Chiller (harry styles)

34: Old Glass

The clanking mason jars of Big Pete's pool room sound over my head. The music of them brings me back. It sounds like crystals, diamonds being thrown about together in a case. The steady wind of their movements, the side to side sway of old glass and smoke withered air. Slowly, I turn my body over on the wool blanket in the floor. Harry lays beside me. His beautiful green eyes are wide open, and when he sees that I am awake again, his face washes over with relief. As glad as I am to see him here with me, I can't help but wonder why we are here. Why is anything? Lately, that answer has been lost on me.

Harry's hands cover my hips, and he pulls my body to his chest. I sigh with relief, with comfort and joy. I love being in his arms. It is the only thing that gives me solace and warm. The only place where I feel I am home. Truly home and safe.

"I'm happy to see you conscious again, baby." He tells me, smiling.

I nuzzle into his chest, and nod against him.

I'm just happy to see him, to be with him.

Harry chuckles a little.

"It seems you get knocked out a lot around me." He says, but his voice breaks at the end.

I look up at him, and see the sadness. It lies in his eyes, the crinkles of his forehead, the corners of his mouth, and somewhere deep within that is not now and never will be visible clearly to the mortal eye.


"Please, Harry. Don't beat yourself about it. You care for me, and you love me. I trust you. What more is there to hold onto than that?" I ask, pleading him to understand where I am coming from.

Harry is silent for a moment, but his eyes never leave my own. All I can hear is the clanking of the jars, and a drip of water, a single drip, falling from the window pane. It's still wet and evolving from its resting place, like a small butterfly rising into rain.

"No matter what," I hear him say firmly. "I will always protect you."

The clarity of the thunderous truth strikes me hard. I have never been more happy to hear that. I love that he will always be there for me.

I take hold of his black t-shirt, and tug it with my hands. It brings him closer. So close that I kiss his cheek.

"I love you." I say with just as much clarity and absolute passion.

"And I love you." He says, kissing my face all over sweetly.

I arch my back, and extend my neck up. He may be being sweet with his kisses, but I want to be as close as I can to him, to feel all his love wash over me in warmth like a summer rain. His lips touch my forehead, my ears, my nose, my eyelids, my cheeks, the corners of my mouth, and finally my lips. Our lips crash hard together, taking all we can get from the other as fast as we can. His tongue finds mine, and tastes it, oh so heavenly, it dances with it.

I feel Harry's hand roaming down my back, lifting my shirt up to really feel me, how hot my skin is because of him, until it touches the skin of my behind. Harry's hand drops lower, caresses it, and then squeezes the cheeks firmly. I moan into his mouth.

My hands quickly unbutton the few buttons of the shirt hanging around his black T. In a few seconds it is slipped off and lying on the ground next to us with his black shirt as well. I run my hands over Harry's bare chest. His skin is all tattooed and hard as rock. His chest rises up and down with my touch, and then my hands run over his nipples, and he sucks in a sharp breath. In a moment of bravery, I lean down and kiss his chest everywhere my lips will take me, and then I kiss his nipples.

"Damn I love you. I'll always love you. So much. So, so much." He moans freely, as he he holds me tight to him.

Harry lifts up one of my legs and tosses over his hip as he moves me under him. He's hovering over me, looking finely male and all angel. His skin glows with his excitement. He smiles at me before he dips his head down to begin kissing and licking on my neck and shoulders. I run my hands over his bare shoulders, over the shiny cold spot where I know his wings begin. Harry lifts his head back up, closes his eyes. I decide to do something while I have him like this, all vulnerable to my actions. I wrap my arms around his neck, and both my legs around his hips so that I don't fall. Then I reach my lips up and kiss his neck, lick it like it's the very best chocolate. I kiss his ear, whisper my love to him, and then give it a lick too.

I travel across his face next, kissing all over until I reach those gorgeous lips of his. I waste no time now. The feeling of his lips moving on mine is indescribable. It's like the rainbow after the rain, the calming eastern wind settling over the pines after a forest fire. My body feels as though it is on fire, and perhaps it is actually heating up considering Harry's blazing light.

"You look so glorious." I pant.

And he does. Like the morning star of Heaven's eyes.

Harry kisses my shoulder all the way across my chest, up my neck to my lips. It feels amazing. He crashes his lips on mine again, and the feeling of fire sets my body ablaze. Harry's glory is shining all around us. I'm soaked in sweat. It's like being too close to a burning stove, or a fireplace. And yet it is like a fresh breath of air. Beautiful and redeeming. Lovely and wonderful.

