Our Moments (A One Direction Fan Fiction)

Chapter Four: Rebekah Danvers

I was running for the millionth time in my life, my small bag of belongings hanging loosely from my shoulder. It was practically a weekly routine for me, every time I would get a new foster home my first instinct would be to run as soon as things got tough. I was a coward and I knew it, but honestly I didn't care, each new death threat scaring me more than the last.

This time I doubted I would make it very far though, my body aching from the abuse I had just received. I could taste the blood dripping from my split lip, but I could barely see anything through the tears that streamed down my face as I turned the corner in the small Holmes Chapel neighborhood. I felt hands grab onto my shoulders and let out a loud shriek in my fear.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." I looked up into the comforting green eyes, familiar green eyes of an older woman with brown hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She was in sweats and a tank top, covered by a jacket. She had a worried look in those eyes, holding onto my shoulders in a comforting manner. My lip began to tremble again, tears wanting to break loose for the millionth time at the sight of one woman. "Are you okay, love?"

Her accent was thicker than my own but it was easy to hear her words, soothing to me. I instantly shook my head not wanting to seem rude.

"Come on. It's freezing out here. Why don't we get you somewhere to warm up?" I nodded, letting this strange woman lead me down the road before we stopped in front of a large, beautiful house, lit with Christmas lights all over. I smiled slightly at the glamorous building, slightly amazed at it, albeit I had seen bigger. But the simplicity of the house made it even prettier. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"R-Rebekah, but I prefer Bekah." I managed to stutter it out as she led me over the threshold into the warm kitchen, finished with steel appliances.

"Well, Bekah, I'm Anne. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." I gave her a sheepish smile, plopping down on the chair she pulled out for me. In a slightly elegant way.

"Okay. I'll go make the tea. How much sugar?"

"I'm fine. I don't really like tea." Truthfully, I had never had tea before but I wasn't about to tell her that. Six more months, I reminded myself. Then, u would legally be an adult and out of the foster program for good.

"That's fine. So, Bekah, can you tell me what happened?" At that point, I was wishing I would've asked for tea. I took a deep breath, watching as she elegantly folded herself down into the chair next to me.

"It wasn't anything really. Just foster care."

It was more than what I was letting on though.

"Do you need somewhere to stay?" She was giving me a sympathetic look, as if knowing I wasn't telling her everything.

"If you don't mind."

"Of course not, love." I then stared at her familiar features again. The brown hair a shade lighter than my own, the green eyes almost an exact replica to mine. I felt as if I knew her my whole life, felt comfortable around her. "C'mon. You can sleep in my son's room. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He's... out of town for a bit. Should be back later this week."

I nodded, hopping up and following her to the staircase, hands shaking slightly as we ascended, each step taking everything in me not to just turn around and run. She opened up the door, revealing dark blue walls and a white carpet. The bed was a sky blue and looked so comfotable I just wanted to fall under its covers and pass out. Anne walked forward opening the second drawer of the dresser and pulling out an old T-shirt from some bakery and boxer shorts.

"Here. You can wear these. I'm sure he won't mind." I nodded, watching as she left. I plopped my bag down on the top of the dresser and slipping into the outfit, my mind holding the captured picture of her face and the look she gave me. It was an affectionate one, as if she loved me like a daughter.

Glancing at the wall, I realized something. Staring down at me from a picture on the wall was none other than Harry Styles. And then eventually, after a very slow brain functioning, it hit me.

I was in Harry Styles' bedroom.