Abused (L.S) (Punk!Harry)

Tuesday Evening

Well. School was absolute hell. I can't believe how much a plug can pull and stretch and bring pain unimaginable. Walking I find it even worse. I had to text Zayn to let him know I'll be late to work, as I'm going over to the Tomlinson's to make an apology for my wrong doings. I just messed up one teensy flower. I'm sure rumors are already going around school about me. Everyone just hates me. I sighed quietly, and walked up to the front door of the mansion. Mansion. This kid has a house five times as large as mine, and he wants to complain about one little flower.

I knocked timidly, and kept my head down. "Who is it- oh. Hello Harry. Mum said she wanted to speak with you in her study. I'll lead you there." I looked up slowly at Louis, and noticed big blue eyes staring at me. I hope that in actually looking at me, he doesn't figure out anything about me. I slowly limped inside, and slid my old shoes off. "Are you alright? You're limping..." his voice was... sympathetic?

Weird. I shrugged, and nodded. "No, really, what's wrong? Know what? Mum's a nurse, I'll have her take a look at you." That freaks me out. She'll find me out, she'll report dad to the police. He's gonna kill mum. He's gonna not be convicted! He's gonna kill her. I can't put him away until I gather more solid evidence, and save up enough money for us to live where it's just us. I whined quietly and rapidly shook my head.

"M fine, really. C-can I just... get this over with?" Louis nodded slowly at me, and took me to a giant door. He knocked on it, and a woman's voice invited us both in. Louis walked in before me, and held the door open for me. I rushed in as quickly as I could and just started apologizing. I'm always the one who messes up, so apologies are always appropriate. "Mrs. Tomlinson, I am so so so sorry about the mishap with the flower bouquet. I guess I just lost focus at work a-and- I'll pay for them if you want me to. I can pay for the whole bouquet, and send you a new one with all the c-carvings correct, I'm just- I'm s-so sorry!" I blurted out, eyes filling with tears. This is my job I'm talking about, I have to do whatever I can to keep it.

Mrs. Tomlinson looked at me with sympathy in her eyes, before standing up from her desk. I started crying, oh god she's going to hit me. "Oh no love... no no no..." she muttered, pulling me into her arms. I waited for pinching, hair pulling, something, but she was just hugging me. Shouldn't she be mad? I made such a terrible mistake. I don't understand. "Shh sweetie... Louis, can you go make a pot of tea please?" A pot of tea? Oh no. No no. One time Derek made me a pot of tea, I thought it was because I couldn't calm down, but he came and poured the water over my hands and arms. Not tea. Anything but tea. I whimpered, and I couldn't help myself, I just cried harder. I'm terrified. How can I be crying? I'm just the worst.

"Hey now... let's dry those pretty green eyes, yeah?" Mrs. Tomlinson sat me down on her desk, and started to clean up my face. She was very careful to avoid the piercings and clean me up very gently. "Can I ask why you thought  I was going to yell at you bubba?" Her voice is just as gentle as mum's, so much so that maybe I can trust her.

"M-my stepdad said that I made a mistake at my job... and th-that you wanted to see me here, and so I-I got kinda scared cause I really need that job..." Mrs. Tomlinson's eyes filled with sympathy, and almost what seems like confusion.

"I just said that I wanted to speak with you about your job lovie. I'm sorry words got twisted. Why don't we take a proper seat. I would like to talk to you about a career." I gulped quietly as I stood off her desk. A career? Like, a really real job? I sat down in front of her desk as normally as I possibly could. She sat back behind her desk, and straightened some papers. How intimidating, I'm glad we don't have a desk like this at home. "Harry, yeah?" I nodded, looking up at her intent on listening. "I would like to offer you a job. I really loved your bouquet, I found it very neat and well done. I noticed that it takes dedication, hard work, and attention to detail. Now, I'm not sure how you are with words rather than flowers, but I need someone with attention to detail- I need an editor. A personal editor. I'm willing to offer £100 an hour, I'm afraid you may have to leave your floral work if you come work for me, however." My eyes went wide open and my mouth fell slack.

A hundred pounds? An hour?! Can you imagine, ten hours makes a thousand pounds! And with that kind of money, mum and I could move out as soon as... two months from now! My heart just about stopped. This job could absolutely mean freedom from my abuser. Louis walked in with a tray of tea, and set it on the table. He poured some into a cup, and turned towards me. "Do you like milk or sugar with your tea?" I just... sat there. I literally can't respond to anything right now.

"I think he's just a bit gobsmacked. I offered the job, and I think this is a good sign?" I just sat. My heart is stopping and then racing rapidly, then stopping, then back to rapid. Oh dear.

I only hear a little now. Ringing in my ears, and busyness beside me. "Oh honey, okay, Louis can you please get me my in-house EKG? I'm gonna have to check the poor thing's heart..." my eyes slowly fluttered open, oh boy does my head hurt. I felt two pairs of hands on me, and was suddenly on the most comfortable couch I've ever been on in my entire life. "Get his shirt off, you know how to do it." Shirt off? Oh. They're gonna see. Quick! Think of lies to tell them about the cuts and bruises.

I felt stickers attach all over me, all over my chest, some on my arms, two on my ankles. "Here we go... here we go Harry... everything will be okay..." I looked over at Mrs. Tomlinson, and Louis who was hovering over me like a nervous mother duck. He doesn't even like me, what does he care if I pass out? She nodded to him, and he started peeling the stickers off.

"Ow... ow!" I whined, stickers hurting bruises and cuts all over. This is not good. This feels terrible. I hate this. "Please... m sorry... didn't mean to..." I mumbled, rubbing my fingers over a harsh bruise. I remember, I made Derek mad by getting home a minute later than I was supposed to. I had tripped on the curb, and came home all bloody on my hands and knees, and he just kinda... kicked me. For being late. I mean, I was late, I guess I deserved it.

"Honey, honey, no one intends to pass out. You've gotta take it easy, it's possible I did a little blood test on you, and you're in a very fragile state right now. I'm gonna call your parents, see if you can stay here tonight."

She means Derek. What about mum, what if she's not safe?!