102; harry styles (hiatus)

1.1.

"Let go of me," I whisper, looking at him dead serious.

A smile appears on his pink lips as a little laugh escapes his throat, almost mockingly. He shakes his head, staring at me like his somewhat confused at what I just uttered.

"But baby, I thought you like it rough..." His eyes darken as his smirk flies away, leaving me alone with a stranger, a boy I once thought I knew. He never called me that. I've never seen him act this way.

I never break eye contact, feeling as determined and confident as ever. "I said let go of me, Louis."

In response, his grip turns stronger. I can already feel the unwelcoming bruises, "People always said shit about you and I've never listened, you know? But now I'm realising that you actually are a bit-"

That's it. Once? I can take once. but twice? Hell no.
Next thing I know, I'm hitting his crotch with my knee. Hard. Really hard. I'm not a big fan of violence but sadly, this is the only way women have to defend ourselves, words are not enough when it comes to some boys. Never knew I could actually hit someone like that until now.

He falls to the ground holding himself and whining in pain. I kneel beside his body, staring right into him.

"Listen, baby, I am the only one allow to call myself a bitch, got it?" I don't know if he's ignoring me or if he's really hurt but he never replies as he tries to sit. "Now, get up and get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna call the cops. I'm not shitting around this time, Louis." I stand up and walk straight to my bedroom, opening the door only to find Jennifer holding her face as she cries. Too late for that, sweetie. I don't even feel sorry. "I want you both out of my house. Now."

This might be a little dramatic but, aside from the fact that I'm just playing around with the whole 'calling-the-cops' thing, I don't really give a shit anymore. Here's a little fact about me: if you do shit to me, you're out of my life in that exact moment. I don't care if you're family or my closest friend. I care about my health and I won't let anyone ruin myself. I used to ignore a lot of shit people did because 'I didn't want to be alone'. I let them walk on me, I let them used me. I'm not that girl anymore. I care about myself now. I've been there and I don't ever want to go back.

She looks at me with sad and guilty eyes but I just turn around and head back to the kitchen, slowly resting my back against the uncomfortable wall. This place doesn't feel like a home anymore.
I can be a fucking rock when it comes to this type of things but deep down I'm too fragile. Most of the time, I just suffer in silence.

I can't believe she did this. I've known her since we were in middle school, I purely trusted her. I've been there for her when she needed me and also when she didn't. She knew I was confused about Louis but she decided to got and sleep with him anyways. On my fucking bed. It sounds so gross.

I suddenly feel sick; my head is so heavy and I'm starting to feel empty now. That's when I know I'm not angry anymore, I'm hurt. I really am.

I need air. I need air. I need air.

No, no, no. My lungs feel like they're being pressed against my bones and i immediatly have trouble breathing. I take my coat off and walk to the door.

"Lola? What's wrong?" I ignore a confused Louis, not wanting to face him or Jennifer again as I run t the staircase.

I know what this is. I know.

I almoat trip when I reach the end of the staircase. I run to the street, I need to get the hell out of there. I'm sweating and it's freezing outside.
I wrap my cold hands around my neck, trying to feel the rate of my beatings.

Poom-poom, poom-poom, poom-poom.

I haven't suffered one of these in so long, I've forgotten what it felt like.
I can feel the curious stares but I ignore them as I try to focus on controlling my breathing.

I just have to embrace this, I have to let it happen. Don't fight it, Lola. Don't fight it.
Flashes of my dad leaving me fill my mind, then I see Jennifer and Louis in my bed. And it all plays again and again and again. I can't control this.

I close my eyes, trying to stop the memories but nothing seems to work. I rest my back against the wall of some restaurant and lean my body down, holding my knees with my hands as if I were about to throw up. I can hear all the whispers of the people walking past me but none of them actually stops to see what's wrong or help me.

I can't breath. I feel my heart pumping faster, I can hear it beating in my ears. My head is so heavy, if I would sit down I wouldn't be able to stand up again, I know.

A pair of hands hold my shoulders, "Lola, Lola, love. Look at me. What's wrong?"

I look up and find the boy that's been haunting me since he moved here.

"I- I can't... Can't!" I gesture my nose and neck, trying to explain that I'm having a panic attack and I can't breath.

"I need you to follow my breathing, okay? Do as I say," I fastly nod, the panic is filling my eyes. "Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale..." He keeps going for what feels like an eternity and I copy his actions. "Give me your hand," I don't know how to explain to him that I can't indicate my brain to move my hand so he just grabs it and presses it against his chest. "Do you feel that?" I concentrate and feel his heartbeats. They're slow, not fast and rushed like mine.

It feels nice.

He smiles a little when he notices that I'm still looking at his hand on mine. I look up at him, staring at his eyes. So calm and pretty. I realise that as stupid as it sounds, I see everything I like in his eyes. Green is the color of nature and I'm fascinated by everything that involves: animals, the sky, the ground, trees, mountains, water, everything.

Thinking about it makes my heart slow down, all because of his eyes. I can't believe they've actually helped me stop my panic attack.

I feel my organism change its pace, suddenly relaxing. I'm not sweating anymore, which makes me realise that it's freezing.

He sees that I'm a lot better when I speak, "It's fucking cold!"

He chuckles, "That's what I thought when I saw out here wearing a bloody shirt,"

He takes his coat off, offering it to me. "Harry, god, you don't have to be a gentlemen all the time,"

He rolls his eyes and puts his coat on my shoulders. "It's what my momma taught me,"

I know this us how he genuinely is like. That's what I like about him, he's always so transparent. There's no hiding or faking, he's just a nice person.

"Thank you, Harry" I wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest. He quickly wraps his arms around my body, kissing the top of my head.

Oh, my poor little heart.

I inhale his sweet fragrance as I close my eyes, getting comfortable in this position. Can I stay like this forever?

"Let's go home," He slowly whispers with that tender voice of him.

I don't know what he means by home but I'm taking it if it comes from this kind and caring man.

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yooooo!
it's been so long since i've last uploaded this fic, like literally a year. I am not even gonna try to apologize. enjoy this cute little chapter!

thanks for 11k reads, it blowns my mind!

ps: can we all just appreciate the fact that harry actually helped someone who was having a panic attack???? this is based on real life