Sweet Mistake

Trash

Annabelle's POV

"What are you doing here?" I said choked up looking at the person staring at Harry and I.

"I could ask him the same thing." He said.

"Dad, what do you want?" I looked at Harry and back to my father.

"Is a father not allowed to visit his own daughter?" He looked Harry up and down. "Why are you two almost naked?" His tone sharpened.

"We went swimming. And no, you're not allowed to visit me. I moved here for a reason. And it wasn't so you could follow me." I spat.

"I don't like your tone young lady." He stood up straight and his gaze hardened.

"I'm Harry." Harry piped in. He stuck his hand out to my dad.

"Yeah, I know who you are. The famous Harry Styles." My dad mocked him.

"You need to leave. Especially if you're going to be rude." I said bluntly and opened the door to my flat.

"You can't kick me out. I created you."

"Yes I can. I'm an adult now. And you're trespassing." I stood my ground. I wasn't going to let him push me around.

"You're 19. Maybe if you want me to treat you like an adult you should act like one. You don't think I've seen the news reports and magazine about the boys you've been hanging out with? You need to get a job and stay in one place." He said sternly, his voice raising.

"No I don't! You need to leave!" I felt my face getting hot.

"We let you move here because you said you were going to go to the University in London! That girl Eleanor convinced you not to didn't she? I knew she was a bad influence!" He walked towards me.

"Don't you talk about Eleanor you dick! She is the best thing that has ever happened to me! And I only told you I was going to the University because I wanted to get away from you!" I screamed at him. My fists clenching together.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" His hand moved across my face leaving a painful feeling in my cheek. My hand instantly moved to my cheek as my eyes begin to fill with tears. "I'm your fucking father!" He roared. I just stared at him in disbelief. I wasn't able to speak, a lump formed in my throat. I felt Harry's hand wrapped around mine.

"Yes, you are her fucking father. So how in the hell could you hit your own daughter?" I heard his voice get deep with rage. I looked at him and his face didn't look like him. It was replaced with this angry, dark eyed man.

"Harry, don't." I whispered.

"Who the fuck are you?" My dad shouted getting in Harry's face.

"A guy that cares more about a girl than her own father. Now please get the fuck out of this flat before I do things I really regret." His grip on my hand tightened.

"Like what? What are you going to do pretty boy? Nothing." My dad spat. My cheek felt numb now.

"You really don't want to know. Now with all do respect, sir, please get the fuck out of my face." Harry tried calming himself down, but he sounded fierce.

"I expected better from you Annabelle." My dad backed away and shook his head slowly. "Don't come running back to me when your life is shit." He walked past me and slammed the door behind him. I finally let go and let myself cry. Harry turned towards me and pulled me into his large arms.

"It'll be alright." He cooed rubbing the back of my hair as I cried into his warm chest. He pushed me out slightly and looked at me. "Are you okay?" He caressed my red cheek. I nodded slightly before he pulled me back in. "I can't believe he hit you. I won't let him do it ever again. I promise." He held me close to him as my face was pressed against his bare tattooed chest. "Don't worry. He won't hurt you anymore." His words were soft and comforting. I didn't want to let him know I didn't think it was a big deal. But it was nice to know he cared. Because it happens everyday right? He used to smack me around all the time, I didn't know why I was so shocked, I should he accustomed to it already. Maybe it's because Eleanor never treated me like that. The boys don't treat me like that. The last time my dad hit me was when I was 18. He got frustrated that I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I talked to Eleanor about it, and she told me she wanted me to move out to London with her. So I did. My cries subsided and I stood in Harry's arms in a comfortable silence. He continued stroking my damp hair. I could hear his heart beating, I don't know why, but it was soothing, maybe because it gave me something to focus on, or maybe it was just because I knew that he was a living person who wanted to help me and make sure I was alright.