Rain | Harry Styles

5.0

'they head straight for your heart, like a bullet in the dark, one by one, i take them down.'

(wolves - one direction)

-

A.

"Harry," I rushed to his side, wrapping my hand around his wrist, "Come on, you don't have to do this," I tried to coax him as Gemma only watched in disbelief. He didn't dare to look at me, but I couldn't tear my eyes from him.

Harry's voice was low to begin with, shaky before he raised it, "Tell me what you're doing here, you sick fucking bastard!" he lurched towards the man in front of us all of a sudden, and I gripped his arm as best as I could, holding him back. 

I tried to get through to him again, "Harry-"

"Tell me!" he roared, taking another step towards him as Celia rushed from the other room, Ben and Liam closely behind her.

"What is going on here- oh my God," she took a step back against the wall and brought her hands to her mouth in disbelief, the fear in her eyes just as bad, if not worse than Gemma's.

"What the fuck?" Liam's eyes widened, clearly recognising Harry's father and attempting to step in.

"I'm not here to argue with you, Haz," Ken spoke for the first time, and I felt Harry tense under my touch. 'Haz' - so that was why Harry hated the nickname so much.

"How fucking dare you," he seethed, and Ken's eyes widened in response, clearly not having expected this reaction.

I looked at Harry's father properly for the first time, and there was no denying the physical similarities between them. He had the same piercing green eyes Harry did, and the same sharp bone structure, his hair falling in grey wisps around his face. His eyes were bloodshot, yet they remained narrowed as he watched Harry carefully.

"You're drunk," Harry spat, "you came here to what? Reason with us? What fucking nerve do you have?"

"I wanted to talk," his father suddenly appeared vulnerable, and I forced myself to remember all the horrible things he had put Harry through as a child; scarred him with.

Harry was the only one who dared to speak to him - Gemma, Celia and Ben only watching in disbelief as Ken tried to reason with Harry.

"Nobody has a thing to say to you," Harry snarled, and I had never seen him so furious in his life, "you what? Ran out of money? Couldn't afford another round at the pub, so you decided to come here? How did you even find us?"

"I found out you were in Seattle and tried to head there a few months ago, and when I realised you weren't - I asked around here, too," Ken swallowed, and as I looked up at Harry his fists were shaking, pure rage overtaking his senses, "I wanted to see how you were doing. And I see you're doing well," he added, glancing at me now.

Harry finally noted that I was beside him, wrapping a protective arm around me as his glare intensified, eyes not leaving his father, "I'm giving you five seconds to get the fuck out of here, before I put you through a mere fraction of what you put us through," Harry threatened now, and I could tell he meant it by the way he took an intimidating step towards Ken, and I held an arm out in front him, desperate to cease any physical confrontation he was planning. 

Ken raised his arms in surrender, "Son, I don't want to-"

"I'm not your fucking son!" Harry roared even louder than before, and had this been anybody else he was screaming at, I'd have tugged him away and tried to reason with him - but this was his father. Harry had spent years suffering through the pain and memories this man had left with him, and now he was finally face-to-face with him, and this was his chance to clear his own head.