Abused (L.S) (Punk!Harry)

Work

I got a job, even though I don't look like the type to do so. It took everything in me, but I took out my piercings, covered my tattoos, and interviewed two years ago when I turned fifteen. They allowed me to work, I told them why I had to. My mum cannot survive on simply her income, and so I had to get a job. Dad left, it didn't just affect his life. It changed mine for the worse.

I went into the flower shop where I work- in the back. That way people cannot see me, and I can work in peace. I walked in, and smiled shyly at a customer. They scowled at me, and caused me to scurry to the back room. My boss walked in a couple of moments later, and tucked one of my turquoise curls behind my ear. "I'm sorry love, I don't appreciate those who look with their eyes, rather than their hearts." I shrugged, Zayn had always understood me. He has tattoos as I do, but he keeps them hidden constantly.

I don't respond, and he understands when I do not. I stared at my normal chair, where I usually work for seven hours in the evening. "Could I... could today be a standing day?" I asked, looking at him with big eyes. He doesn't know my situation entirely, but he understands that I have days where I can't sit down. I guess that tells people more than they need to know.

I've been told by several to just stand up for myself, when I give out my excuses of why I can't. That if I just worked out more and tried harder that next time I wouldn't "slip and fall" like I always do. But it's not that simple. Nothing is as black and white as outsiders would have it look. After asking what I did to Zayn, I could tell that he was about to try to dig into the color of my world.

"Why... is it that you can't sit? Every Monday it's too difficult for you to sit. Why is that Mr. Styles?" I shrugged, and laced my fingers together. I know why. But to let him in would be far more than I could ever bare to do to another person. It would be too much pain for a soul to know what happens behind closed doors. I kept my eyes trained to the ground, and heard my boss sigh in frustration. A gentle hand gripped at my chin, I followed its grasp immediately.

"You can stay with me tonight, if you'd like to. I'll make the couch up- it's not much but I can do so." I shook my head timidly.

"I've got a curfew Mr. Malik." I said, smiling at him with my best convincing smile. He studied my face for a moment, before brushing my curls aside. My forehead. I was hoping that no one would notice that. I winced, and gently pushed his hand away. "I had a clumsy moment sir, it's no big deal, really." He shook his head and put his hand back, this time being more gentle than the first.

"Harry... this looks serious. What exactly happened here?" I pushed his hand away once again, and covered up my injury.

"I set my alarm too loud and fell out of my bed." My poker face stared him dead on, but I had to keep serious about this. I don't even have an alarm, let alone a bed. If he knew, he'd have a color to my world. A piece to my puzzle. No one can have any pieces to my puzzle, it's far too dangerous to even have one. He nodded slowly at my excuse, and patted my shoulder.

I waited until he walked off before starting my work. I have hundreds of flowers to cut, cut the stems properly, then bouquets to create. Whether it's custom made or something that I have to create, I love it every time. Flowers are a way I can escape. Appearances mean nothing, mind, and I can love flowers if I want to. My heart jumped a little as I saw a bundle of roses out on the table. Roses are my favorite flower. They remind me of Beauty and the Beast. How she only saw what was on the inside of the scary creature, and loved him. It made my heart swoon, I want my own Belle. Well, my own male Belle.

Standing up, I picked up one flower, and began the work I do on them. Most flower shops are quite boring, and cut simply flat along the bottom of their bouquets- but that's what makes our shop special. I cut the bottoms into fun shapes, depending on what the customer orders. Things such as hearts, smaller flowers, rings, anything for any occasion. I'm quite skilled with intricate work with my little knife.

Some music flowed through the back room, and I sighed. Zayn knows what I like. I suppose he figures if he couldn't get the answer out of me, that he might as well play me a little music. He knows all there is to know about me that I allow people to know. The music I like, the stories behind three of my tattoos, and that I am kind. That is all anyone needs to know about me.

I went to sit in my chair, as my legs were going a bit tired, but hopped up as I felt the nauseating burn against my thighs and between. That's alright, it allows me to dance around the room a little to my favorite artists. Everyone always expects that I'd like screamo music, or punk rock, hard rock, heavy metal, something to that affect. I prefer classic rock, swing music, something you can really dance along to. Something that talks about real stuff, not about how hard your life is, and how much it sucks. That's not real life.

In real life if things aren't going well, you just deal with it. Don't go and complain in a song, what good does that do? Let your complaints know that you can sing? I shook my head, realizing I had gotten lost in the moment. I placed a heart with a bouquet going to a local family. I read the card that's supposed to go along with it. "Congratulations on honors roll Louis!" I rolled my eyes, and adjusted all the flowers in the bouquet. They were quite lovely.

All of the stems had a little "A" carved into them, I suppose I didn't realize what that meant until I read the card. Oh well, the last flower is in now, so what's the use in knowing? I sealed the card, nestled it among the flowers, and set it on the delivery table. It'll go out in a little while. Also in a little while my shift would be ending. I return back to hell, and pray that tonight won't be too bad. I could accept the offer to sleep at someone else's, but that would leave my mum, and I don't want her to ever have to deal with what I do. That's not fair to her, she already works so much to care for me.

The clock's hands only moved closer and closer, until finally they reached quitting time and my work was complete for the night. I stretched a little, and waited for Zayn to come in the back. He wandered back five minutes past closing time, and took my hand in both of his. "You don't have to go back tonight Harry. I promise, if you stay with me I can... help you prevent an accident." I put on my best fake smile, and shrugged.

"If I'm clumsy at home, I'll be even clumsier not having a night there. Besides, I really miss my bed. Didn't get to sleep much last night." Shoot. Too much slipped out. I have to back track, retreat, somehow cover up what I just said. Zayn opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off quickly. "I wasn't feeling very well- stomach problems. I uh, was pretty much getting up and down all night. S'why I'm sore..." perfect. That's some level of excuse that's acceptable. Zayn nodded slowly as he always does, and allowed me to go on my way. I wait at the bus stop until he drives past in his car, then start walking home.

I'm not rich enough to have the luxury of taking the bus. All of my money goes towards taking care of my mum, inadvertently my step father, and myself. There is no spare dollar to waste on a bus ride. In fact, there's really no spare dollar for me to have dinner on work nights. I sighed, and continued walking home, until I got to the rundown house. We were able to keep it after my father left, but only just. Just enough money every month to pay for it. I unlocked the door, and hoped my step father was already asleep for the night.

I went to sneak into "my room", when I heard footsteps.

"You don't think you're getting off that easy tonight, do you boy?"