Sold // Harry Styles

Chapter 25

The gang members’ cackles slowly die out and fade into the air as they walk farther away from Harry’s house.  It leaves an uncomfortable, roaring silence in the family room where Harry is trying to ease his pain.

My jaw clenches when I see blood staining Harry’s gauze wrapped tightly around his burn.  It trickles down his arm but it seems as though I’m the only one who notices it.  Harry clutches his stomach, his eyebrows knit together as he winces in pain.

A.J. is sickening.  He can beat up on an innocent person and find happiness in it.  He thinks it’s funny to hold someone hostile while he beats them to a pulp.  He knew Harry couldn’t do anything to protect himself and yet he still did it anyways simply because he likes to be in control.  He likes the power.  All of this is like a game to him.  And unfortunately, it’s a game that both Harry and I are caught up in and we can’t escape.

I kneel beside Harry and gently touch his shoulder.  He groans and hides his face into his arm, still grabbing at his stomach.

“Come on,” I whisper.  “Let me help you to the couch and then I can give you some pain relievers and clean up the blood.”

I wrap my arm around him, trying to help him off the ground.  He’s heavy in my arms and all he wants to do is hunch over.

I’ve never seen him this weak before.  He’s never given into my help so easily.  Stubbornness is always wrapped around his head like a dark cloud.  It casts a shadow over his thoughts and manipulates him into thinking I’m some sort of bad guy.  He tosses me aside, refusing any sort of help when he needs it the most.

I can only imagine that the amount of pain he’s in is overtaking his stubborn attitude right now.  As much as I want to feel happy that he’s accepting my help for once, I feel devastated that he’s too weak to fight me off.

“I need—please—just—let go,” Harry begs.  He wiggles in my arms, struggling to free himself as I tighten my grip around his shoulders.

“Harry, please.  Let me help you.”

Another moan escapes his lips before he doubles over in pain.  His eyes clench shut, and one hand grasps at his stomach, the other clasps over his mouth.

“Let go!” he yells.  Pain is laced in his words.

I let go of Harry’s frail body immediately and he takes off down the narrow hallway.  His hands never move from his mouth and stomach.

“Harry, wait!”

I race after him as he limps hurriedly into the bathroom.  “Stay there,” he says as he attempts to close the door on my face.  I put my foot in between the frame, stopping the door from closing.

My body freezes as I walk into the bathroom to see Harry hunched over the toilet, hands grasping the sides.  He hurls into the bowl before locking his eyes on me.

“Don’t—” he starts to say before he leans back over the toilet to vomit again.

His body shakes and trembles as I rush to his side and gently rub circles into his back to try and comfort him.  He clenches his eyes closed before another round spews out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” I say quietly.

He looks up at me and a flash of emotions dance across his face.  He doesn’t say anything, and yet I understand everything that he decides to leave unspoken.  There’s something in his posture that tells me everything.

His eyebrows are pulled down at the ends causing harsh wrinkles to appear on his once smooth forehead.  It tugs on the corners of his eyes, which are encased with a glossy appearance.  The tears threaten to spill some of the pain that he chooses to conceal from the world.  They taunt the boy as they waver back and forth on the brim of his eye, reminding him that they could expose him of his true character at any given point.