The Unlikable (Book One) // h.s. [COMPLETE]

Chapter 36

"Here let's get some coffee," Harry grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the starbucks in Times Square. The air outside was freezing and it was snowing just a bit. Little white snowflakes layed in his nest of curls. I looked at his beauty as he searched the list on what he was going to get. His square jaw clenching with tension. My body involuntarily scooted closer to his and wrapped my cold arms around him. His sage eyes then looked down at me as I nuzzled my head into his shoulder.

"I love it here," I mumbled and his arm ran up the back of my coat and he kissed the top of my head.

"Wait until tonight. You'll really love it," he spoke as the line dwindled down. I looked up at him with curiosity pouring out of my eyes and he just smirked down at me.

"You're all about surprises, aren't you Mr. Styles?" I laughed as it was our turn to order. I pulled out my wallet as Harry ordered his drink and then he looked at me confused.

"Put that away. Callie, I'm your boyfriend. I pay for everything," he rolled his eyes angrily and ordered a drink for me. A different drink than I was going to get, but whatever. We waited at the side for a bit longer when they called our names to pick up the hot yumminess. 

We made our way out of the starbucks and I grabbed Harry's hand in mine on purpose to see if he would reject it or not. He looked at me for a split second as we walked in the masses of people and then turned his head to look in some shops pretending he didn't mind where my hand was. 

"Why don't you like holding my hand?" I asked abruptly staring into the side of his sour face.

"I don't hate it," he shrugged as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah you do," I squeezed his fingers in between mine.

"Let's not talk about it," he frowned and his brows pulled in together.

"No, let's talk about it."

"Callie," Harry looked at me and warned me with his eyes.

"Harry, I thought we were letting each other in...If this bothers you, I won't do it. But you need to tell me!" I spoke sternly removing my hand from his.

"It bothers me, ok?" he spoke as he stopped walking at the corner of the block. He pulled me in by my waist so we could speak as privately as possible. He leaned up against the building behind him and dropped his head at his shoulders and sighed in heavy anxiety build up.

"Harry, you know nothing will ever make me not want to be with you," I pulled his head back up and looked into his sage green eyes, fisting my hand in his curls at the side of his face.

"A long time ago before James, when I was still in England, I went looking for my mom." He looked into the crowd of people and told me another story about my favorite lost boy. "I found her...She was selling herself on the streets in London..." he dropped his head and then looked back up at me. "She was a prostitute, Calz. My father was a client. But that's not the point...the day I found her she knew exactly who I was and she took me to her shitty apartment that she lived in with four other hookers. They took me to rooms and...I watched them...I watched them do their jobs. For a few days I lived with them and they would grab me by the hand and usher me around with them. Some men would pay extra for me to be in the room and some even paid for me."

"Harry," I scooted closer to him and grabbed hold of his elbow like he would me. 

"Nothing ever happened though, when I figured out what was going on I stole my mom's stash of money and got on the train back to the orphanage." His eyes glossed over and I couldn't imagine how hard that must have been for him to talk to me about. "Anyways, hand holding just brings me back to them because no one ever showed me affection like that. And then it was ruined, so yeah." He made an awkward little nervous laugh.