Forget Me Not (Zayn/Harry; Mpreg AU)

15 - Hurricane (part 2)

"What do you want with my son?"

"I want to be with him."

Trisha scoffs loudly. She steps closer to Harry and, although she's a head shorter than him, she manages to send the boy cowering. "Well, I think you're lying."

Harry looks confused, eyebrows pulled together in the middle of his forehead.

"How much do you want, huh? £100,000? Half a million? How about a car? His Porsche perhaps? A penthouse? Come on, tell me." Trisha has this sneering expression on as she speaks.

Shaking his head, Harry backs away until he is pressed flat against the wall. He is in great disbelief; he cannot stomach the thought that this woman, Zayn's own mother, nonetheless, thinks Zayn is only desirable because of his riches and nothing else.

"I don't need his or your money. I want to love Zayn and make him happy. Why can't you see it?"

Harry, somehow, manages to slip out from Trisha's clutches. He takes quick strides away from her but he's too weak for some reason and the next thing he knows, a hand is wrapped around his forearm in a vice-like grip.

Trisha tugs Harry back, making him stumble and crumple to the floor with his forearm dangling in the air, still in her hold. She digs her sharp nails on his arm, hard enough that she breaks his soft skin. Dark red blood starts to well up from the tiny crescent cuts.

"Please let go," Harry whimpers softly. He tries to yank his arm back, only resulting in Trisha tightening her hold on him. "You're hurting me."

"Not until you leave my Zayn alone," Trisha counters. She enjoys his sharp intake of breath. "What will it be, huh? Money? House? A car? A decent job?"

For the first time ever since he stepped onto the house, Harry musters up his courage and glares at Zayn's mum. He has had enough and will not let her continue believing that he is only after the wealth that comes with Zayn's name when it isn't. He will not leave Zayn, even if he has nothing but the clothes on his back, Harry will still love him and be with him.

"If you think I am only with Zayn because he's rich then you are wrong, Mrs. Malik. I'm with him because I love him. I love making him smile and laugh. I love serving him and taking care of him. Isn't that enough for you?"

"No," Trisha scoffs. "You'll never be someone I want for my son."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you but Zayn wants me as much as I want him," Harry responds, wriggling a bit to dislodge the iron grip on his arm. A second later, he feels the sharp pain of a slap against his cheek.

"Mum, what the fuck are you doing?" Zayn cries out, anger clear in his golden irises because he has seen his mother's palm connecting with a loud smack to Harry's cheek. He rushes to Harry's side and tugs his arm out of his mum's grip. Zayn sees the bloody cuts and grimaces, blood boiling, before helping Harry to stand up and putting him behind himself as if to protect him from his mother. "Why did you hurt him?"

There is the feeling of guilt deep within Zayn for dragging Harry into this mess. He knows that his family hasn't been exactly welcoming to the young lad and that Harry is in discomfort the whole time. He hates that Gigi even showed up to the dinner, where Harry is supposedly the main guest, the one who is being introduced to the family, and takes the privilege of getting to know the Maliks away from the boy and instead making it about her, as usual. Even Doniya seems to be against Harry tonight and now this, Zayn's mum hurts Harry.

Zayn has had enough.

"Come on, Haz," Zayn says, pulling Harry flush against his side and heading towards the exit. "Let's go home."