therapy [h.s.]

Five

"This is pointless," I mumbled, as he pulled up to my house.

"No it isn't. I just want to see what your living environment is like. I'm not a creepy stalker Emma, I swear." He cracked a smile, but I ignored it.

"You sure seem like one."

"Let's just go in, okay?"

We climbed out of his car, and I used my key to get in, seeing as my parents weren't home.

"Here we are. It's nothing special really," I told him, dropping my bag by the door. He closed it behind him.

"It's nice," he complimented. "Can I see your room?"

"I think that's crossing a line Mr. Styles-"

"Please call me Harry." I tried not to cringe at the thought of calling him that. We weren't on a first name basis yet.

"I'd rather not show you to my room Harry."

"Please Emma, it's a part of my job." I rolled my eyes, knowing it wasn't.

I started for the stairs and he followed. I turned the corner into my room, and I immediately felt self conscious. He was the first guy to see my room, besides my dad of course.

"Cute," he said softly, a small smile on his face.

My room was pretty plain. The walls were white, as was the bed spread and my dresser. There were a few old band posters on the wall, but that was about it.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes.

He looked around, as if searching for something.

"What are you looking for? You probably won't find it in here." He sighed.

"I just don't get it."

"What?"

"Your room is bright, your house is nice. Everything seems fine, why are you so unhappy?"

"There are a lot of reasons Harry," I said quietly.

"Please elaborate."

"No," I answered firmly.

I heard the front door close, and the familiar click of high heels filled the house.

"Emma!" She shouted.

"Emma! I know you're here, you little b*tch."

Harry's expression changed as he heard my mother's screams.

"Upstairs!" I yelled to her.

"What the f*** are you doing up there?"

"Nothing mom!"

"Whose car is outside?"

"Mr. Styles'."

"Mr. Styles? He's here?"

"Yea, he's up here with me, mom."

She wasted no time in scrambling up the stairs, turning the corner, and practically falling into my room.

"Mr. Styles," my mother greeted, a smile plastered to her face. "So lovely to see you again."

"You too Mrs. Steven."

"What brings you here? Anything I can get for you?" I rolled my eyes at how thirsty she was.

"No I'm fine, just speaking with Emma. Could you give us a minute?" He asked, politely telling her to get out.

"Sure, call me if you need anything!" She shouted on her way out the door. He didn't say anything until the door was securely shut.

"I don't like the way she treats you," Harry said bluntly.

"Okay?" I shrugged. 

"Do your parents always treat you like this? Do they always yell at you and call you vulgar things?"

"Yea, I suppose I'm just used to it."

He sighed, and sat next to me on my bed, running his fingers through his hair.

"This isn't right Emma. A mother shouldn't speak to her daughter like that." It surprised me how seriously he took this, and how he wouldn't drop the subject.

"Yea, okay. But what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm taking you out of this place."

"Excuse me?"

"You'll be coming to live with me."

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hey it's been a while. hope you're still into the story. vote and comment!!

- Maddie xx