Chapter 4
*knock knock, knock knock*
“Mum, someone is knocking on the door.” I shout from my bedroom upstairs.
“Can you get it, my hands are dirty?” She yells back at me from the kitchen. I decide just to act like I didn’t hear her. She will eventually have to just wipe her hands and answer the door. Sure enough she does. I hear mums heels tap on the floor boards as she crosses the living room to the front door. Thank god for that, I’m way too comfortable to get up.
The door creaks open and that’s all I hear, until a deep husky voice speaks.
“ummm hi. Does Leah live here?”
Me? I’ve never heard that voice before, how do they know me? Now they have my full attention as I sit up on my bed and turn my ear to the bedroom door.
“Yes, she sure does. Are you a friend of hers?” My mother asks.
“Yeahh, umm... sorta. I mean, I guess.” The husky voice speaks again.
“That doesn’t sound very convincing. Does she know you are coming?” She asks again.
Why is she interrogating him? I don’t even know who the man is?
“ummm, no. Thought I would surprise her.”
Well, guess what? You surprised me. Without any further thought, my feet slide off the bed and onto the floor. I slowly tip toe to the door way of my bedroom, and crouch down. Curiosity got the better of me, I guess.
“righto.” She replies before calling my name from the door. “Leah!.... Leah?... You have a visitor.”
“Coming mum!” I basically whisper back. I begin to decline the staircase which is exactly opposite the front door, but as soon as I make about three steps down I am able to see who the unexpected visitor is... Harry.
I totally flip out, my back foot tangles my front foot and that’s the end of that smooth entrance. “LEAH!” I hear Harry shout from the opened door, but it’s too late. I tumble down the stairs, hitting my head on the railing and doing countless rolls down the steps, until I finally reach the bottom... Oh shit. Real fricken smooth Leah.
Mum and harry both rush over to the bottom of the staircase where I still lay. Pain still shoots through me, but the main shots of pain are coming from my head. I hope that that is all it needs is ice. That’s so embarrassing, as much as I dislike Harry; he still watched me fumble down a staircase and is probably dying of laughter on the inside, although he isn’t showing it.
“Ohh, sweaty... your bleeding. Your head has a pretty bad cut; I’ll have to take you to the hospital.” Mum informs with distinct worry in her voice. I attempt to stand up to walk to the car, but my knee collapses under me and I fall to the ground again.
“Oh Harry, I think she hurt her leg. You look strong and muscly, could you be a dear and carry her to the car please?” Mum politely questions Harry.
“No mum, I can walk. I don’t need him to carry me.” I snap back. I refuse to let him show up to my house with his snotty personality and dumb morals and without invitation, and then let him carry me. Harry looks shocked, at my reply. Obviously he doesn’t have too many haters, or he has just never met them, until now. Yet he still remains silent, until he speaks to me. The first time he has actually been able to form words. Surprise surprise, what a looser. He wouldn’t even be able to carry me if he tried.
“Leah... you’re clearly hurt. Just please let me help you?” Harry asks voice full of concern.
“Let him carry you sweaty, it’s not like you have to marry him.” Mum adds on.
“Well that’s for bloody sure... Fine, but then he leaves.” I let out a sigh.
“Don’t be so rude Leah.” Mum snaps at me.
Harry places a soft, big hands under my thigh and then the other behind my back. I can feel his, what feel like huge muscles, tense on my back as he pulls my body into his masculine chest. The second our chests collide, I feel warmth radiate through me. I feel somewhat safe in his arms.
Wait! What am I thinking? Feeling safe in his arms. Clearly I’m delusional; this is Harry Styles we are talking about, as if he would keep me safe. My mind races thinking of all the situations that Harry would save himself over me. My brows furrow in anger, but for some reason the warmth his touch is giving me, almost immediately erases the anger. What is it about his touch? Harry Styles touch? This is the last thought that passes through my mind before a lightning bolt of pain explodes from the gash on my head, and everything turns black.
