Tribulation [h.s]

56

"You're in my DNA, I can't keep away no matter how hard I try
You're runnin' through my veins, something I can't change
That's the same reason why we're
Further apart, the closer that we are."

-

Harry's POV

"I don't trust her."

Niall pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his hands. He offers it to me, and I accept, doing the same, leaving the once white cloth stained red. I get off as much blood as possible, but it's under my nails and dried between my fingers. When I'm done, I toss the towel back to Niall, and he pockets it again.

"She doesn't want to hurt anyone," is my response as I reach down in my pocket and pull out my Marlboro cigarettes. I offer Niall one, and he nods and agrees; I help him light his cigarette before he perches it between his lips. I follow suit and light one for myself.

"I never liked hurting people, but I've done it. I do it." Niall counters, knowing damn well that I can't argue with that.

He's right.

"I know that you like her," Niall releases a breath, smoke filtering out his mouth and nose. "But I don't trust her. She hides so much, it feels like-" his face scrunches together. "I feel like she has two sides to her. I never know what to expect."

Oddly enough, I know what he's trying to say. Allie was like an enigma to me, especially when we first met. Frankly, she still is. I'm starting to think the closer we get, the further apart we really are. The idea of that hurts me, a sharp pain stinging my chest. I know, Allie, but do I really? I take a deep breath, looking down at my cigarette. I already knew the answer to that question.

Who am I to complain, though? It's not like I'm an open book, either.

The only way I could relieve Niall's panic was to tell him what I told myself when I realized things weren't adding up either. "She's running from something," I flick the cigarettes, and ash falls to the ground. I take another scorching hit. "I trust her because, yeah, I trust her heart. But, more than anything, I trust her fear."

Fear is an effective tool. It's powerful. Fear can destroy the soul of an individual — and the soul of a people. It's brought civilizations to their knees. Hell, I've seen my father bend people to his will with fear alone.

However, fear is also a great motivator, and limits don't exist when people get desperate.

"Fear will make people do crazy things."

"It does," I message my bruised knuckles a bit. "But, I trust her intentions. She won't hurt anyone."

A few months ago, intentions would have meant nothing to me. Fuck intentions. People still die. People still suffer. Intentions are worthless and hold no value to me, the world, or whatever God people pray to.

But that was a few months ago.

Since Allie came into my life, things have changed. When I'm around her, I see how much she's hurting. She's always looking over her shoulder and is constantly on high alert. Often, she whimpers in the night as she's consumed with nightmares. She avoids touch like the plague and tries to stay invisible.

I see how ashamed she is of herself – her beautiful mind and body – and how guilt, pain, and fear have shaped her into the woman she is today.

Yet, despite her pain, she smiles. She loves. She moves forward, and that makes her beautiful to me. I respect her; I adore her more than she'll probably ever know.