Abandoned (A Harry Styles FanFic)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"What did I say about coming between the pack? It's your third day here and you can't follow simple rules or respect my requests. I have half a mind to lock you in your room for a year!" Obviously he would get over himself quickly. I know that wasn't a real kiss. Mickey knows, even though I'm sure he wishes it was, it wasn't a real kiss. Brandon to some pretty large extent knows I was not all too passionate about Mickey.

"We've been over this, I did it in spite of getting some other creep off my back," it's not a lie, "Mickey was pretending to be my boyfriend, it was all just an act," I somewhat fib.

"But you don't get it, he's a boy. It might have started as an act, but what if I hadn't stepped in? He's a man with desires and you're a pretty girl who gave him a pretty convincing kiss," he scolds and I roll my eyes. His scolding is always so sarcastic, it's almost as if he doesn't believe himself. How am I supposed to take him seriously when he can't take himself seriously.

"What if you hadn't, would he have dishonored the brocode and tried to take advantage of me? Do you lack so much faith in one of your own brothers?"

He stares blankly at me, thinking, endlessly thinking, "You're dismissed!" he commands, "And you're grounded until death!"

"I'll pack my stuff and run away!" I give a sarcastic shout back and pretend to storm to my room as if either of us actually cared. As if I actually lacked trust in my brother's friends when all my brother has been trying to do is build a community between them and myself.

***

Several days later after hanging low and fighting a pretty awful cold, I continue to hang out in my room just doodling with a random blue inked pen, tracing symbols and circles onto the white frame around the window. I don't want to spread my germs in this dirt-infested town as ironic as it sounds. There's this one thing I draw every time I pick up a pen, it's stereotypical, I know. But it's something I've wanted painted onto my skin since I was little and found out tattoos existed. It's this image I envision of a dream catcher, one of those small dainty ones that you'd hang at the head of your bed, with three feathers hanging from it. One of the feathers eventually starts to break into birds flying away as if they're trying to fulfill their dreams. I know, it's basic. But I've wanted it since I was four and to give up, now, on something that's always given me hope would be stupid. It would be so foolish.

I spend hours just doodling on the chipped paint before Mickey quietly creeps into my room, "Hey, how are you feeling?" he says and frankly startles me.

"Um hi Mickey, I'm doing a bit better, wouldn't get too close though, what's up?" I ask and scribble out my doodles so that no one would see them and tease me for them.

"About earlier this week. Um, could we talk about what that was?" I nod as if asking him to continue, "I, um, I don't wanna be like your toy. I don't wanna be teased just because you're trying to intimidate someone. Especially if that was a show for Harry because I couldn't take him...if it came down to like...like a fight physically or emotionally. He'd demolish me if we ever got into anything. I know it's not realistic because Brandon would beat my ass, but I've had my eye on you. Maybe it's because I need a rebound, but you're like a great girl. But I don't want you to take that as an invite to use me as eye candy or whatever."

"Mickey I...I've been here for a few days. I don't know what I want yet and I don't know anyone here yet." I stand up and walk over to him, "You're so sweet and you're a great guy as far as I know, but a boyfriend isn't something I'm looking for right now." And that's 100% true. Why pick someone to date right now when who I used to be is going to completely change, meaning my taste will change and the type of people who like me will change.