open my eyes lazily, my eyelashes sticking together due to the tears.

He looks at me for nearly 5 minutes, saying nothing at all. He is gently stroking my face and hair with the occasional deep breath coming from his lips, blowing the stale warm air onto my face. He's waiting for me to calm down before saying anything else to me.

He parts his lips to speak but pauses. "Who," he says just above a whisper and pauses for a moment. He inspects my face for a little while before speaking again. "Who did this to you," he whispers to himself, more as a statement rather than a question. "Why are you so afraid of me?" he whispers softly as he cups my jaw. He looks into my eyes and I realize the question is actually directed towards me.

"I.. I," I say, my words failing to come out. He thumbs my lip.

"Take your time, we don't have to talk about it right now if you're not comfortable with it," he says.

I shake my head softly and bring my hand up to wrap it around his large forearm, signaling I want to speak. He removes his thumb and waits for me to begin speaking.

"I lived with my dad growing up," I say and I take a deep breath. I feel like tears are about to invade my eyes again so I stop for a moment. "My parents divorced when I was very young and I lived with my mom to age 9. There was a custody battle and my dad won because he had more money, my mom couldn't really afford me," I say quietly.