Sympathy for the Devil | harry styles

Chapter 9

  "You're everything I thought you never were
And nothing like I thought you could've been
But still you live inside of me
So tell me how is that..."

Beyonce Knowles- Broken hearted girl

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It seemed that the noise grew louder and louder, messing with her head, bringing her back into reality. Crushing everything down on her. Harry's eyes were wide and incredibly green, the shade she always loved to see, so bright and sparkly.

But they were wide from surprise, from sudden realisation. What the hell had he done? Why the hell was his phone ringing wildly?

It was shocking for Angela, shaking her insides, stealing the peace away from her. The feeling she only felt with him. The reality was a bitch, she just realized that.

"Answer the phone," she breathed, sitting up in the bed and covering herself with a sheet under her. His eyes were still wide and confused, Adam's apple bobbing from nervousness.

He knew who was calling him. He knew the only one person who called him at night to see if he was okay. Even when he didn't care about the person, he felt guilty.

Nodding, he supported himself with his huge hands on the mattress and pushed himself back to stand up, digging in his back pocket for the phone. The vibrations of the phone buzzed on his sweaty palm and he looked at the screen, saying 'I knew it' in himself before he pressed the green headphone on the screen and answered the call.

She was worried.

"Where are you?" her voice was barely audible and he could sense that she was dying inside.

"Home," he answered coldly, looking down at Angela's pale face and scared Bambi eyes. He didn't care at all. He didn't care that he made two girls worried.

"Wow, really? Okay Harry," Barbara hissed on the other side of the line, probably running her fingers through that long, blonde hair of hers.

"Don't. Talk. To. Me. Like. That," Harry growled slowly and deeply, jaw clenching and eyes still looking down at his Angel.

"You can't fucking tell me what to do!" Barbara yelled and Harry's anger grew bigger. His nostrils flared and eyebrows knitted together, the creases forming on his forehead. Angela's eyes widened and she backed away a little, clutching the sheet to herself and looking at him with scared eyes.

"Oh really?" He sounded calm. Too calm. "Do you remember what happened the last time you said that?" Harry hissed in the phone, teeth gritting because he knew that she remembered. She remembered the slap she had received from him, her arse being spanked violently by him.

"I-I..."

"That's right. I'll see you tomorrow."
And with that, he hung up and threw the phone beside Angela's body, never taking his eyes off her. Angela's scared eyes were clouded with jealousy and anger. Looking up at him with spite, she clenched her jaw and stood up, the sheet still wrapped around her.

"What have you done to her, huh?"

"Calm down," Harry warned her in a calm tone.

"Guess what Harry?" Angela spoke with fake enthusiasm, "I won't," she growled.

She felt sick of his games, sick of his touches and fake words. Everything was fake when he belonged to the other girl, using Angela's innocence and naivety to get what he wanted.

"I'm losing my patience, Angela. Go back to bed," he warned her again, the blood boiling inside of him. He wouldn't be able to control himself soon.