His stormy green eyes capture mine, fog up my thoughts, and his hands, oh his hands!, roam my body as if they cannot get enough. It seems to his hands that if they do not touch me I may disappear, and so he keeps them on me, everywhere, holding me together with the glue of his touch and his love to that I do not leave him.
I don't complain. The feeling is wonderfully amazing. Harry's arms are right where I want them to be, wrapped around me on this blanket, holding me as his lips take control of mine. He dips me backward a bit, kissing me fiercely, as if he is mad with me, mad of me. And for the slightest moment his lips will part away from that of mine, for a mere fraction of time. And those are the most dreadful seconds of my life. I feel a dying thirst, a dry parchment of agony,the single most unhopeful moment in the world.

Harry lays me completely back on the blanket, and lifts my shirt up over my head. I lay warm and dusty on the half dirty floor. My bra isn't anything to ashamed of, but it isn't the most beautiful piece of fabric available. It's white lace, simple and sexy. Harry looks down at me as if I am the most glorious thing he has ever laid his eyes upon, even more than an angel or God or Heaven itself. He watches me for a moment, as if making up his mind, then leans down and presses his lips to my my chest. Every little kiss feels like a bomb going off on my skin. It's so hot and tender and I want more. He works his way up my neck, nuzzling it as he goes, making me feel safe and giving me comfort. Everything feels right.

The sweetest brush of blistering hot velvet jolts me awake, makes me feel alive. For a moment I was asleep to his touch on me, for it was so tender. Hot bursts of ecstasy grow and shoot throughout my body. Harry has one of his hands on my breast, and the other in my hair. And his lips are madly kissing me again, making me thirsty with his love every time he pulls away for even a second. I feel my body folding in on itself. I want to touch him too, to feel his hair and wings and skin and glory in the palm of my hand.

I reach my hand up. All I want is one touch of him...

And then he collapsed against the wall.

Far away from me. His eyes are wild with a hot strange fear, and his body is rigid.

"You are so indecently tempting. It isn't fair...I lost myself for a moment there. This is all my fault...I can never lose control with you...I'm sorry." Harry trails off, looking me right in my eyes.

I lean myself up on my elbows and frown. I feel disappointed, sad, but mostly worried. Why is he so sorry? That was wonderful, no matter how long it lasted.

"I'm not sorry. That was perfect." I say, fiddling with the now cold blanket beneath me.

Harry shakes his head, his eyes angry.

"That was dangerous! If I had...if I had one ounce of self control around you I could protect you from the hazards of Chiller angels and mortals going too far. And I will. I promise you I will never be that out of control again. I'm so sorry. I could have hurt you badly, set you on fire, even." His eyes are welling with tears at the thought of me on fire.

"Harry, please." I softly say.

I get up from the floor, and walk over to him. He looks at me as if I am a timid animal, a sweet deer or bunny rabbit, and he is a ferocious lion who hasn't eaten for days. But he doesn't want to eat me. Oh, no. He looks at me as if he wants to protect me, to keep me away from his claws so that I am never hurt.

"I'm a terrible excuse for an existence." He mutters.

I reach out and stroke his arm. His bare skin is icy cold. All his glory has died down.

"I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" I ask him, hoping to change the subject.

This gets him to smile a little.

"Yeah, baby, but we don't even have close to the same diet."

The Chiller Angel diet is lost on me. I can't remember what is was they ate.

"Of course." I say, nodding my head like I know completely.

"But I'll still take you out." He tells me.

Harry walks over and picks up my shirt. He tosses it to me, and I catch it barely. I have horrible reflexes for the most part.

"We'll go for a ride too." He says, and I know he means his bike.

I slip my shirt on, and watch through the uncovered parts of my eyes as he puts his back on as well. The muscles in his back flex as he pulls it over, and his arms stretch wide and high with hard, packed abs. His long, curly hair is shaken, and his full lips purse out in contemplation of something. He smiles at me a little when he looks over to where I am. I nearly faint at the sight. And that smile was meant for me! He's so beautiful. I almost cry thinking about how beautiful he really is, but then a thought occurs to me. A sudden thought that was mangled earlier by all our heavy touching and kissing. He construed me with his passionate love.

"Why are we here?" I ask him.

Harry looks as shocked by the fact that I asked him as I am by the thought that I never asked him before.

"I had to get you away from all that. I don't know who that Demetria woman is, but I don't trust her And I don't trust you around that mirror, or anything else that you found inside it. And honestly you need a break from all that is happening in your life. I know it's a shock finding out that we have known each other before ,and that I'm not human. And I'm sure it doesn't help that your maid lady is off-" He says softly, but I cut him off there.

"She isn't my maid. She's the closet thing to a mother I have. I care dearly for her." I say softly back.

Harry nods, his face a little pinched up, as if he is embarrassed.

"Right. Anyway, it doesn't help that all the people around you at home aren't there. I didn't know what to do after you passed out last night, but I didn't want to leave you alone. This is where I live, so I thought I would bring you home with me." Harry explains, gesturing around him.

"You live at Big Pete's?" I state, more like a way for it to sink in than a real question.

