Damaged Goods. (A Harry Styles Fanic)

Chapter Fourteen

After a couple of days Harry really began to question how he physically reacted towards Lola. Not once before had he had second thoughts or even regrets about anything to do with Lola. But it seemed different this time. Lola really seemed horrified by his outlash at her, and Harry even was himself.

He thought Lola would never have the ability to make him angry like that. But with one word about his private life, she over stepped the line. He hated how she thought she could just stick her nose in, as if it’s her business now because they both live in John’s house. She would never be part of his family. In Harry’s eyes, his family was him, his mum and stepdad and Gemma. Lola was nothing to do with it. Of course Harry considered his Dad a separate part of family, but Lola was nothing like that to him.

The good outcome was that Lola was more fearful of him than ever. She never looked him directly in the eye anymore unless he told her too when he spoke to her, she was just scared that he was going to hurt her again. Harry savoured the delicious feeling of control over her, the power he had with the simple flick of a finger.

He knew Lola wouldn’t try and pull that move again, trying to be cocky and get the better of him. She could never do that. He hated witnessing her step out of her comfort zone and attempt to be confident, squaring up to him as if she knew everything. He wanted her shy, scared and obedient; his wishes were almost that she acted in a robotic way to please him. That’s how he liked it and was going to make sure it stayed that way.

**

A week or so later, things in Harry’s other household weren’t so good, like a dark grey cloud was hanging over the family. Andy had taken a bad turn, and Harry had stayed up with his Mum most of the night helping her take care of him. She told him to go to bed, since he had school the next day. But Harry refused, knowing he wouldn’t catch a wink of sleep knowing his stepdad was suffering a few metres away.

Andy always put on a brave and cheerful face but Harry could see that he longed for the old life he used to have. Actively taking part in sports with Harry, taking him and Gemma on trips out to the zoo, cinema and museums. He even coached Harry’s primary school football team for a year. Harry missed those times painfully, remembering at age eleven how clueless he was to what was going to happen to their family. How such a devestating illness was going to find them and tear their happy family life apart.

Harry watched as his Mum took a glass of cold water, helping Andy drink from it, his bony hands shaking and pale face screwing up in discomfort.

All Harry could do was stand aside, gulping down the sore lump forming in his throat as he watched his stepdad battle with his own body. Harry’s fingers trembled as he subconciously rose them to his mouth, nibbling in his nails until they were sore.

“Harry, go to bed darling” Anne said softly at 3am, giving her worried son a sympathetic look.

“I..I” Harry cleared his throat “I don’t want to leave you on your own”

Anne cocked her head at him, telling him she’ll be fine and he should get some sleep. Harry sloped off upstairs, pulling his t-shirt over his head and falling backwards onto his mattress. As he turned off the light, he stared blankly at the plain ceiling above, wishing for the same thing he did every night.

***

Harrys shoes scuffed lazily against the pavement as he walked to school the next morning, head hanging down and hands shoved in his pockets. He stopped at the traffic lights and looked around, eyebrows furrowing together. Year 11 girls in their uniform were giggling and crossing the road, skipping towards the school gates. Harry was absolutely knackered and was in no mood for education today. Or any other day.

“Fuck it” he muttered to himself and took a deroute, heading in the opposite direction that he should be.

He got about one hour sleep at maximum last night, and his aching head felt like it weighed a ton. Every time he drifted off to sleep, he’d hear a raspy cough from downstairs where Andy was laying in pain. He could hear the soothing sound of his Mothers voice, taking care of her ill husband and it reminded him of when he was a young boy. His Mum would tuck him up in bed when he was poorly and read him a story, gently stroking back his baby curls and helping him fall asleep. 

Harry rolled over onto his side in the darkness of his room, feeling his eyelids begin to sting slightly. A warm tear rolled out across his temple and onto his pillow. He sniffed, breathing through his damp puffy lips as his nose was partially blocked. He pulled the covers up over his body and rest his cheek on the damp pillow, trying desperately to escape into the unconcious where he could forget for a little bit. The fairly fresh marks on his inner wrist were aching as he pressed the pad of thumb into them, rubbing them habituously.

So this morning he saw it as reasonable to bunk off school and decided to go to his Dad’s house instead. It was study leave after all, and he wasn’t due to be in school the whole day.

