Broken Defender

Chapter Twenty-One ~ A Bully Is A Bully

He seemed more possessive now than he'd been before. I had stopped crying at this point, and was completely ready to put the incident with Rachel behind me... but Harry seemed livid. His arm wrapped tightly around my neck, and my head was pulled against the side of his chest as he made widened strides toward home.

"Are you okay?" He asked me for the second time on our journey. I nodded my head, smiling up at his glaring expression.

"I'm fine Harry, really." I explained. He shook his head in disgust. His jaw clicked as he stared ahead of him.

"How could she fucking act like that?" He asked in aggravated amazement. His head ducked down as he stared at his feet.

"I mean Zayn said she was a bitch but... just..." He looked back down at me, pulling me tighter into him and kissing my forehead.

"I don't know, I guess I just don't get it." He admitted, his steps slowing as we approached my house.

"I mean you're so cute. Who'd wanna hurt you?" He laughed, turning me about so that I was facing him.

I blushed at the complement, peering down at the ground as he hooked his index finger beneath my chin, pulling it up so that I met his gaze again. He smiled softly. The forest in his eyes seemed to shine like the midday as he took in my appearance. The look was intimidating, as was most of his gazes, but this one seemed to take me even more aback than the others had. I felt so foolish, staring up as his eyes lingered in mine. We stood on the sidewalk mindlessly. We both were in the middle of the world, but somehow our conduct seemed private, personal. His warm hands clasped against my cold cheeks. His forehead bumped mine as we breathed in sync with one another.

"You know I may be a bit obsessed with you." He whispered, staring intensely and concentrated into my eyes.

I blushed again, biting down on my lower lip in embarrassment at his words. Somehow I couldn't make since of his admiration. I'd tried dozens of times to rationalize the idea that he liked me, but I just couldn't.

"Why?" I asked.

The word slipped past my lips unintentionally as the thought swam through my head. Harry laughed quietly, tilting his head and connecting his lips with mine. I still wasn't used to it; the feeling I got when he kissed me. It wasn't something I could describe in words, or even thoughts. It almost felt like a marriage of opposites; a strong helping of timidity overlapping ample desire, wanting for his lips on my lips, his hands on my neck. My head seemed to spin as the tip of his tongue traced slowly, and wetly against my bottom lips in time for them to part as his tongue then slipped past my teeth. The opposites fought in my system again as an outbreak of chilly goose bumps were quickly doused by the warm, inviting feeling of tension that seemed to stir between us, as his kiss grew more hurried, hungered. His lips broke from mine reluctantly as he stared into my eyes once more. His breaths were shaky as he let out a quiet laugh.

"I don't know." He said, returning to my question from before.

"It just feels right." He leaned in one more time, pecking my lips.

"I mean doesn't that get you?" He asked. His brow furrowed in worry over my response.

"Like... the feeling I mean." He tried to explain, licking his lips in thought as he tried to make since of an obviously inexplicable feeling.

"You just... I don't know... you make me happy." He explained.

He couldn't help laughing at those words, shaking his head as his eyes closed. He seemed to question the very idea of happiness, as though it were something he wasn't accustomed to. His nostrils flared as he took in an uneasy breath. His chocolate curls fell over his forehead before his gaze met mine again.