HEARTBEAT {h.s}

28

Harry Styles

"I hate you." She spat in my face.

I watched Niall and Liam begin to drag her away towards the piano room. She shrugged them off and they take it she's realised there's no escaping it now. She walked and sat on the black coach as Clare took a seat in the opposing armchair. Her eyes didn't leave me until Niall shut the white double doors to that room allowing her privacy. The foyer went silent. Niall stretched his neck and Liam sighed, both of them shaking their heads as they travel back to the gym. I just wanted to help. I stand still, her words echoing through my mind on repeat.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

She hates me.

♥ ♥ ♥

Arabella Webber

"It's been 15 minutes and you haven't spoken." Clare points out.

"Mm." I hum like I'm generally thinking about what to say but really I'm just thinking about Harry's face when I screamed at him and his audacity to put me through this. "I've done therapy before, you know? I know how this works."

She wiggles slightly into her chair to sit straighter and I see a small smile on her face like she's glad I've cracked. Oh, how disappointed she'll be. "Oh? And how does it work?" She asks, her pen resting in her hand prepared to scribble notes.

"Well, you may ask why I'm not fond of therapy." I lean my elbows on my knees, "Then we'll move on to why I went into therapy in the first place which leads to childhood trauma and how it's unconsciously visible in the decisions I make and the things I feel." I lay a hand on my chest and tilt my head sarcastically, but I feel my erratic heartbeat under my palm. "Then, you'll find out how crappy my parents' marriage is at the moment and how I met Harry and the boys which has caused even more trauma. Perhaps you'll even go on to diagnose - wouldn't that just be the cherry on top of the cake!" I rant.

"It could go that way," She nods and I won't lie, it shocks me a little. "Or we could just talk about what you want to. We don't have to dive into heavy topics just yet."