Break Me-A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 20-Cup of Tea

  Tears slip from my eyes as Harry and I ride in silence, Harry too angry to speak, and me too traumatized. The events reply in my mind like a giant movie projecting inside of my brain. The devilish smirk of the sketchy man as he unzipped my jacket, removing it from my small, defenseless body. All too quickly, the previous events of today clash with thoughts of him, and I feel numb. An abundance of sadness washes over me, draining my body of all energy. In these past few days, I've been able to keep my unhappiness at bay, a calmness sweeping over my entirety. But once a dark thought penetrates the illusion of contentment, dejection replaces all that I've felt, pounding down on me in huge waves, tugging me under its powerful undertow, and dragging me out to sea.
  Harry's car slows to a halt, as we approach a red light, and I turn my head to gaze out of the window. An infinite amount of thoughts swirl throughout my brain, speeding around, colliding with one another. My head hurts.
  I allow the final tears to splash onto my cheeks, before I close my eyes. I urge sleep upon myself, I want to forget, to loose myself in a deep slumber where no one from the outside can find me. My head rests against the cool glass of the window, and I fight with my eyelids to remain closed. They won't do it. They won't grant me sleep. Sighing, I lift my head. I bravely look up at Harry, who has said nothing this entire car ride. His jaw is locked tightly, and his fingers wrap around the leather steering wheel in an overpowering grip.
  "Harry?" I pipe up. He doesn't turn to face me, he keeps his dark, anger filled eyes locked on the road.
  "Mhm?" Is all I receive in response.
  "A-are you mad at me?" Before he can answer, the sound of a motor revving is heard clearly outside of my window. My head snaps in the direction of the noise, and when I make eye contact with the vehicle owner, my heart stops. The man who'd harassed me inside of the shop rides his motorcycle alongside Harry's car. He offers me a malicious smirk.
  "H-Harry!" I stammer, tears prickling my eyes once more. Harry slams onto the brakes, and we come to a jerking stop.
  "Is that the guy?" Harry's voice is low, and full of venom. I nod my head, eyes glazed over with warm tears. Harry swiftly unbuckles his seatbelt.
  "What are you doing?" I begin to panic. "Don't do anything stupid!"
  Harry ignores me, removing himself from his vehicle.
  "Don't get out of the car." He instructs me angrily. He slams the door, and as I try to hop out, he locks it.
  "Harry, stop!" I yell to him. I'm not sure if he can't hear me, or if he's just choosing not to. Either way, he stomps over to the dangerous man, who has pulled over onto the side of the road as well. Their mouths move, and I can make out their faint yells, but their words remain incomprehensible. It isn't until Harry throws the first punch that I really pay attention.
  "Harry! No!" I scream, frantically jiggling the door handle in hopes that it will open. Harry's fist connects with the man's face, and he stumbles backwards. Once he regains his balance, he charges at Harry full force, throwing a punch that Harry skillfully ducks.
  I unbuckle my seatbelt, and climb into the backseat, playing with both of the sturdy door handles. They won't budge. Jumping back into the passenger seat, I lean over to the driver's side to see if his handle will allow me the release that I desire.
  "You fucking prick!" Is heard loud and clear, Harry's deep and powerful voice rumbling throughout the area. I watch as Harry gets on top of the injured man, pounding his bloody knuckles into him repeatedly. My heart beats rapidly in my chest, if he doesn't stop, Harry will kill him. But he does stop eventually, throwing the bloody and bruised man to the concrete road before he begins to make his return to the car.
  A moving in the distance catches my eye. The injured man shakily stands from the ground, his legs barely supporting his large frame. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out a knife, slicing the air with his blade.
  "Harry!" I shriek in warning, slamming my fist onto a button on the side panel of the door. The window slightly parts from the wall, and I realize what I'd done. I hold down the button, the window rolling down at a painfully slow pace.
  Once the space where the window once stood is empty, I squeeze my small body through. Jumping from the car, I pump my legs as fast as they will allow.
  "Harry!" I scream, and he turns to face me, utterly surprised by my escape.
  I dash over to Harry, the icy air roughly filling my lungs as I sprint. In an attempt to create a distance between Harry and the dangerous man, I pull on Harry's arm. He turns to face the man, his knife inches from Harry's body. Before I can think about what I'm doing, I jump into Harry's arms, blocking him from the weapon.
  "Bella!" Is the last thing that I hear before the blade sears into my skin, piercing the flesh.