Lola was coincidently not due to be in school this morning and sat curled up on the sofa with her English revision. She heard the door open and rose her eyebrow curiously, wondering who would be coming in at this time. Her stomach flipped furiously with nerves when she saw Harry walk into the room, collapsing lazily onto the sofa.

He pulled his iPhone out without even acknowledging her, and began tapping away. She was suprised that he didn’t tell her to fuck off, or threaten to tell her Mum that she was bunking school even though she wasn’t.

Lola couldn’t help but notice how exhausted Harry looked. His green eyes were puffy with dark circles beneath them, indicating that he’d slept badly last night. His lips were dark pink and swollen looking, his curls dishevelled and blemishes covering his pale skin.

She didn’t want to ask what he was doing home, after the attack she’d recieved last week, she didn’t want to say anything to him. Harry tucked his phone away and glanced at Lola, his facial expression and slouched posture not changing at all.

Harry noticed how hesitant Lola looked as she nervously avoided eye contact with him. He felt far too weak to annoy, bully or irritate her today. His mind was elsewhere, not interested in associating with anyone let alone Lola.

“I was up most of the night okay? That’s why i’m not at school” he stated, knowing what she was thinking

Lola nodded slowly, feeling to awkward and uncomfortable to go back to her work while still in the presence of Harry. She remained quiet as he stayed slouched back on the other end of the sofa, staring blankly at This Morning playing on the TV. She swore he didn’t blink once, he was completely zoned out, in another world.

“Harry”

He blinked twice and turned his head to her, dropping his eyes down her. She was wearing her school skirt with a floral patterned top, her blonde hair pulled back into a loose bun.

Lola looked back at Harry’s clothes, black trousers and white polo shirt. She noticed how tanned the skin of his arms looked, expecting to see his wrist wrapped in a bunch of bands. But they weren’t there today. His wrists were bare, naked, just skin. Damaged skin.

She tried not to be obvious as she narrowed her eyes to see the delicate region of his arm. A couple of red lines peeked out past the white skin that had been untouched by the sun, creeping past the tan line where his wristbands usually are.

Curiosity took over her as she debated whether to ask him or not. Considering what happened when she talked about his stepdad, it would be a mistake. But she didn’t need to brave the question and ask him directly, because Harry already saw her looking.

He didn’t realise he’d forgotten to put his bands on after getting out the shower in the evening. He saw no point in hiding them now, and retaliating. There was no point in shouting at her for being nosey and frankly he was too tired to do anything.

He shut his eyes loosely and glanced from his wrists up to Lola who quickly pretended she was concentrating on her work.

“I know you were looking dumbass” he muttered, his morning voice deep and crackly. He swallowed, his throat sore and frowned at her slightly. Lola paused for a moment,

“C-Can I ask a question?” she stuttered, her body language showing how cautious she was of him and how he could potentially react.

Harry glared at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes in concentration before sighing. He didn’t have the energy. She’d already seen them. He just needed her to keep her mouth shut, which he knew she would do after last week.

“Fine. What?” he replied monotonously

“Well er……how erm..how long have you been…y’know”

“Cutting” Harry finished her sentence bluntly, Lola nodding quickly. Harry took a moment to think over whether he was in the sharpest frame of mind to be doing this. Or whether he should stop now and give her a reason to be quiet. He exhaled heavily and stroked his thumb over the range of old and new scars.

“About eight months” he mumbled.

Lola couldn’t conjure up an image in her head of Harry self harming. Where he would do it, when he would do it, would he do it when he was upset? Or was it a daily ritual? Did something have to trigger it? She knew it was wise not to ask any other questions. Something was obviously wrong today, and she could make an accurate guess about what it was over. She knew from the lesson she learnt last week that she shouldn’t mention his stepdad again, as it ‘isn’t any of her business’. And Harry clearly found it too private and personal to talk about. Maybe that’s why he cut? Because he had no-one to talk to.

Lola remembered the times she locked herself in the bathroom, a sharp razor blade, scissors, even just her fingernails; anything that would work. Anything to distract her from the emotions she was feeling, a physical distraction. The feeling when the urge washes over you again, and you try to fight it, knowing you have to stop before you go too far. The debate between right and wrong.

