Just A Personal Assistant

forty - a past catching up

Trigger Warning: Physical abuse. If you're not into it you may skip

Track:
Favorite Crime - Olivia Rodrigo

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"Our fast runs faster than is but your feet guided by the future brings you where you're supposed to be" - me!!

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"

Oh my... my... my" a familiar voice said in a condenseding tone, Harry looked up as he heard the familiar voice and saw the same nightmare he had dreat of for the past 2 years "Well isnt this a pleasant surprise, my dear dear, Harry Styles", everyone looked at Harry and he gulped before saying the name he had feared of saying again

"Byron"

Pain

Sorrow

Guilt

Disgust

Sick

Scared

Helpless

Broken

Stuck

Sadness

Dull

Those were the few words out of a thousand that could describe how he felt when he saw those striking grey eyes. He suddenly felt as if he couldn't move. As if somehow he went back to being that scared little kid in the backyard.

*Start of flashback*

"Let go of me!" Harry shouted as he tried to wriggle out of Byron's hands that was pulling harshly on his hair.

Byron, as the biggest homophobe, caught Harry snuggling with a guy called Kalus. As soon as the sight met his eyes, he flared up. He threw the scared and trembling Kalus out of the house and started pulling Harry to the backyard.

"No! Not until I bend you back straight, fag!" Byron said with venom coming out of each hurtful words. He pulled Harry's hair back causing the young boy to look up at Byron on his knees. "After what I do to you, you won't be able to look at any boys again the same way again.".

Harry whimpered loudly. Million possibilities running on his about what Byron will do to him.

He shouted and wriggled, trying to pry Byron away but nothing helped.

He heard the the back door open and soon enough, he felt the ground hit him. Byron kicked him in the torso making him grunt in pain.

"Please stop" he whispered, his voice hoarse from all the shouting and crying.,

"Look at you. Like a p*ssy. Can't even take a hit!" the grey eyed man said before spitting on Harry and kicking him again. The next blow was on his face, then on his feet and his torso again.

15 blows.

Tens of thousands of tears.

Harry couldn't even move. He was stuck in the same position as he heard footsteps shuffling away, then next was the hose untangling and the faucet connected to it open at the highest volume.

He tried to stand up knowing what will happen next but as soon as he propped an elbow to help him, a blow was landed on his chest making him fall again. Byron laughed loudly like a maniac.