Illicit [Harry Styles]

Chapter 70

Harry shook out his hand, clutching it with his other one and looking down at what he'd done with a scowl still plastered across his every feature, as though he couldn't care less that he'd just smacked his friend square in the face and subsequently knocked him out cold.

No one was doing anything to help Zayn nor subdue Harry, they all were just gawping at what'd happened from a distance. They were probably scared to go near Harry after what he'd just done, not wanting to interfere in case he swung for them. Even Louis was just standing back and staring at him from behind, not particularly surprised by the looks of things.

"Harry!" I screamed out into the garden, and every head turned to look at me, the night now deadly silent apart from the distant bass coming from inside the house.

His angry expression started to fall when his eyes met mine, as though he was suddenly just realising what he'd actually done. His mouth parted to speak but no words came out, he quickly glanced down at Zayn on the ground and I could see him begin to panic as he noted my horrified eyes piercing back at him from across the garden.

He didn't move, just fidgeted and looked shocked with himself, so I took it upon myself to storm across the lawn, only I didn't go for Harry but Zayn.

"Why is no one doing anything? He needs help," I stated the obvious, crouching down next to his body. Blood was trickling from his clearly broken nose, and it scared me how still he was.

"Jess." Suddenly Harry was grabbing the back of my arm in a desperate attempt to pull me up, like he wanted to get out of there and take me with him.

I tore my upper body away and frowned at him as he nervously raked both hands through his hair, looking around almost as if he was wondering if anyone had seen, despite the audience he had raked in. In the next minute people were starting to surround Zayn, taking over from me and trying to shake him awake. I was relieved when he came to, a drowsy awakening consisting of slow groans and lots of squinting. I let out a sigh as Louis and another guy helped him to his feet, not even looking like he knew where he was at this point.

"Jess, please," Harry was whimpering at my side again. What exactly he was pleading for I didn't know, but his hand was tugging at my shoulder helplessly and he was consumed by an emotion which I couldn't read.

Was he... scared?

"What are you playing at?" I hissed at him. He visibly flinched, and I noted the the way his eyes were glassy and his expression was pained. He couldn't stand still, practically begging me to let him dash out of there by the way he encouraged me away from the scene.

"I'm sorry, Jess. Can we— Please can we just go?"

Out the corner of my eye — although it was dark — I could see his knuckles were torn and blood was trickling down his hand. It must've been quite the punch to cause that kind of damage just from one swing. I eyed his injuries, deciding that maybe our best option was to leave.

Suddenly Louis was rushing over to us, coincidentally agreeing, "Mate, I think you should go. Zayn is out of it and he doesn't remember that you smacked him one yet, if you get out now you'll avoid another fight... for tonight at least."

His hands were gripping Harry's shoulders from behind, ushering both of us towards the door while Harry looked expectantly and definitely hopefully at me, like he was waiting to hear whether I would allow him to leave or not.

"Tell Mckenzie that we're going," I finally gave in and asked of Louis, to which he nodded obligingly.

"Get that hand looked at," he suggested as we neared the front door to the house, and Harry looked at his knuckles with slight horror like he didn't even know he'd hurt himself. "And get thinking of something — an excuse — to tell Zayn, so that when he remembers he doesn't come looking to rip your head off."