Far

eleven

It was like someone had flipped a switch, because in the matter of seconds, Harry and Jacob were getting ready to fight.

Jacob had arrived thirty minutes ago, I had sunken into the couch, and Harry on the arm of the couch next to me had been throwing subtle rude comments towards him. Which at one point led to Jacob returning the gesture and Harry getting mad.

I am now stood in a circle with everyone else as the
two are yelling at each other in the center.

"Harry, mate, let it go!" Zayn, I think is his name, says.

"You really think you can take girls into a closet and try to force them to do things with you? Think that's how it works?" Harry yells, his green eyes are wild.

My heart drops into my stomach. The crowd erupted into small talk, no doubt trying to figure out who he was talking about.

"That's how you have to get off?" Harry continues taunting him.

I need to throw up. I need to get out of here.

"She wanted it! You should have seen her face, the way she moaned into my ear, the way my tongue moved against her," Harry had lunged at him, striking his face.

"Harry!" I involuntarily scream.

They were going to rip each other's heads off, and no one was doing anything. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? Any of Harry's friends? Lili and Cole asked me if it was okay if they left, and Harry assured them it would be fine. And look where that has ended up. I look over to Liam, he was just standing there cheering Harry on.

Why can't anything go right at this godforsaken frat house?

"Please, Harry, stop!" I yell once more, but it was no use.

Jacob was bleeding from the nose and the mouth, and I could see a cut on Harry's lips from Jacob's ring.

I run towards them, grabbing Harry's shoulders, "Harry, stop!"

The wind is knocked out of me when his elbow collided with my ribs, and I fall to the floor with my hands holding the aching spot.

There were people at my side in seconds, asking if I was okay and if I needed anything.

"You sure you don't want some ice?" A girl with ginger hair and glasses asks

"No, I'm fine, really." I say, forcing a smile.

I look at my hand holding the spot, and then it got quiet, and I look up. Harry was standing above me with wild, intense green eyes. His mouth was ajar a little, and it was bleeding in the left corner.

Without a word, he picks me up and a yelp comes out of my mouth. He looks at me worriedly, but I shrug it off. He takes me upstairs and into his room, and lays me gently on the bed.

"Lift up your dress," he says.

I furrow my brows, "What?"

"Lift up your dress. Show me where I hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me, I'm fine," I say, slowly getting up.

His brows furrow more. It was an accident, he didn't mean to do it. It was not his fault, I should have not of gotten in there, I should of asked someone like Zayn.

He sucks in a breath, "Either you lift up your dress, or I will."

"Harry, it is fine! I promise," I try to tell him, but he is not having it.