Lola chewed her lip gently and looked to Harry

“I understand”

Harry squinted and turned his head to her, dark brows almost knitted together in the middle. “No you don’t”

“But I do becau-“

“No, no you fucking don’t. No-one understands!” he rose the volume of his words making Lola jump, the deep rasp and cutting edge to his angry voice running straight through her. It made him seem scarier. Harry sat up straight and gulped harshly, trying to stop his voice from cracking with the lump in his throat. He felt like he’d just broken through one of the barriers he’d put up, a defence mechanism to stop people getting into his feelings.

“You have no idea what it’s like to feel as helpless and shit as I do. You don’t have to cancel on your friends for hospital visits o-or come home from s-school to see your Mum, crying in the kitchen. You don’t have a clue what it took for me to do this” he gestured to the scars on his wrists “So don’t tell me you fucking understand Lola because you have absolutely no idea”

Lola didn’t realise she’d been holding her breath the whole time Harry had ranted. She stayed completely silent, worried that anything she said would cause another outburst or even worse, some kind of injury on her behalf.

The room was still, so quiet she could almost hear Harrys pulse throbbing.

He clenched his jaw and breathed heavily, regretting ever opening his mouth. He never wanted to say anything to anyone about that, let alone Lola. The breaths fanned from his nostrils and he ran his hands frustratedly though his messy curls.

Lola inhaled deeply and shuffled closer to Harry, wanting to prove to him that she actually could relate to him in that way. She tensed her muscles in anticipation, as she waited for him to look at her. He took his hands away from his face and looked down at the girl close next to him, to tell her to leave him alone.

But Lola slowly lifted back the hem of her black school skirt, past the inches of milky skin to her very upper thigh. The material uncovered her red and fading purple scars, embedded into her leg.

Harrys plump lips parted in shock as he saw the fairly deep lines in Lola’s bare thigh. They looked so familiar, resembling cuts he’d created in his own skin before. But never did he imagine Lola did the same thing. Not once had it crossed his mind.

Lola waited for his reaction, his fingers shaking as she held the hem of her skirt up. Harry frowned and observed the sore, worn damage she’d done. There was only so much he could take out on his wrists as a coping mechanism without piercing a vein or something, but Lola’s scars looked much more carelessly slashed into her legs.

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t help feel his skin sting a little at how painful her cuts looked. But what reason did she have to even do that in the first place? It wasn’t as if she was going through was he was.

“W-why…..why did you do that to yourself?” Harry asked, not thinking about his actions as his two fingertips found her thigh and gently ran them across the rough patch of damaged skin. Not to cause her further harm, just to see how it felt to touch.

Lola’s lower lip wobbled slightly and she pushed her hair back “Why did you?”

Harry looked up from her leg to her reflective eyes, giving her a knowing stare and stern voice “You know why Lola”

“Well then…..so do you” she said, her voice cracking as her eyes filled up with tears. She pulled her skirt back down again, pushing Harrys large hand away from her leg. Harry crinkled his features in confusion, not understanding.

“What does that mean?” he questioned “Why do you do it?”

Lola kept her mouth shut, anxiously biting on her lip hard enough to almost draw blood.

“Answer me!” he commanded, gripping one shoulder with one hand and forcing her to look at him properly. Her blue eyes were threatening to overflow from the small puddles of water that had formed in them. He recognised in her the similar feelings he was experiencing moments ago when she confronted him. And now he was doing the same back to her, and it was like looking in the mirror.

Like he’d found some kind of common ground between them, despite the constant conflict bouncing between them and how much he disliked her.

“….It was you” she whispered, her fragile voice barely audible. Lola bought her fingers up to beneath her eyes and wiped away the dampness, seeing watery black stains on her fingerprints. She inhaled shakily and nodded slowly at Harry, feeling somewhat relieved that he now knew

”You made me do this to myself” she said, a poisonous tone to her voice that made Harry.

There were a few seconds of heavy silence as Harry absorped the words she’d just said. He was aware of the fear, pain and anxiety he caused her. It was almost sickeningly nice to feel in control of something, of someone , making them feel the hurt he had been feeling. He always wanted someone to know what he was feeling like since his life at home spiralled downwards; a cry for help.

Lola was the first vulnerable victim he laid eyes on the first day back at school after Andy was diagnosed. The first person that would be susceptible to his teasing and taunting. Another reason was that she seemed to carelessly dismiss him at school before, never acknowledging him properly and he wasn’t used to that. Girls threw themselves on his lap everyday, but she was never interested and he wanted to change it. Just for his reputation.

