Runaway (h.s)

two

Ella

Sitting in in a large wedding dress in the lounge of Harry's loft apartment made me feel ridiculous. My dress appeared to take up half the space in his lounge.

The longer I waited as Harry rampaged through his apartment to find me a spare outfit the more insecure I felt in this dress. The skintight bodice which once appeared to cinch my waist now restricted my breathing and my exposed arms suddenly appeared bigger than before. What was then a confident move to get over my insecurities for my wedding, turned my dream dress into a nightmare. As seconds felt like minutes my heart pounded in my chest, screaming for me to get out of this skintight dress.

"I've found some stuff" Harry announced entering the lounge, holding multiple T-shirts, joggers and shorts which he thought should fit me. "The bathroom is just to the right."

I nodded my head, unable to speak. My confidence disappeared the longer I stayed in this dress and Harry seemed to notice the change in atmosphere because he didn't say anything and tried to keep himself busy.

Harry's apartment was easy to navigate. Although the place was small it wasn't cramped but what did surprise me was the lack of personal belongings in this place. Even in his bathroom there wasn't much, a toothbrush and shower gel. For a man with such good hair thought he'd at least use conditioner.

Surprisingly, Harry's clothes fit me. Some even oversized which was a bit shocking considering Harry is on the lean side. I hanged my wedding dress in the bathroom before going back to the lounge to where Harry was waiting for me.

"So do tell" he started as soon as I walked in. "Who's the dickhead and what did he do to make you run away?"

I almost laughed, if only he knew I'm the dickhead who can never make any concise decision.

"Honestly? He's perfect" I sigh.

I guess this wasn't the answer Harry was expecting because instantly his eyebrows knitted in confusion. "So why?" He asked with genuine curiosity.

"I guess he's just not perfect for me." I gave him a small smile, sitting down on the sofa next to him and pulling my legs up to my chest. "It's not even that, I had this realisation that I can't spend the rest of my life with someone so boring"

"Ouch" Harry laughed, I'm glad he finds my misery funny. "Maybe don't tell that to him"

"Don't worry I'll spear his feelings." I managed a small laugh.

"So what's boring guy's name then?" Harry asked, looking through a stack of takeout menus laying across coffee table.

"Damien Fields"

Harry physically froze hearing the name escapee my lips. However this only lasted few seconds, a change so quick you could only notice if you're paying close attention. He returned to looking at the menus. "Yea heard of him, the lads bit dim you dodged a billet there"

"Wait you know Damien?" I asked, skipping over the part where he insulted my almost husband.

"Nah just doing some business with his father." He answered blankly, almost as if he hoped I'd drop the topic.

"Oh? Are you into stocks and shit? I thought they were going into some trading?" I asked, genuinely curious. Damien never spoke of what he actually does at his job, always just complaining how tired it was making him.

"You could say that" Harry deadpanned. Getting any information or gossip out of him was really impossible.

"So what do you actually do-"

"Stop fucking talking" he suddenly snapped, making me freeze. "Is this 21 fucking questions?"

I couldn't help but stare at his annoyed expression. I was only making conversation since we have a topic in common I wasn't aware it was a sensitive subject. "Sorry" I muttered. I don't need another person angry with me tonight, especially when that person is providing me with shelter.

After a few minutes of awkward silence Harry cleared his throat. "I'll go down to the pizza place down the street, anything else you want?" His voice was now calm which was a strange contrast to his annoyed tone earlier.

"No I'm okay" I answered still unsure how to approach him after the earlier conversation.

"Kay be back in a few" he nodded his head before grabbing a jacket and keys and heading out his door.

As soon as he left relief washed over me. I don't know why I agreed to stay with him, I could have just slept on the park bench or something. The only thing I managed to grab with me during my grand escape was my phone but i decided to turn it off for the time being as it wouldn't stop buzzing with calls and texts from Damien and my father.

I knew Damien was angry with me but I also knew my dad was angrier. He really was hoping for this marriage to happen to solidify the ties between his business and the Fields corporation. It seems like to my father this may have just been a business deal but I truly hoped this wasn't the case.

What father encourages their 20 year old daughter to get married? I can't even drink legally at my own wedding.

I don't need to think about this now. I needed a plan of action. I need to somehow get to my apartment without actually bumping into Damien which is hard considering I don't have the keys. I also need new clothes I can't just turn up in Harry's clothes, I don't need Damien thinking Harry is the reason I run away from the alter. All this thinking was really giving me a migraine.

Just as I was about to get up and fetch myself a glass of water, I heard the front door slam open against the wall as a unfamiliar voice boomed through the apartment. "Oi Styles! You owe me money you little wanker!"

This really wasn't about to happen, did I get myself involved in some British gang affair?

I pinch my eyes shut and my hands balled into fist. I could feel my nails digging into the skin of my palms. What if Harry is some dealer? Or actually into some trafficking shit?

"Styles I swear to fucking god Zayn will have my head - oh sorry darling didn't see you there" the voice decreased in volume as he acknowledged my existence. Heavy footsteps began making their way towards me.

It took all the courage I had in me to open my eyes, which was instantly a regret as I was met with a pair of pale blue eyes and a face directly in front of mine, millimetres away.

I did the only thing which seemed reasonable at the time. I screamed.

However, my scream was short lived as a hand clamped down on my mouth, muffling my screams. My eyes widen in panic but I couldn't move my body. I was paralysed with fear.

"Now darling no need to scream" the thick Irish accent penetrated each word he spoke. A smirk appeared on his lips as he noticed my eyes frantically searching around the room, hoping Harry could waltz through the door and save me. Yet again.

"If I remove my hand" he paused, his eyes making direct eye contact with my panicked ones "do you promise not to scream?"

I slowly nodded my head, tears welling up in my eyes. He paused for a second, assessing the situation before removing his hand from my mouth. And just like that, I dashed towards the door of the apartment hoping to escape whatever mess I got myself into again.

"Oh for fucks sake" I heard the Irish groan behind me.

I just needed a few more seconds before I will be safe - away from this shit show. However God has other plans for me as I felt myself being pulled back. Just as I was about to call for help a sudden sharp pain erupted at the back of my head and everything went blank.