Arranged with Style.

13.

Her tattoo^^^

A couple of dreary useless days had passed since my attempted apology towards Harry which I still hadn't truly gotten over. Maybe I'm just too soft and sensitive for his harsh, brutal persona but unfortunately that's not something I can really help or change.

I blew out a breath through my lips as I switched the TV off feeling a bit sleepy as it was getting quite late, the clock hands edging near Eleven. Harry had already gone to bed earlier, well he'd retreated to his room straight after dinner so I'm assuming he'd gone to bed, he could be watching TV. Who knows, who cares.

Ever since that night I haven't made any attempts in talking or holding a conversation with him, already knowing what the bitter outcome would be and it stung that he hadn't bothered either. It really displayed his lack of care. We had spoken when it was necessary, curt and tight.

Bee often sending me sympathetic glances that I pretended not too notice, I didn't want to be that wife. The rejected wife, pitied by the onlookers, I didn't think I would be that wife but clearly that is where I have found myself landing. My optimism fading as the days crawl by being steadily replaced with anger towards my parents for essentially landing me in this hurtful position.
With a deep sigh I stood up off the comfortable couch, standing and stretching before raising my hands to my pink tipped hair and pulling the thick strands back into a messy ponytail and securing it with a black hair tie that was wrapped around my wrist. I then drag myself to my bedroom, passing Harry's door faint voices from what I assume is the TV being heard through the thick wood making me huff at the little pang of hurt that he couldn't even sit and watch TV with me in the lounge.

*
I switch my lamp off, Bon Bon curled up at my feet and nestled deeply into the mound of comforter looking awfully peaceful and snoozing happily. He seems to like it here for whatever reason that has justified itself in his little dog brain. At least someone's enjoying themselves.

I awake somewhere deep into the night by a agonised husky yell that echoed throughout the otherwise silent apartment. I Spring up in my spot, my comforter falling to my waist as I rub my eyes, panic settling into my chest as my mind races at the possibilities.

"No!" Another raw cry is heard from Harry's bedroom and I quickly rip the comforter off me, chills trickling up my spine as my feet come in contact with cold hardwood flooring as I hastily pad over to his bedroom in the dark.

I stop when my hand is placed on the doorknob unsure as to wether I should go in and see what's wrong or I should just go back to bed, however my decision is made when another painful sounding whimper is heard through the door. So I quickly push the door open; surprised to see that the lamp is already on, casting even light around the room to be able to see what's in front of me.

Harry is thrashing around in the bed wearing nothing but boxers, the comforter wrapped around the bottom half of his long legs. I can see the sheen of sweat across his toned body whenever it catches the light and I'm unsure of what I should do.

"No, please!" He yells out making me jump at the sheer volume and I feel a pang of pity hit my chest regardless of the way he has been treating me, my naturally sensitive personality feeling hurt as I watch him lost in his nightmare looking in absolute agony. His biceps are bulging due to the firm grip he has on the bed sheet with his large hands, chest muscles contracting as he takes heaving breaths. The tattoos looking dark with with the perspiration as they stretch when his muscles do. I scurry over to the bed and gingerly grip one is his broad shoulders with my small hands beginning to shake him.

"Harry," I plead. "Wake up, please." I say as I continue to shake him slowly getting rougher until he lets out a throaty groan and shoots upwards, the action catching me off guard as our foreheads meet in a painful bump.

"Ouch." I Yelp, rubbing the sore spot as my cheeks heat up. His ragged breathing can be heard throughout the room as he runs a ring clad hand through his damp hair and it makes me wonder what he was dreaming about. Nothing pleasant clearly.
"Y-you were having a nightmare," I murmur softly, my hands clasped in my lap as I sit on the edge of his large bed unsure of what to do with myself and my presence. His head snaps up as his green eyes meet mine as if he had forgotten I was in the room beside him.
I get the feeling I may have said the wrong thing as I see his jaw muscle jump, a small crease forming between his brows.

"Get out." He says coldly my lips parting at the harsh words although I probably shouldn't have expected any less from the clearly naturally cold hearted man.

"W-wha-?"

"I said. Get the fuck out of my room." He spits even louder, pure hatred being visible in his emerald eyes and I can't fathom why the hell he hates me so much, what on earth have I done to him to receive such behaviour. I stand up, my chest heavy as I turn on my heel and head out of the room, my head bowed.

"And don't even think about coming into my room again without my permission." He commands from the bed as I reach the oak door, no sign of previous vulnerability in his voice at all and his fast recovery makes me question how many times this has happened before and if it's a regular occurrence.

Nevertheless, I don't retaliate and I just quietly head to bed. Lips tugged southwards.

+

The next morning I feed BB, before settling down to breakfast, my mind still reeling from the events of the previous night. I find it ridiculously hard to comprehend why he hates me so much and what on earth I've done.

It makes me wonder if he's always been this way since a child or wether something happened that triggered him to act as hostile as this, even though I was willing to get out of my bed to wake him up. He should be thankful not hateful.

Honestly.

I was knocked forcefully out of my frankly miserable thoughts by the obnoxious buzzing of my phone which lay again the marble bar, I flinched as I was brought down to reality and hastily grabbed it in between my fingers seeing Silver's name across the screen. Sliding my thumb along the bottom I held it against my ear.

"What?" I grunted, feeling rather miserable and grumpy ever since last night-- well actually ever since I first got here really.

"Greenbean, what's good?" A much more enthusiastic voice cheered to my rude greeting and I grumbled under my breath at her cheerfulness, a sad frown forming when I realised how much I actually missed my family.

"Don't call me that you little shit."

"You sound like an old man, lighten up, damn. Anyway, how's the hot husband? Has that V-card finally gone?" She said and even through her voice I could practically feel her wiggling her eyebrows very suggestively. I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.

"No, Silver. Is your brain only wired to think about my sex life and how to annoy people." I grumbled rhetorically.

"Yep-- Ouch! What the fuck-- Gran, fuck, chill woman." Silver hissed after yelping and I could only imagine my Gran had given her a swat to the head for talking about sex so openly. Good, she deserved it.

BB came trotting up to where I was sitting and began whining and nuzzling the led of my barstool, so balancing the phone precariously between my shoulder and ear I quickly bent down and scooped him up and set him to curl up on my lap where he barked happily.

Bringing the phone back to my ear I was this time met with a difference voice than previous, this one much softer and warmer than that of my sisters.

Gran.

A/N; the plot will begin to slowly unfold after this chapter really! I'm excited! I've dropped a few things in a few chapters that will make sense when the book develops and I think you'll be surprised at what I have in store!

Love you!