Only You {h.s}

Chapter Ten

I have been in a sufficiently better mood since my conversation with Harry yesterday.  I've decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and try my best to move on. 

I woke up this morning and didn't even think to lie in bed all day.  Granted, it was already half one.  But it is an improvement nonetheless. 

I shower and get dressed in real clothes for the first time in forever.  I put on a grey cropped sweater and light pink skater skirt.  My sheer white thigh highs have little pink bows at the top. I almost feel pretty.

It's a little after three.  The afternoon sun is shining through the windows of the living room, heating the cream colored carpet beneath my feet. 

I'm standing on my tip toes, struggling to reach a The Rolling Stones record on the top shelf.  Jumping a little, I almost have it.  I groan, take a breath, and jump as high as I can, just barely grasping it.  I smile down at the cover held in my hands, slightly proud of myself for getting it on my own.  Soft chuckles from across the room startle me.

"That was cute, love."

"You could've helped, you know," I say, rolling my eyes at Harry.

"Aw, but where's the fun in that?" 

He walks over to me and takes the record from my hands.

"You're a Stones fan, yeah?" he asks.   

"Mhm.  Jagger's a legend," I smile up at him.

"Agreed," he says, giving me a dimpled smirk. 

His gaze on me becomes more intense and I realize he's specifically looking at where I was bruised.  He grasps my chin gently with his index finger and thumb, tilting my head so he can take a better look.

"This one's mostly faded," Harry states. 

His fingers trail slowly down my neck, stopping at my collar bones.  He lightly traces the outline of the disappearing handprint, his touch giving me goosebumps.

"You can barely see this one," he whispers. 

His hand moves back up again to cup my face, his thumb stroking my cheek.  My breath hitches when he leans down, lips about to meet mine.  I close my eyes and wait for his touch.  He surprises me by lifting his head up, kissing my forehead.

"Princess?"

"Hmm," I blink up at him, not yet recovered from our almost moment.

"Let's get out of here."

"What, why?"

"Because," he pauses, "it's time for you to get out of the house.  You've been cooped up in here for over a week now.  Plus your injuries are basically healed at this point, so don't even try using that as an excuse."

He's right.  I have been holed up in here for a while.  The thought of going outside gives me anxiety.  I don't want to run into Zayn anywhere.  I know he's basically skipped town, but there is always a chance. 

"I don't know..." I trail off.

"Why not?"  He sounds confused.

"Cause," I look away from him, "I don't want there to be any chance of seeing him.  I don't want to get hurt anymore."

"Hey," he reaches out for my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine.  I look back up into his shimmering green eyes.

"I'm here now, Mer.  And I won't ever let anyone hurt you again."

My eyes search his face for any clue that he may be playing me.  All I find is an earnest expression.

"Do you promise?" I ask, feeling very small.