After Winter - Harry Styles [Wattys 2013]

Chapter Five

~Emily~ 

"What the hell, happened, Harry?"

"Why is Emily's foot and hand bleeding?"

"Why did I hear shouting and a glass breaking up in your room?!"

"Why was she crying?"

"Why did she walk out?"

"Why did-"

"GUYS!"  I shouted, causing the whole room to be engulfed in silence. They were staring at me wide-eyed, obviously taken aback by the tone of my voice. My dad had left moments ago to get the first-aid kit back at our house. 

When we went back home, the music had died down, the trash had been cleaned, and everyone was sitting on the couch with worried faces all around. It was like a disease, honestly. Like, everyone was spreading the worried expression on their faces. It was creepy, to be honest.

On the way here, I already visioned the questions they were going to fire up once we stepped inside. True enough, my vision was right. Once they heard the door creak open, they all jolted up, frowns creasing as they approached us quickly, examining the gash on my forearm and the dripping blood from underneath my left foot. It all sent questions firing up like hell.

I wasn't ready to answer anything as of the moment. All I really wanted to do was rest, get my wounds healed, and finally get some good old sleep. But of course, fate had some other plans. "Emily, honey. We won't let you leave unless you actually tell us what happened." Anne said worriedly, her lips pouting, eyes clouded in confusion.

I looked back up to Harry, who had an anxious look in his face. He was probably nervous about what their reaction would be after they'd found out Harry had caused the wounds on my body. It was nerve-wracking, honestly. I didn't want him to be in trouble because of this. "I-It's my fault..." I said, which caused everyone to gasp in shock and utter surprise. I even felt Harry tense as the words rolled off my tongue.

"Wha...How did this happen, Ems?" A worried, blonde boy came rushing up to me, cupping my cheek as he examined the wounds once more. I winced as he ran a finger through the gash on my forearm, his senses being alarmed as he saw my pained expression.

I smiled an apologetic smile at him, "I...I kind of pissed Harry off. I bumped the lampshade whilst we were arguing. That's why it broke. I accidentally took a step back, where the broken shards were, that's why I have the wound on my foot." I stuttered, not being able to look them in the eye. Any smart person would never buy my story. But I hoped they did.

"I don't believe you." The high voice of a certain Doncaster boy stood out from the now massive crowd that approached me. He walked up to me, a massive frown on his face. "I've known you for three years, Em. I know when you're lying. Your fingers twitch when you lie." He says sternly. I've been so focused on protecting Harry from the judgemental guests in the house currently that I forgot there were some people who knew about my twitching habits.

But I refused to give in and tell everyone the truth. So I forcefully shook my head, telling them that all i said was true before I heaved a long sigh. "Guys, can we keep the interrogation tomorrow? I'm... tired." I mutter softly, audible enough for Harry, Niall, and Louis to hear. The others nod as they make their way through the living and dining area, pretending as if nothing just happened moments ago.

Harry settled me to Gemma's room, placing me gently on the plush mattress as he left the room temporarily to get the first-aid kit from my dad, who was probably worried hell as well. He entered again shortly, the pack tightly clasped with his right hand as he lowered down in front of me, fishing out a few cotton balls, bandages, and the best part. Isopropyl Alcohol. In other words, painful death.