Break Me-A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 4-Flashbacks

    "What are you doing here?" He asks again, sounding more impatient. I blink up at him, at a loss for words.
    "Uh, sorry. I, uh, just came in here for a second alone." I stutter. He seems uninterested in what I have to say, as if my presence alone bores him.
    "Ok, you had a moment. Now leave." Harry snaps, and I detect an accent in his raspy voice. Dumbfounded by his arrogance, I gape up at him.
    "Leave." He hisses, voice full of fatal venom. His tone alone sends shivers down my spine, one word from this boy petrifies me. I nod, and stumble out of the room.
    Once I make my way back downstairs, I spot Dylan in the crowd. I was so flustered by the situation upstairs that I hadn't noticed that he didn't follow us. He excuses himself from his current conversation, and strides over to me.
    "How do you feel?" He smiles.
    "Huh?"
      "Oh, this isn't your first time being high?" He questions. I shake my head.
    "I'm not...I didn't..." My voice trails off.
      "Oh." Dylan nods in understanding. "Do you want another drink?" He asks me. I am about to protest when I see Harry saunter down the stairs, his arm slung around a clearly intoxicated female. Something about the sight boils my blood.
    "Yeah, a drink would be great." I say, my focus still on the curly haired boy. A smug expression is plastered on his face as the girl begins to throw herself at him. He really is a terrible person, rude and arrogant, conceded and cruel. No wonder Naomi warned me about him. Then again, I should stay away from Naomi too. Dylan returns with two red cups, and hands one to me. I return my focus to him, and thank him. Once my gaze finds Harry again, his eyes are piercing through me. I take a long sip of my drink, suppressing the memories that usually accompany any alcoholic beverage, and focusing on my breathing. Harry watches my every move, as I do his. Dylan engages me in conversation, and I remove Harry from my line of vision, but I can still feel his intense gaze burning into my skin.
      Four drinks later, and I feel great. I am completely in awe that I haven't drank since that night. I shudder. Even in my drunken state, remembrance of that terrible night makes me want to burst into tears. I send Dylan off into the kitchen to get another drink for me. I turn my focus back to Harry for the first time in a while, and my eyes meet his, no emotion present in his features. I ball my fists and stomp over to him, an action which obviously takes him by surprise, but he quickly composes himself. Halfway across the room, and I begin to question my motives. Harry watches me as I eye his friends, who are completely oblivious to me. I swallow my anxieties, allowing the alcohol pumping through my bloodstream to take over completely.
    "What is your problem?" I demand, my words slightly slurred. Amusement dances through Harry's eyes.
    "Excuse me?" He asks, with a smug expression.
     "You've been staring at me all night." I snap, trying to come off as intimidating. I catch the attention of his friends, and their conversations become hushed as they observe our exchange.
      "I think you're just being paranoid." Harry teases condescendingly. I feel rage quickly consuming me, and try to calm myself. Why am I allowing him so much power? Why does he take pleasure in getting under my skin?
      "Bella?" Dylan's voice can be heard over my shoulder. I shoot Harry a disdainful glare before turning on my heal and returning to Dylan.
        "Hey." I smile. Dylan looks relieved that I hadn't left.
      "Do you wanna get out of here?" He asks. That question alone sobers me up. My heart begins to pound in my chest, and my breathe hitches in my throat. I shake my head in protest, but Dylan ignores me, wrapping his hand round my wrist and tugging me through the crowd of people. He leads me through the kitchen and out the back door. We stand on a large wooden patio overlooking a colorful garden.
    "Dylan, I wanna go back inside." I urge.
    "Shhh." Dylan silences me, placing a hand on my waist, and backing me against the side of the big house. My eyes dart from side to side, my breathing becoming uneven. Dylan's lips hover over mine, his breathe reeking of alcohol. That alone pushes me over the edge, memories taking over my already clouded mind. It all comes rushing back and it's as if I'm back to that night, I can feel lips being pressed to mine.
    "No, please." I'd begged. I can't tell the difference between a memory and reality at the moment. I suddenly hear his voice.
    "Shut it." He'd urged me, silencing me by shoving me forcefully against the wall, my head connecting with the concrete causing me to shriek in pain.
      "What the fuck is going on?" A deep voice growls, snapping me of my flashback, returning me to reality. My eyes spring open, and I hear myself hyperventilating. I look up and see that it's Dylan who had been kissing me, not him. He's gone.
    "What? We're just kissing." Dylan lets out a drunken laugh. My tense body finally breaks down, all pent up emotions washing over me. I fall to my knees and release strangled sobs, never ending tears pouring from my eyes. Through my blurred vision, I see Harry step towards Dylan, warning him to run away. Dylan quickly flees back into the safety of the house, and Harry hesitantly walks towards me. Terrified of any more physical contact, I let out another shriek, and try to get away from him. He's too fast for me, and I am scooped into his arms, and lifted from the ground. My body begins to shake as images of what the dangerous boy could do to me fill my mind.
    Whilst still holding me, Harry maneuvers through the mound of people, and up the stairs. He kicks open the door of the bedroom where we had had our previous encounter. He gently places me onto the bed, and disappears into the bathroom. By this time, I've calmed down, my sobs ceasing. However, tears continue to fall from my eyes, staining my cheeks. Harry returns with a tissue in hand. He joins me in sitting upon the soft bed, but keeps a reasonable distance between us. He hands me the tissue, and I wipe my eyes.
    "Did he touch you?" Harry asks, eyes dark with anger. I try to remember. I was so entangled in my memories, that I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't.
    "I-I don't know." I admit quietly.
    "What do you mean you don't know?" Harry snaps, irritation present in his voice.
      "I-I...he...forget it." I whisper, standing from the bed. I can't handle Harry and his attitude right now.
      "Wait." Harry stops me. I turn to face him, a strange glimmer of hope shines within me, wishing Harry would comfort me. I ignore it. "I'm taking you back to the campus." He says, patting the pocket of his jeans to assure that his keys are present.
    "N-no." I protest. "I don't want you to take me back." My voice comes out small, almost a squeak. Harry lets out a chuckle.
    "You don't really have a choice."

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Twitter: @slamminstyles