KING//H.S

8

Rose

Harry came back a few hours later and I still hadn't moved from my seat. My legs were almost completely numb but I didn't dare move a muscle. He seemed confused when he came back and I was still there but when he realized I waited for his permission, he seemed rather pleased. That whole week, every day seemed to repeat itself. It scares me how normal this life is becoming for me. Not normal but routine. A terrible cycle that I fear I won't be able to break any time soon.

I wake up in a cold sweat when I hear screams from somewhere in the house. I rub my eyes to rid myself of my blurry vision and I slowly make my way out of my bed and through the door without a second thought. When I reach the hallway, another scream is heard. I walk down the hallway in search of the cause and hear a noise from downstairs. I creep towards the staircase and when another scream rings in my ears, I don't recognize it as Harry's voice. It's much more feminine. Glass shatters directly afterwards and I freeze half way down the steps when he comes into view. He has his usual tight black jeans on but he is wearing a white t shirt that is thin enough that I can see his many tattoos peaking out. He stares at me for a second before speaking and I take in his entire appearance, noticing the blood drops on his shirt and how his hands are also stained in the color.

"Go to my room." I don't question him and I turn towards the upstairs and walk straight into his bedroom. I can't help but feel like I am still asleep. I'm sure that I'm not because how could I be? I am aware of my surroundings and know sort of what is going on in a way that I couldn't if I were asleep. Which I'm not. Right?

Just when I begin to think that maybe Harry isn't going to show up, the door opens and he steps inside. He is still wearing the same bloodstained shirt which is quite alarming when I notice how much more blood is on it now. Before it looked as if he had somebody else's blood on him but now it looks to be his own, possibly coming from a deep wound.

"You're hurt." I suddenly say, worry flashing through all of my features. He swallows what looks to be a lump in his throat and stands still. "Harry, what happened?"

"I can't tell you." I consider trying to get the truth out of him but sometimes not knowing is better than knowing so I ignore the cause of his bleeding and walk towards him. He is hesitant at first when I bring my hands to the front of his shirt and pull up a bit but I look up at his glossed over eyes and reassure him. When the shirt is held up, a cut across his right hipbone is revealed and it isn't nearly as bad as I thought it was, causing me to think that the blood on his shirt isn't only his. I bite my tongue before I ask for the truth. I know will only regret it.

"Should I bandage it?" I ask him slowly, worried that he will ignore my offer. Instead, he lifts my chin up to look at him and rests his forehead against mine. The action is foreign to me but I accept it. I'm not sure if it's because I'm afraid of him or that I haven't felt human contact in so long, but I don't move. Both, I think.

"What are you doing?" I whisper to him, afraid of what this could lead to and if I'm willing to stop it or not.

"I want you."

"What?"

"I want you. I want you now." Before I can speak again, his head tilts down and his lips hover over mine before he pushes against me and our lips connect. I'm not sure why but I go along, trying to keep up with his movements as best as I can. His mouth tastes of wine and mint and I welcome the taste. Everything that I'm feeling makes me wonder if I should run before it's too late.

His mouth feels hungry against mine and I try my best not to gasp for air when his tongue darts past my lips. Still, I don't stop him. I wasn't to slap myself in the face for how stupid I am but part of me wonders if it isn't even my fault. I am afraid of him and God only knows how he would react if I pulled away. The thought of the last time I kissed somebody plays into my mind. Oh, God. Issac. I'm kissing the man who killed my boyfriend. Suddenly, I feel a rush of blood go straight to my head and I start to walk backwards. My intentions weren't to lay on the bed, but my head is now rested on the pillows and my body sprawled out in front of me. My bones begin to feel as if they are sinking into the bed and my head is spinning as I watch him drag his hand over his mouth in attempt to gather himself and then begins to walk towards me.

"Maybe we shouldn't," I cut myself off and blink several times, trying got stop my blurring vision. Harry has now crawled onto the bed and is hovering over me, dipping his head down into the crevice of my neck and back up.

"Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you," I cut him off by placing my index finger over his mouth in attempt to stop him from continuing. Instead of silencing him, he slides his lips over my finger and gently bites down sending an odd feeling through my entire body.

"I don't feel right, Harry." I feel my breathing increasing as the rest of my body freezes to the bed.

"Sweetheart, it never does at first." The soft look in his eyes is gone and filled with a hunger that I can't explain. But the sinister look in his eyes from before is back.

He begins to leave small, red patches on my neck and chest but I know that can't fight him off of me nor will I try. I pull my hands to my face and try to hide the weakness that is shown in my features as Harry begins to fumble with the bottom of my nightgown. When he notices my hands, he furrows his eyebrows at me.

"Put you hands at your sides, I want to see you."

"I don't want this, I can't feel anything, I," I try my best to form a coherent sentence but fail and Harry only smirks at me. "We don't even love each other." The sentence leaves my mouth before I even know what I'm saying. Of course he knows we don't love each other. But I don't think whatever we're going right now has the same being to him as it does to me. I'm starting to wonder if I've been drugged. It sounds like an odd thought because how could I possibly be? But everything is happening so fast and my vision continues to blur over with every item of clothing that he removes from himself.

"This isn't about love, Rose. Why would I want to be in love with you when I already have you?" His spiteful words try their best to snap me out of my unconscious-like state but as much as they hurt, they don't make me move. "Just let me do this. Don't be mistaken, by the end of this, you'll be begging for me." I shut my eyes hard and open them again, just in time to see Harry's bloodstained shirt getting thrown to the side. He reaches down towards the bottom of my dress again, looking at my bare legs with the same look that a lion gives his prey.

I can't help but feel my heartbeat pick up it's pace in anticipation but the feeling is unwelcome. In one quick moment, he moves my legs apart and my knees are on different sides of him and he attaches his mouth to mine again, one hand fumbling with the buttons on his pants, the other holding his body up above mine.

As much as I want to stop him, tell him that I am terrified of him, I can't. I'm frozen in place as he kisses me in a rushed manor, forcing me to reciprocate the actions with my own mouth. For a second, I'm so out of it that I imagine it being Liam on top of me instead. Not that we ever got further than just making out, but I knew that if I was going to go this far with anybody, I wanted it to be Liam. His blue eyes take over my mind and I don't even realize that my hands have made their way to Li- Harry's hair, tugging lightly.

As the unspeakable events take place, I let the thought of Liam take over as I pretend that it is him I am sharing this moment with. But as hard at I try, the voice in the back of my head screaming help me doesn't quiet down the entire time.

Help me,
Help me,
Help me.