"Yes. I know it's pathetic, but I have nothing. I'm not fortunate like you are." He barely says, his voice raspy and groggy, and then he looks away from me.

For some reason I cannot stand the thought of him being here another moment. He deserves more than this.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. I don't want you to have to live here, though, Harry. Why don't you come live with me?" I say without thinking, my voice sweet and anxious.

Harry's eyes turn wicked.

"I don't need your damn pity." He spits.

I try to pretend the tone of his voice does not absolutely terrify me.

"I'm not giving you pity. I care about you. I love you. Please, Harry. Come stay with me." I plead, my hand reaching out for his.

He takes my hand in his and nods.

"You stay away from that mirror. From all of that. I don't want you near that anymore. Not now at least. Not until I figure out what I am going to do. My mind is still turning with all of this." He says and I nod back.

"And what if Islan says it is time to go back?" I ask.

Harry swallows.

"Then we will go back together. I will be with you when you remember, when you see it all firsthand and for yourself, and we'll get the bolt together." He tells me.

"And what about Demetria? Where is she?" I ask him.

I still can't wrap my head around her being my mother's sister. That makes her my aunt. And the fact that she was evil is a little scary.

"Until I figure out what her game is I have her locked up. She's in the cellar of The Cold Ones. Louis and the guys are keeping a watchful eye on her. She tries any funny business and it's over."

His eyes are determined and truthful,and I both can and cannot believe he has her locked away.

"Okay then. I trust you." I say.

And we walk outside in the morning's first light, climb on his black bike, and drive off without another thought on the matter.

***

The drive down the road is cold and silent. I clutch my arms around Harry's waist and press my cheeks into his back. I don't like the feeling of the wind slapping my cheeks harshly. It just plain hurts.

Suddenly the rough feeling d my skin being beat up stops. In a second I look up and realize why. Harry has stopped the bike. We're by the blue lights of some bar, paused in front of the beginning of a short dark alley. Across from us is a movie theatre. I haven't been in one lately. In fact, I can't recall the last movie I saw. Perhaps I was a child. Maybe with my mother or father. We did a lot of things together back then. Simple things I still try to keep in my memory. Now my father hardly notices me.

"Harry, I'd love to see a movie before I eat. I can't remember the last time I ever-"

He hushes me by waving his hand in front of my face and giving me a stern look.

"Stay here. Don't move." He rudely demands of me.

I watch as he struts over to a bunch of smoking gang members with that stupid sexy Tim McGraw walk of his. Stupid cowboy walk gets me thinking things...bad things. I shake my head and focus on what is going on. Why hadn't I noticed them at first? They look scary and big. One of the guys has a tattoo on his face. His muscles are the biggest. He looks as big as Hulk Hogan. Except his black hair and angry look tells me he isn't into playing wrestling exactly. The four guys all lean back and examine Harry with interest. They are probably people he knows. He probably plays pool with them.

Harry leans in toward one of their faces, the skinniest one on the left, and it looks as if he is threatening the guy.

The black haired brute stares Harry down as he speaks, but Harry never looks his way. In fact, he looks everywhere but at him as he talks.

"Whatever! You think Louis won't turn his back and join us! You're a fool, Styles! He already has his hands in our money! Soon he'll quit that stupid band of yours and start riding with the big boys!" The tattooed one finally shouts.

It seems he was getting sick of being ignored.

"He played one game with us, Jet. Nothing is certain." An older man next to him reasons.

Jet clenches his teeth. A gleam of gold shows through it.

"I say he will, so he will. And before you know it, pretty boy, I'll have all of the people who you think are on your side on mine. Ashton, Niall, Louis, Luke, and your hit man, Michael. Yeah, he's a bad ass. I'll have them all working for me, and you'll be so low n' shit poor and lonely. Your mommy couldn't save herself. All I wanted was to give her everything and she bitched out. That dumb bitch. So, guess what, pretty boy? Someone has to pay for my pain. You are gonna suffer too." Jet seethes, his face right in Harry's.

Harry's anger is overwhelming. He looks so mad, so wild with rage. Harry pushes Jet off his bike, and screams in his face.

"You watch your mouth! You watch what the fuck you say!" Harry screams.

My heart begins to beat quickly. Fear courses through my veins.

"My guys won't ever turn your way! You're a sick bastard! You hurt my mother! You hurt my mother!" Harry screams, and he kicks Jet in the gut.

Jet clutches himself, and falls down to the ground. Harry climbs on top of him and beats his face in. Jet begins to look absolutely mangled, although he didn't look too nice before.

The other three guys that were on the bike start them up and drive off. Well they seemed like a nice crew, leaving their main guy, I'm guessing, to get pummelled. I don't think that will go over too well with Jet once he finds out. If Harry doesn't kill him first.