He needed to release his pent up emotions on someone and it started out on a smaller scale, picking on her, making her feel little and useless. Harry didn’t expect that he’d gain such deep satisfaction from it. Just like with his self harming. That’s when it escalated further, and it had only gotten worse over the year and a half that had passed.

He wanted her to feel how scared he was feeling as he lacked any control back home. Home was where he had no control over what was happening, and couldn’t make it better. But with Lola, he was superior, he had freedom, in control and he thrived from it.

And now he just couldn’t bring himself to stop hurting her. It was almost like an addiction, the method he’d adapted and learnt to deal with everything. He couldn’t change it.

Harry didn’t know what to say. He knew how incredibly low he felt whenever he drove himself to cut his wrists, but he never realised he’d made Lola feel that same level of pain. Bad enough to make her harm her body so vigourously.

Before he could say anything, the door suddenly opened and John entered the room abruptly. He had a slightly angry and helpless look on his face, in a panic.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, trying to readjust from his state of shock only moments ago.

“Christina’s things are gone” John announced

“W-wait, what?” Lola shot up fromthe sofa, giving John a seriously questioning look. “What do you mean her things are gone? She’s at work”

“She left for work early this morning, before I got up. Now she’s rejecting my calls”

“What? Where is she then?!”

“I don’t know but she’s taken the suitcase from the garage, her clothes are gone, everything” he sat down, overwhelmed with confusion and dissappointment.

Lola glanced at Harry who had absolutely nothing to say. He just stood there with a face set like stone and hands shoved in his pockets. It was then that she realised what had happened. She was right from the very start, and no-one believed her. But it had happened, she’d finally done a runner and left John. It was only a matter of time and she should have seen it coming earlier.

“I knew it!” Lola cried “I told you! I fucking told all of you and no-one believed me when I told you what shes like!”

“Calm down Lo-“

“No can’t you see?! She’s been coming home hours late for weeks, having ‘drinks with the girls’, all her things are gone and she’s cheated on people before so I can’t believe I didn’t realise earlier!”

“Stop it alright Lola she’s not like th-“

“Yes she is!” Lola cried “She’s 100% like that! You’re all blind, I knew this would happen”

Lola began to cry, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders shuddered and Harry stood awkwardly, looking to his Dad for what they should do. John pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.

“Now I don’t have anyone” Lola sobbed “She’s run off finally she never wanted me and Jake anyway. And my Dad doesn’t want me either. Now we’ve got n-nothing” she cried harder, struggling to talk through them. Harry watched Lola sob, usually something caused by him but this time was different.

He suddenly felt extremely lucky to still have three parents around that he was cared and loved by, compared to Lola who didn’t really have anyone.

John gave Lola a short hug, letting her cry on his shoulder and Harry hung his head down, not knowing what to do with himself.

“I need to find her” John said

“There’s no point” Lola said, bringing her hands away from her face, makeup running down her cheeks “Let her go. She’s no use to anyone”

John dismissed her comment and let go of Lola, gesturing silently to Harry to take his place and comfort Lola while he went to find Christina. Harry felt a strange wave of sympathy for her but tried to fight it off, distancing himself a few metres away from Lola as she cried alone.

The angel on his shoulder was telling him to use just any ounce of kindness he possessed to comfort her but the devil was telling him to go and leave her on her own.

Leave or stay. Leave or stay. He didn’t know what to do.

Lola gulped and knew Harry was just going to stand and watch her in this state, probably loving every second of it.

“You know what, nothing changes so don’t bother giving me some kind of insult or telling me how shit I look because I know you couldn’t care less” Lola grabbed her bag from the table and headed to the door, pulling it open

Harry didn’t know what happened to him but he lurched forward as she reached the door, grabbing her by the upper arm. Lola feared this was some kind of attack but she couldn’t have been more wrong. He pulled her into his firm chest, completely taking Lola by suprise and making her heart pound even faster.

“Just….shut up for a minute” Harry whispered into her hair as he wrapped his other warm arm around her fragile body. Lola was hesitant and tensed up slightly, but felt Harry’s mouth near her ear “Just let me do this”

Lola was completely confused but dropped her forehead onto his chest, her tears soaking into the material of his shirt. She was too upset to argue, and something neither of them ever thought they’d be doing, finding comfort in the person they hated most in mutual state of distress.

THIS IS NOT MY STORY. All credit goes to xxfan1direction.tumblr.com go follow and check her out. She has an amazing blog and is a beautiful writer.