Malignant [h.s]

Fifty

Harry Styles

"You what?" Her voice goes quiet as I spit out the words that I should've kept in.

Fuck why would you say that Harry? What the hell were you thinking? My body tenses up as I feel like I've stepped way too at out of my comfort zone by admitting to something like that.

"Never mind." I shake my head and pull back away from her, standing to my feet on the dark hardwood floors. She looks up at me, confused.

"Harry you just said that you rather yell at someone then tell them that you're hurt. What do you mean by that?" She looks up at me with almost a tinge of worry in her hazel eyes.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"I shouldn't of said that; let's just move on." I declare before walking towards the door and exiting as quickly as possible. My office feels like it got a hundred degrees hotter just by that conversation. My breath becomes tight and my chest feels like it's balancing a thousand fucking pounds.

I almost jog down the stairs and turn right to the bar, sliding behind the counter in a rush and grabbing the giant glass bottle of tequila. My hands fumble in nervousness as I unscrew the cap and bring the rim to my lips.

"Harry." Her voice beckons from over the railing as I let the clear liquid flood my mouth and burn the back of my throat.

God what a good burn.

I hear her light footsteps tap down the stairs. Her arms crossed and her face full of concern as I detach myself from the bottle.

"Why are you doing this?" She almost whispers as I place the bottle back down and grab a cup out from under the table on a shelf. 

"I'm thirsty." I blatantly answer before turning my back to her and filling the glass with scotch.

"It's one in the afternoon." She exclaims. I shake my head and turn back around with the three quartered filled cup in my hands, making her glance at it then back at me.

"Can we talk about this please?" She further asks, wanting answered from me. I take a big sip from the dark liquid and shake my head.

"No." I mumble, shaking my head. She needs to forget about that ever happening, I'm revealing too much about myself and it's frightening.

I can't. I can't. I can't.

"Harry why were you hurt?" She goes forward and asks anyway.

"Fuck Amelia I said no!" I snap and slam my glass on the table. She flinches slightly at my words and keeps her guarded stance.

I take a another big sip from the rich alcohol and let the burn re coat my throat.

"Why are you being like this? You're the one that said it, not me." She emphasizes, tucking a long fray hair behind her ear, exposing her heavenly soft but sharp jawline that makes me just want to attack it with my lips.

"I know what I said, but I'm taking it back."

"You can't just take it back." She shakes her head. My blood starts to boil she she insists on fighting back at me with everything I say.

Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

"I can if I said I fucking can!" I bark, making her widen her eyes lightly at my chose of volume. I take my final sip of what's left in the cup and slam it back on the glass countertop.