Fate (h.s.au)

XVII

I try to process what's going on in my mind as I look at Harry. My eyes have not strayed from him since I woke up. We hadn't moves since last night, still resting in the same position. His forehead is pressed on mine and my hand is still held in his.

My lips press together, but I draw my lower lip between my teeth. There is something about having the person you've hated save your life. It clicked in my brain that he's not all that bad. He helped me when I needed someone.

If he wasn't there, I don't want to know what would have happened.

My hand lets go of his and I get up, trying not to wake him. I move out of the room and I walk to the kitchen, getting breakfast ready. As I gather ingredients to make something, I start to mix and combine them in a bowl. I plug in my phone while the pan is heating, trying to charge the dead battery.

I pour batter on the pan and I plate up pancakes as they're ready, turning to set them on the table. As I look up, Harry's looking at me from the doorway and he smiles.

"Do you want chocolate chips or blueberries?" I ask, and he shakes his head.

"I'm alright. As long as you didn't put anything bad in them," he tries to tease. I just lean my hands on the counter, watching as the other pancake cooks.

"Guess you'll have to try to find out," I say, turning to look at him. I smile, making him reciprocate the gesture. I take a seat across from him and we start to eat, his eyes looking at me the entire time.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and I tell him I am.

"I wanted to do something to thank you," I explain, trying to justify my reason as to why I made him breakfast. I wanted to, but I don't want to make it that obvious.

"Well I appreciate the gesture," he tells me, winking my way. I choose to ignore it and take a bite of my pancakes, my phone buzzing on the counter. I lean over and grab it, seeing a message from Brenna. She won't be home the rest of the day and I just say 'okay'. Then I scroll through the damn near 100 messages from Harry.

"Missed me much?" I ask, showing him my phone.

"Maybe if you picked up your phone, or charged it, that wouldn't have happened," he tells me, his mouth full of pancakes. I just frown at him, telling him he's disgusting.

"I'm in the middle of eating. I'm not going to let you fucking make fun of me," he retorts, his amused expression making me smile.

"I didn't want to talk to you," I say simply, and he throws his arms up.

"Why?" he asks, his eyes wide in interest. I don't necessarily want to tell him that he's fucking with my emotions. Harry's starting to leave me with no choice.

"Because I felt weird," I tell him, his arms moving to cross on the table. His muscles flex and his lack of shirt makes it even more noticeable.

"Weird how?" he tests, not wanting to get his hopes up. My lips press together and I pull my leg up on the chair to rest my chin on my knee.

"I told you about my parents. I don't do that," I say, his eyes not wandering away from me.

"I'm glad you did, though. I shared a little about myself to you," he says, trying to ease my mind. There's a part of me that knows Harry is just trying to get me to open up more, but I don't think I can. I've worked very hard to build up my walls; I'd be a fool to let them down easily.

I take another bite of my food and Harry stands up. I watch him walk to my side of the table and he takes a seat.

"Lina, I'm not going anywhere," he tells me, and I take a rather aggressive bite of food in response. I already knew that he wasn't going to leave. It's just the thought of someone staying around is weird.

"I'm not used to that," I say, his hand moving to rest on my thigh. I meet his gaze. My eyes divert to his lips for a split second and I look away. I reach for the packet of cigarettes on the table and open them.

"I'm still adjusting to this too, you know. I've never been so fucking angry before you came along," he tells me as I light up. I hand the pack to him.

"That's bullshit and you know it," I tell him, his eyebrows furrowing. "The amount of times I've endured punches and cuts, not to mention scars, from you, is damn near an infinite number."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" he yells. "I've never laid a hand on you!"

I stand up and look down at him. "I get punched in the face, when you get punched in the face! I get scraped, bruised knuckles when you do! You've been angry before, so don't try to tell me I make you angrier than ever!" I spit in his face, his body standing up. His nose nearly touches mine the minute he walks me back into a wall.

Harry may be bigger than me, but this will never intimidate me.

"I didn't fucking know that you got hurt too! I learned that the minute I beat up some asshole you took home! And I get angry at you because you're fucking stubborn!" he tells me, moving backwards to put the cigarette in his lips.

"And you're a fucking dick!" I yell back at him, his hand grabbing my wrist as I lift it to place the cigarette in my mouth.

"Do you understand what it fucking takes to be in my shoes?! You don't fucking listen!" he tells me, getting angrier by the second. He throws his cigarette in the sink and walks me back into the wall again.

"And you don't fucking control me!" I spit back, his hand tightening around my wrist. He takes the cigarette from my hand and throws it in the sink.

"What the fuck?!" I yell, moving to grab it out. Harry nearly rips my arm out of my body as he pulls me back, pressing me onto the wall. His hands press my wrists beside my head, my eyes glaring at him.

"You're a living pain in my ass," he says lowly, my lips releasing a groan. The one thing I hate is how much stronger he is than me. If I were stronger, he'd be on the floor and I'd be kicking his ass right now.

"And you're an asshole," I respond back, his hands releasing mine. "You don't get to pin me to a wall every time you're pissed at me."

He stands still, his body still in front of mine. I take the opportunity to move away from him, walking to the sink. I toss the wet cigarettes in the trash and look over my shoulder. Harry hasn't moved; his body is still facing the wall.

I don't say anything, cleaning up the dishes I used this morning. My hands set the clean dishes on the rack beside the sink, my hand shutting the water off.

A hand wraps around the back of my neck and I'm forced to turn around. The minute I face Harry, his forehead presses to mine and I feel his breath on my lips. My lips part, my eyes parted so I see his lips. Then my eyes trail to look up, his green eyes dark.

His hand is wrapped tightly around my neck, thumb moving to rest on my chin and force my head to tilt up.

"Don't fucking piss me off," he whispers, his lips nearly touching mine. For once, I feel useless. The will to fight back is gone right now and stand emotionless in front of him.

"I saved your life last night. The lease you can fucking do is respect me," he says through his teeth. My lips press tightly together and I reach up, pressing my hands to his chest. Quickly, I shove him back and glare at him. I'm done with him.

"Get the fuck out of my house," I say, not loud enough for it to be a yell. He stares at me, taking a step back. But he turns and walks away. I'm unable to look because I have no idea what is going on in my mind.

I hear the door slam not long after and I take a step back, sliding down the wall. My eyes stare into nothing; not knowing what to do. My heart hammers in my chest knowing that Harry is trying, but I also can't let him walk over me the way he expects to. I'm too strong for that.