Angel (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 4

"So Becca," Harry looks at me intensively, almost as if he is concentrating very hard. "Yeah?" I mumble back to him. We're sitting on a nearby park bench across the street from the very "classy" club. We had both decided we needed some air from all that dancing, and those alcohol crazed people. As far as I'm aware, Chelsea and the girls are having an amazing time, and I know I'm feeling like shit. Why did I come to the conclusion that "getting out" would be a better solution again? Here I sit, with a total complete stranger.. What am I even doing? Obviously I am completely out of it. If it weren't for Hank, I wouldn't be sitting with a complete stranger. And If it weren't for Hank, I'd be sitting on the couch watching reruns of Friends.

And everything leads back to Hank.

I miss him.

"What's on your mind..?" Harry whispers to me.

"It's nothing." I reply calmly. The wind picks up its speed and the cold air hits us like a ray of sun. I shiver and Harry gently wraps his jacket around my barely covered arms.

"No, I'm fine, rea-" He cuts me off. "Nah, you're cold. It's only the right thing for me to do. You'll thank me later when you don't have the flu." He smirks.

Will I thank him later?

Will I even know him later?

What does he even mean by later?

I still cannot get over the fact that he is still some guy I just met a week ago. Yet he acts like we've been friends forever. Well he does know the biggest secret I am hiding right now. He knows that Hank hit me. I am too ashamed to even think about it. The last thing I want him to find out is that Hank nearly took advantage of me in the same night.

"It's that guy, isn't it?" He looks at me once again, his emerald eyes are piercing through mine. I didn't have to answer his question for him to know that Hank was well on my mind. "Well, I-...I- " what was I supposed to say? At this point, I don't even think I care. It's not like he's someone I need to impress. "As far as I'm concerned," I finally say back to him, "that's none of your business." He chuckles lightly and looks far off into the distance as if he's amused. "Look," he holds his hands up in front of him as if he were in surrender, "I was just trying to help. It seems like you need someone to talk to." I sigh and stare down at my feet. I shuffle them against the concrete ground, slowly making my own rhythm. I look up for a second and watch the cars pass by and the strobe lights beaming from across the road. Everything was moving so fast, yet time was going by so slow. Time had forgotten me. It left me behind, while everyone else had moved on along with it.

Just like Hank.

He has probably moved on with the rest of them. Does he even care?

And here's this strange, curly haired boy, who for some reason wants to sit here with me and watch the world go by us.

How exciting for him.

"I'm sorry," I say to Harry, "It's just that now isn't a good time for me..."

I am not good at this kind of stuff. You know, apologizing and opening up your feelings. It's not my thing.

"I don't know what to do." I whisper desperately. I probably sound like an idiot. I keep looking down, I do not want, nor do I need to see the look on his face right now.

"My mum always told me to keep my chin up, and my head held high.. " he mumbles to me, "I know that it's massively difficult to keep that up sometimes, but you've really got to try. You don't want this to affect who you are Becca. He does not define who you are."

I am completely astonished. It's as if his words were rehearsed. His eyes burn through me. His curly hair almost reaches his eyes. He swoops his head down and swooshes it off to the side and fixes it back in place. I try not to stare, but I think he catches me. He smirks to himself and looks down at the concrete along with me. "Thank you." I say to him. "...That meant a lot." He just leans back up and smiles at me. His dimples are perfectly shaped and his teeth are the closest thing to pearls. He jumps right up off the bench, and nearly startles me to death. "I wanna take you out tomorrow night." He says confidently.

What did he just say? Doesn't he know what I'm going through right now? "I don't know, Harry. I mean-" "Trust me." He smiles as he cuts me off from speaking.

"I wanna show you how to have a good time."