The Boy Next Door (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 14

His smile was bigger than ever before, his dimples indenting. His eyes lit up, washing out all the anger and hatred for the frat boys. It was all just love. Love for me and me only. He grabbed me by the waist and kissed me. And it was the most passionate kiss we've ever shared. I know he truly loves me.

"Please don't ever leave me." He says as he pulls away.

"Don't give me a reason to." I smirk.

"I won't baby." He kisses my forehead. "Now lets go home."

I nod.

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"This was supposed to be a lot more fun tonight." He says as we both stand in the doorway of my house.

"Harry it's okay. He deserved to have his ass kicked anyways." I smile.

Just as I was about to kiss him, my mother walks out into the foyer. "Oh. Hello Harry." She says, a look of disgust on her face. My suspicions are correct. She doesn't like Harry.

"Hi." He gives her a small smile and wave.

"Well. I'll leave you two alone. Have a nice night Harry."

"Thank you. You too." He says and my mother walks out of the room.

As soon as she leaves, I kiss him. I have to stand on my tippie-toes, but I like the fact that Harry is taller than me. It just feels right.

"Stay with me tonight." I say into his lips.

He pulls away. "What?" I know he heard me. He just wants to hear how desperate I am for him.

"Stay with me. Please." I beg. I need to hear his heart beat in the middle of the night. He was my favorite sound. His heart. His laugh. His voice. His moaning in our most intimate moments.

"Okay." He smiles. He picks me up bridal style and carries me up the steps. I laugh as he almost falls on the first step. We make it into my room, closing the door behind us. He sets me down on the bed and lays beside me. I turn to face him. He caresses my cheek with his hand, staring into my eyes. I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted to know his story.

"Harry?" I question.

"Yeah?"

"You never told me about yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean everything. Your story. Your family. Your friends. Anything."

I see him tense up a little, but he remains calm and I know it's for my sake. "There's nothing to tell." He simply states.

"There has to be."

He removes his hand from my face. "I'm serious. My only friend is Evan. My family is dysfunctional and I have no story."

"Everybody has a story."

"Why does it matter anyways?" He mumbles.

"Because I want to know you."

He sighs. "Well. I grew up in Holmes Chapel and I moved here this year. That's it."

"What about your family?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Harry. It matters to me."

"Well it doesn't matter to me so drop it." He snaps.

"Okay." I say. Honestly, I feel a little hurt. That fact that he didn't want to open up to me about anything made me feel like shit. Did he trust me? I haven't given him a reason not to, have I?

I get up off of the bed. Harry is staring at the ceiling. I sigh and walk to the bathroom. I wash all of my makeup off my face and pull my hair into a pony tail. I slip on a big t-shirt and panties for pajamas and walk back out. Harry has the covers pulled down and he was laying in my bed, the lights off. I slowly make my way over to the bed, climbing in. I lay down and Harry pulls me close. Neither of us say anything, not knowing what to say at all. It's peaceful in the house. I'm pretty sure my mom is asleep and the sound of crickets outside full my ears. I lay awake for a little while. Silence filling the house. The only sound I really care about is the beat of Harry's heart. The steady rhythm if his breathing.

As I am about to fall asleep, I hear Harry's whisper. "My dad started drinking when I was five. He was always drunk and he would hit and punch my mum every day." His voice filled my ears. It sounded so childish and innocent. It broke my heart. "I grew up having nightmares every night because-." He couldn't finish his sentence. He seemed to daze off. I hold on tighter to his waist, letting him know I'm here. "A-and I would hear screaming in the middle of the night because he would hit her so hard."

"Harry." I whisper. It's the only word I could get out. Hearing how damaged his past was. A little Harry feeling so lonely and deserted. No wonder why he can't trust anybody. He's been betrayed by his father. No wonder why he's so protective. He's trying to make up for all of the years he had no power to be over his mother.

"One night he came home from a bar and he was so angry." I hear Harry sniffle. He was actually crying. I want to kiss away every single tear. Every heartbreak. Every nightmare his father caused. "I was ten years old and me and my mum were watching TV on the couch because I couldn't sleep. And h-he came in and grabbed a vase. He was about to-. He was about to throw it at my mum b-but I stood in front of it." He stops and turns on the lamp on the night stand. His red eyes show through the dim light. I see him lift up his shirt. He points to his lower stomach. I could faintly see a big scar on his skin. How have I never noticed that before?

"He did that?" I whisper, a tear falls down my cheek.

He nods. "He threw the vase and it broke. It hit me right here." He points to the damaged area. "He went to jail until I was fifteen. Through all of the years he was in jail, I got kicked out of two schools for fighting and then I moved here with my mum."

I stare at him, the tears falling down both of our faces. "Harry I-." I can't find the words.

"It's okay." He whispers.

"It's not okay Harry. I'm so sorry." My voice is hushed.

He kisses my lips, his lips lingering. "I have you. That's all that matters."