Boys like you *Harry Styles*

Chapter 17

Scarlet's P.O.V

I awoke feeling broken and bruised. The events of last night still fresh in my mind. All I could see was blood, the blood I had to scrub off of my kitchen walls after I had put a weak Harry to bed. I was putting on a front. I was continuing to smile whilst pretending I was fine, but I'm not. My life has changed rapidly these past few months. I went from being invisible, to being wanted, wanted dead. It's not dying that I'm afraid of. In fact, I've always imagined death to be rather peaceful. But now, now I have so much to live for. I have friends and family. I have...Harry. My family knew Harry had stayed the night, but they didn't know why. I couldn't tell them. I didn't want them to be dragged into this. I couldn't risk loosing anyone else.

I let out a loud yawn as I turned onto my side. As my eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of light they caught sight of a peacefully sleeping Harry. Reaching my hand out I allowed my fingers to gently trace his features. He truly was breathtaking, even if he was beaten black and blue - just like I was a short time ago. He stirred and subconsciously pulled me closer, but he did not wake, and I was glad. I liked seeing him like this. I liked seeing him peaceful. I liked seeing him vulnerable. It showed me that what they said wasn't true. It showed me that despite what people say, Harry does have a heart. I could hear it pound against his chest whenever he inhaled my scent, and I could feel it whenever he pulled me close. I could feel it now. I could feel it even when he wasn't around. Harry had haunted my dreams since the very first day we met. Even if my dreams were nightmares, even if in those dreams he was killing me, they were still beautiful. Just like him. He was broken, but there was no denying he was beautiful.

I lay my head on his bare chest, closing my eyes over as I listened to the steady beat of his dark heart. It was blissful. Like listening to the rain against your window on the coldest of nights. My fingers delicately traced his tensing muscles, careful to avoid the badly bruised areas.

"What are you doing to me?" I breathed, feeling oddly content in his arms.

"This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to fall." I whispered, saying the things I was unable to say when he was awake. Harry made me weak, and weak is never something I have been.

"I hate to admit it Harry, but I'm scared. I'm scared of loosing you. I'm scared of loosing this...whatever this is." I choked, a salty tear dripping onto his sore skin.

I wiggled from under him and pushed myself into a seated position. Truthfully I could lie with him all day, but I didn't want to become dependant on his touch to calm me. I smiled, leaning over him before I pressed a tender kiss to his lips. His lip ends curled into a smile before he cuddled into the pillow and fell into a deeper sleep. I giggled lightly and stood to my feet, rolling my eyes at the amusing sight of him.

I tiptoed to my room door and pulled it open. Resting my head against the doorframe I watched him intently for a few more moments. How did this happen to me? How did I, Scarlet Rose Evans, fall for Harry Styles? He's dangerous, and he's bad news. But I want him. I want all of him. Every instinct I have is telling me to run, but truth be told, if I ran...I'd only be running back to him.

I strolled down the stairs, feeling anxious when I heard my families chatter coming from the kitchen. How do I explain the state Harry is in? How do I answer their questions about us, when I'm not sure what we are myself? And how do I convince my mum to go low-key with the birthday plans? I took in a deep breath, painted on a smile and confidently walked into the kitchen. That's right Scarlet; act like having an attractive boy stay the night is no big deal.

I could feel all eyes on me. Becky, my mum and my aunt Kathy all sat around the kitchen table eating their toast. I wonder if they would be so quick to sit there if they knew that less than twelve hours ago someone died in our kitchen...best not tell them, eh? My mum peered over the top of her newspaper, her eyes watching me suspiciously as I set to make breakfast for Harry and myself.