Darling (Harry Styles)

chap 07

ANNABELLE WILCOX
Louis' House

"Are you kidding me, Annabelle?" Jacob threw a glass vase onto the living room floor, directly in front of my feet as I sat at the coffee table obediently.

Something went wrong at work today, so he decided to go out drinking afterwards with his friends. I texted him a million times wondering and worrying about where he was, but I never got a reply.

And in my worry, I had forgotten completely to make dinner for him. I didn't even make dinner for myself. So now, I face the harsh consequences.

Honestly, I just think he wants to get his anger out on something.

"J.. I-I'm sorry.. I told you a million times I was sorry." I cried out of fear, but I knew he only enjoyed it more.

I wish I could turn off my fear, just so I didn't have to give him the satisfaction, but I couldn't bring myself too. I was too weak now.

Completely and utterly weak is all I was under his haunting eyes.

He lifted my chin to look him in the eyes with his pointer finger, peering down at me in pure disgust. "I don't care if you're fucking sorry, Annabelle, you couldn't do one simple task. Even after all I do for you."

Jacob threw my face to the side roughly, laughing dryly as he paced in front of me, blocking the light the TV was shining into the dark room.

"I mean, really, is it so hard to make one meal, Annabelle? You sit here all day by yourself, doing absolutely nothing yet you—"

I interrupt, though I really know I shouldn't. "Y-you told me you wanted me home all day.."

He seethes, slapping me straight across the face. "Don't fucking interrupt me! I don't know what the fuck you think that was, but never—ever—try to prove me wrong again. Okay, my love?"

The sweet nickname escapes his lips the same way venom would, hurting me more than I want it to. It hurts because I know that he's using the nickname to strike a certain loving chord inside of me and each and every time—it works.

I nod slowly, looking down at the ground meekly. "O-okay."

"Anyways," he continues in repetition and something inside of me tells me to pinch myself, but I'm too afraid, "you still can't make me one goddamn meal. And after all I do for you too.."

I can feel his eyes burning into me as he cracks his knuckles, "Look—I think we both know that I need to let out some anger after what you've done to me. So.. do you mind?"

I physically feel my heart shatter. I cry even more. I can't stop.

He sighs, stepping forward and running his calloused fingers through my dark hair. "Shh.. the bruises will go away soon. Don't you want me to be happy, Annabelle?"

"Y-yes." I choke out, "But, p-please, J.. not again."

Jacob laughs, bringing his fist back. "Just imagine you're on the beach or something. Let me be happy, please Annabelle. And for god's sake, stop fucking crying."