Fix her// harry styles fan fiction

Victoria (18)

this chapter in unedited and probably riddled with mistakes but its late and im sick so I don’t want to edit it , comment if its really bad and ill edit it tomorrow

Harry hung out at my house for a while before he decided to go back to his house. We both agreed to pretend that we weren’t friends when we were at school or around any of his team mates. He said his dad would probably let him stay at the house once he told him that he was back on the team . once I kissed him goodnight I went upstairs to wait for my parents to get home.

~~~

“ Victoria” I heard my mom call

“ what” I yelled back

“ will you come here for a moment” she asked

I sighed and got up and walked out into the hallway

“ where are you?” I asked

“ in the bathroom” she replied

My heart immediately started to pound and my pulse quickened

I walked into the bathroom to see her standing by the bathtub with the curtain wide open. my eyes went wide as I saw the red bath water

“ what is this” she asked pointing to the water

“ oh umm” I said my mind racing “ I washed off some of my paint brushed and I must have forgotten to drain the water sorry”

I quickly walked over to her and plunged my hand in the now cold water and pulled the plug as the water rushed down the drain. A hug smile plastered across my mom’s face  .

“ you painted today?” she asked

“ umm yeah “ I lied

“ good im glad you are so talented that it was silly when you stopped , do you want me to take you to the store later to get some more paints?” she asked sweetly

“ no that’s okay mom but thanks, I have enough to last me for a little while” I said

She was being acted so sweet and happy when I told her that for once I felt guilty lying to her . I knew how much it hurt her when I stopped painting and now seeing her so happy made me feel like I had to paint.

“ okay well tell me when you do ill let you get back to your painting” she said petting my hair and kissing my forehead

“ okay” I said walking off towards my room

The first thing I did when I got into my room was go under my bed and pull out the boxes of painting stuff out from under my bed . I sat there for a few minutes and stared at it before grabbing a few paints and paint brushed along with my sketch book. I sat at my desk and squirted some paint onto my  pallet. I dipped my brush into the paint and swiped it across my paper for the first time in since I was 13 .

I stopped painting a few days after my parents told me I was adopted. At first I painted to cope with the pain I was feeling but after a while I just stopped. All I could think about when I was painting was the first thing I ever painted. I painted a picture of my mom and dad and me standing together holding hands. It’s a typical little kid painting but at the time I felt so betrayed  by my parents that thinking about that painting made me so mad. I remember them telling me about bringing me home from the hospital and about me being a baby but my mom never talked about when she was pregnant. There was no pregnancy pictures of my mom only ultrasound pictures and pictures of my mom holding me when I was a baby. I felt like the only reason I painted was because of my parents and how proud of me they always were when I painted something amazing. At the time I didn’t care if my parents were proud of me or not all I cared about was the fact that I had live my whole life with a family that were lying to me . and eventually I turned to self harm to stop myself from hurting and I guess iv never really stopped self harming or hurting .But right here right now painting felt so amazing. It felt so amazing to be able to create anything I could possibly imagine. I hadn’t realized how much I missed painting until now  . I had been painting for hours when I was interrupted by my mom opening my door.