Dysfunctional (h.s)

6.

It's another one of those late nights where it's past midnight and Harry is torn at the all too familiar sounds of stumbling boots and jiggling keys, ears pressed to his bedroom door. He's torn because those sounds shouldn't belong to pretty older siblings who come home late smelling like abuse but they do and he's torn because there's nothing he can do about it. Most days he just sleeps. Tired eyes and regret, blindly convincing himself that he hasn't noticed the cuts on Gemma's arm or the bruises on her hips. Today, he walks to her bedroom toeing his way across the hallway past their (so, so ignorant) parent's room. Tired eyes and regret. But then again both the styles kids have smelled like abuse at some point or another.

"Gemma?" He says wandering in before a response. She's  in the middle of changing and he  stands there taking a shaky breath, holding back the tears threatening to fall. He's a big boy, and big boys don't cry even if they've seen the ever growing bruises blossoming on their (pretty) sisters hips before she covers it up with her jumper.

"Harry...you should be sleeping." She says, too defeated to tell him bug off. "You should too, Gem. Where have you been?" concern evident in his voice. "Please tell me who's doing this to you." Tired eyes and regret. "Please?"

"I'm alright Harry, stop worrying." "No you're not! I can't see you like this, you're my sister for fucks sake Gem" tears break free, sliding down his face even though he's a big boy, and big boys don't cry even if they've seen the ever growing bruises blossoming on their (pretty) sisters hips before she covers it up with her jumper.

"Leave him. What does that bastard have that you crawl back to him even when he treats you like fucking shit? He's hurting you don't you see? You have to tell mum! Wait till I get my hands on him, I swear to god he won't live to see daylight..." Harry rambles on,anger in his veins, tired eyes and regret.

And Gemma just smiles, it's weak and defeated but she smiles nonetheless at her little brother's effort, because growing up is a funny thing and love is even funnier. Gemma knows that because she's in love with an abusive man and Luna can sort of grasp it now, but at sixteen Harry doesn't understand. He just wonders why circumstance stains their childhood.

"Why are you smiling?" "'s nothing Haz, you don't get it. You can't tell mum and dad."

"Why?" "Because I said so. Promise me you won't tell them. Do it for me?"

He doesn't argue with her.

There's a huff, a sigh and a hesitant "okay." mumbled before a younger Styles is being wrapped into an embrace. Harry is torn, and there's nothing he can do.

And It's a mess, really.

***

Luna is still sixteen and Harry is still seventeen.

At seventeen Harry is no longer this gangly, innocent boy with doe green eyes and ringlet curls. Some things are different. The ruddy red of his cheeks has diluted and his plump, pink lips are slightly chapped and often laced with liquor. The sweater she once gifted him doesn't fit anymore.

Luna knows she isn't the only one who sees it, Carol and Anne are always whispering, watching him with careful eyes, worried. Because unlike Gemma, he isn't good at hiding things. This drives Luna wild because his (so, so ignorant) parents don't realise that Gemma smells like abuse and that's partly why he's sad too. Despite the increase in height, his weight seems to be shedding off. He disappears for hours and sometimes comes back smelling like smoke.

But, still it's Luna that holds Harry almost every night, not his latest 'girlfriend' or anyone else. It's Luna that traces the ever-growing amount of ink on his skin, whispering promises of "'s going to be alright" into his ears so he can sleep. It's Luna and Harry and it always will be.

***

It's raining outside. Dark clouds moved in sluggishly over the Mason's house before releasing an apparent endless downpour of water. The windows teared up and soon beads of water were racing down to the sill. Faint pitter pattering could be heard from the roof.

They are lying in Luna's bed (Harry on the bed, Luna on his chest) and Luna is worried because Harry is bright and alive, not this. The sunshine that glowed underneath his skin has dimmed. There are faint purple rings around his eyes and Luna wishes nothing more than to wipe them away with her fingers that gently caress his face while he plays with her hair, twirling it between his fingers.

"Luna?" he murmurs. "You've got paint in your hair."

"'m not surprised but yeah, I should probably wash it" she says looking up, cheeks slightly red from embarrassment.

He continues wrapping her hair around his finger and Luna grabs his hand trying not to think much of it.

"Ever thought about painting me?" he remarks casually.

"No, not really" is what comes out of her mouth even though yes, yes, yes is what her mind says.

He feigns hurt, " That's a shame Luna, what a waste of talent."  cheeky harry surfacing for a minute. It feels a bit like the old times even though it's nothing close, but then he smiles, and Luna can't help but do the same because it's not something he does very often anymore.

"Maybe someday." she whispers playfully.

They fall silent as Harry shakes his head, his gaze dropping down to Luna's lips. Moments drag by, Harry's eyes locked on Luna's mouth. Luna's heart was pounding. She doesn't know Morse code but she's sure her heart is pitter pattering his name out over and over again. Just like the rain.

"Harry," Luna says. She has to say something or she'll forget the boundaries of friends. She watches as his eyes flick away from her lips. "Every thing will turn out okay right?" "maybe, Luna I don't know." and she can't help but think, now eyeing his pout if Harry kisses just like he talks, all slow and syrupy, mumbling sweet nonsense against her mouth. Just them, no one else. too much, too much.

and then Harry kisses her.

Luna is sixteen and Harry is seventeen when he kisses her.

Harry kisses her and it's soft, slow, careful. Childish and trusting. They stay like that, pressed close and trading gentle, knowing kisses, for a while. It's familiar and its Harry. It's him, him, him. Always has been and will be.

Luna says I love you and Harry says I'm sorry.

they never kiss again.

everything is not okay.

And its a mess, really.

***

Hello again! this is the longest chapter yet, I hope you like it.

have a lovely day and maybe vote or comment if you want? 

love, A x