Damaged Goods. (A Harry Styles Fanic)

Chapter Fifteen

After a minute or two, Lola’s sobs began to cease and her whirling mind fizzled out into a slight daze. She stood limply, head resting lightly against Harry’s warm chest as he stood equally as still, the only movement being the soothing circular motion of his thumb and forefinger on her hip. Something he did instinctively when he shared a long hug with someone. His body was a little tensed as he was unsure how to act, when to pull away or whether to speak again.

Lola broke their contact apart as she bought her hands up to wipe beneath her eyes. She glanced up at Harry, who watched her with a strong concentration, tightening his lips together. Lola managed to force a tiny twitch of the mouth into a weak slack facial expression of appreciation.

She turned on foot and ran upstairs, locking herself in her bedroom. The room was quiet as Lola leant back against the wall, slowly slumping down until she reached the floor, with her knees tucked up to her chest. The silent cries returned as she realised how uncared for and lonely she felt, the realisation hitting her that her Mum really didn’t care about her. She always assumed it, but never knew how harsh it would feel until something like this happened.

Lola scrunched her eyes shut as her fingers travelled up the length of her shin, reaching the curve of her knees. They slowly ran down her smooth thigh before feeling the damaged patch of skin towards her upper leg. She tipped her fingertips backwards, applying pressure to the scars and newer cuts that were embedded into her flesh.

Lola dropped her head back against the wood of the door as she felt the slight sting of fingernails digging into cuts that had been healing, reopening the wound. She could feel the urge building inside her again. A heavy pang of angst in her chest and the lump in her throat from the stress of the situation was too emotionally painful to concentrate on. She needed the distraction, the craving for physical pain washing over her.

The vision of a fresh metal blade entered her mind, gliding against innocent milky white skin. The thought of it made a sickly feeling bubble and boil in her stomach, but also created a feeling of potential satisfaction and relief from the hurt she was feeling in her head.

“No” she muttered to herself, gritting her teeth together “No-“

“Lola?” Jake’s childlike voice interuppted the tense zone Lola was stuck in, and a soft knock on the other side of the door. Lola’s head snapped up and she gulped, sniffing and wiping beneath her eyes and nose.

She stood up quickly and turned to open the door slightly, seeing her little brother standing on the other side with a worried look. Lola forced a smile and brought him into her room. Jake jumped up on the bed and Lola joined him, trying to avoid letting him see the black mascara stains gathered in the creases of her eyes.

Jake sided up to his older sister, nuzzling into her side for comfort as he held a toy under his other arm.

“Where’s my Mummy?”

Lola wrapped her arm around him, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t worry about that right now” was all she answered with, knowing he’d believe her that it was really nothing to worry about. Everything Lola told Jake he believed to be true, as he trusted her more than anyone. He knew her intentions were to look after him, and he seeked comfort in Lola whenever he was worried or frightened. In his eyes, she knew everything and was afraid of nothing in the world. Lola tried to maintain that image, hoping he’d never see the vulnerable, cloudier side of her moods.

“Why are you crying?” he frowned, looking up at her and seeing the excess water pooling in her eyes. Lola once again wiped them quickly before giving him another reassuring smile, hoping he would reciprocate it.