"That hot little girl on your bike..." Jet chokes out, blood running down the side of his face.

Now Harry's eyes look evil. Evil with madness and rage.

"Don't you ever touch her. Don't you ever look at her, or even talk about her. Shut the hell up now before I kill you. Because I will without hesitation. I will kill you." Harry threatens, his voice deadly low.

I clutch the seat and look away. I would rather not watch Harry beat him to death.

"You getting some of that?" Jet barely whispers.

There is so much blood pooling out of his body and mouth it sounds like a gurgling mess when he speaks.

"I said shut the hell up!" Harry shouts, and then punches Jet again and again.

"Bet she's a feisty one...maybe innocent...looks innocent." Jet trails off. "I'll have her too. I'll have her bouncing on my dick before-"

But before he finished his sentence and before I could puke Harry did something very strange.

He looked so mad with rage and so wild with hate, but I did not see what happened next coming.

Harry bites him. He sinks his teeth into Jet's flesh and Jet screams bloody murder. He begins to cry, and I can't take this anymore. I climb off the bike and run away, across the street toward the theatre. I suddenly recall the diet of the Chiller. The book I read, the one I keep meaning to buy, told about it. They have the diet of vampires. That is what makes them more like monsters than angels.

"Ahhhhhhggggghhhhhh!" I hear Jet wail.

How could Harry just bite a person, a human, in the middle of the street? I don't see anyone out here, but it seems pretty risky to me. Risky and stupid and scary as hell.

That scared me, and I'm not going back. If he wanted to defend my honour I am sure there was a better way than biting the man.

I open the front door to the movies, take one glance back at a writhing Jet and a sad Harry with his face in his hands and blood all over him, and then walk inside before I change my mind.

***
The movie wasn't bad. Neither was the next one, or the one after that. I don't know how many I go through before I finally decide to leave the theatre. But when I come out I realise three things.

1. I am still hungry.
2. It's dark outside.
And 3. Harry is still in the same spot in the same position, except Jet is missing.

I walk over to him quickly, holding my arms as I walk. It's freezing out here.

"What are you doing?" I demand of him when I reach the bike.

He looks up at me, and I see all the sadness in his eyes.

I almost want to cry myself.

"He...he hurt my mother...he said terrible things about you...I've never bite someone before...and I'm so sorry." He whimpers, his voice breaking.

I can't claim to understand his nature, but I know that Jet is a bad man and he deserved to feel pain. I just don't think Harry should have been the one inflicting it. He should have left that to the devil when Jet died and rotted in Hell. Like all bad people should.
But I can't be angry with Harry. He was defending me, defending his mother.

"It's okay." I whisper, walking over to him.

"He talked evil things about the only two women I have ever loved...It made me sick." He continues.

I nod, smiling to myself at the fact that he just said he loved his mother, and bite my bottom lip.

He still has blood all over him, but it isn't dried. It's wet and sloppy, like he just finished the job. How did no one notice him out here?

"Harry, it's alright." I say again. "Please just stand up."

He does what I say and smiles slightly at me. It's a sloppy, bloody smile.

"Let's get you all cleaned up, okay?" I suggest, taking his hand.

Harry grabs my hips.

"Now that's why I'm talking about." He mummers.

I roll my eyes and together we walk back over to the back. For the first time and I'm sure the very last, I drive. Harry sleeps, or it sounds like sleeping, on my back the whole way back to Big Pete's.

***

There is a shower in the very back room of Big Pete's basement. I suspect this is where Harry bathes anyway, so I shove him down there and tell him to clean up.

"Do I get any help?" He asks suggestively.

I shake my head no.

"Please just hurry." I plead.

"Alright babe. I'll meet you back up here in a flash." He claims, ripping his shirt off.

I cringe at the sight of the fresh blood all over him, and run back up to the pool room.

Harry finally comes back up. He's dressed in a black shirt and ripped jeans that hang low on his hips. He looks gorgeous. And clean. Very clean.

I lick my dry lips.

"I'm still hungry." I say seductively, even though I didn't plan on it coming out seductive at all.

Harry struts over to me, a takes my face in his hands.

He brings his lips to mine, kissing with a slight masterfulness I have never felt with his before. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

He is the first to lean away.

"Still hungry?" His voice is so alluring.

I nod my head and lean up to press my lips against his again. Except all I feel is air.

Harry chuckles and tosses me his leather jacket.

"Then we better get to that restaurant. I'll take you out for dinner." He playfully tells me.

I slip the jacket on and follow him out the door silently. Oh, how I wish the food had been the taste of his lips! That sweet sugar of his love I would die for, that I would search forever for just to feel again. Oh, how thirsty I am without it, how lonely I am without him! I walk behind him, thinking of his lips, of his kiss, of how much I would love to have one more taste.
But I suppose a pasta plate will suffice for now.