*******************


  "Bella?" My eyes flutter open, and I am lost in the color emerald. A pool of sea foam green greets me in a worried stare, and I can't stop a smile from spreading on my face, despite the pain I am in. Harry sits on the small bed that I lie in, white walls surrounding us.
  "Harry." Is all I say, as I squirm around, a sharp pain in my back makes itself known to me. I intake a sharp breath. "Ow!" Harry grabs my hand, releasing a relieved sigh.
  "I'm so glad you're ok, baby."
  "What happened?" Harry swipes a fallen piece of hair behind my ear, white bandages cover his hands to conceal his bruised knuckles.
  "You jumped in front of the guy's knife, and he stabbed you." Harry shakes his head. "Don't ever do that again, Bella! Do you understand? I don't need you to protect me, I'm the one who will protect you. Ok?" His small outburst of anger takes me by surprise, and all I can do is nod in compliance. He sighs once more.
  "Come here." He opens his arms out to me, and I am confused when I look down to see that I am wearing my own clothing, instead of the uniform gown all hospitals require. I lean into Harry, careful not to evoke the pain in my back. My head rests on his shoulder as he holds me in his strong arms.
  "Sorry to interrupt," A deep voice says, causing me to sit up. A man in a long white coat pulls back a curtain separating me from the emergency room. "I see that Bella is awake, so I've come to check up on her." I grip Harry's hand. "I'm Dr. Rossman." The man introduces. "How are you feeling?" I shrug.
  "My back hurts." Dr. Rossman chuckles.
  "I'm sure it does, you have a few stitches there." I look up at Harry, in need of an explanation.
  "You fainted when that prick stabbed you." Harry clarifies. Dr. Rossman uncomfortably clears his throat at Harry's foul language.
  "Um, anyway," Dr. Rossman continues. "We've contacted your school," My heart stops. "and they've informed me that you two were ditching class when these events took place." He lifts in arm, gesturing to me, referring to my injuries. I gulp.
  "How much trouble are we in?" I mumble.
  "Surprisingly, you are not in any trouble, Bella."
  "What? How is that possible?" I stammer.
  "Apparently your medical history reveals that you were in the hos-"
  "Um!" I interrupt the doctor. "Harry, can you wait outside for a second?" Harry looks back and forth between me and Dr. Rossman, obviously contemplating whether or not he should leave. Eventually he does, mumbling curses to himself as he pulls back the curtain in a huff.
  "Sorry." I frown. "I didn't want him to know." Dr. Rossman nods understandingly.
  "Bella, you were in a psychiatric hospital for quite some time this summer." Dr. Rossman explains as if I am unaware. "I need to know, was this a suicide attempt?" I stumble to my feet, and my head feels dizzy.
  "What? No!" I stammer. "Did my mother tell you to ask me this?"
  "The school board did speak to your mother, yes."
  "I-I'm not suicidal. I'm fine." I stutter, and I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince the doctor, or myself. I would never commit suicide. Would I? I've never truly considered the option of death.
  I pull back the curtain, and walk into the main portion of the room. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Rossman." My shaky legs walk me down the corridor to the waiting room where Harry sits.
  "Let's go." I obtain his attention, as he looks up at me.
  "Did the doctor say that you can leave?" Harry questions me. I don't respond, and he walks up to the receptionist to make sure that I am certain of my discharge. The plump woman at the station informs Harry that Dr. Rossman would like me to stay the night, and I am dragged up to the third floor to acquire my own room, instead of the temporary one offered to those emergency patients.
  "This is ridiculous." I mutter. "I'm fine, I don't need to be here." Harry chuckles, swinging our intertwined fingers back and forth playfully.
  "Yes you do, baby. You were badly hurt."
  "I don't even have that many stitches, your jacket stopped the blade from cutting me too deeply." I pout, and Harry shakes his head.
  "Whether it be four stitches or four hundred, you were stabbed. You need to rest here. It's just one night." I sigh, knowing he's right. A hospital gown is laid on my bed, and I grab the soft material in my fingers.
  "Do you mind?" I turn to Harry, who sits in one of the chairs resting next to my bed.
  "Not at all." He leans back, a smirk plastered on his face. I raise an eyebrow.
  "Turn around." I command, and he sticks out his bottom lip in a childish pout. He stands, and turns his back to me.
  "And no peeking." I giggle.
  "No promises." He retaliates. I peel my long sleeved sweater from my body, and am suddenly very aware of the red lines that run along my wrists. I pull my jeans down my legs, and put the hospital gown on. I tug my sweater over my head once more, layering the fabric onto the gown in an attempt to hide the scabbed flesh that stretches across my skin.
  "Ok, I'm done." Harry turns to face me, a small smile tugging at his lips as he strides over to me. He cups my cheek in his large hand, heat radiating onto my cold flesh.
  "You should get some rest, it's been a long day." His voice is soft and soothing. I remove myself from his touch, turning to look out of the window resting on the opposite side of the room. I walk over to the pain, pressing my hand against the icy glass, gazing out into the world beneath me.
  Pastels dance across the sky, shades of pink, orange, and red commingle with one another, painting the vast canvas that splays out beyond the horizon. The sun dips slowly under the hills in the distance, preparing for its daily retirement. I watch as cars zoom through the busy streets below me, honking their clamorous horns, and blasting their music. They all have somewhere important to go, for their indomitable speed suggests that they must arrive quickly. I feel stuck. Jammed in this stuffy room, I am left alone to dwell on the past. I am unable to get in a car and drive away, and therefore am forced to reside in this institution, where I am watched constantly, left without privacy, and am made to feel helpless.
  Strong arms suddenly wrap around my tiny frame, enveloping me in a tight hold. Brushing his curls against my neck, tickling me, I release a small squeak. Harry brings his full lips to my ear.
  "Come on, Bella. You need rest."
  "It's not even dark out." I comment. A comforting kiss is planted at the base of my neck, arising goosebumps in the sensitive area.
  "I'll shut the curtains, c'mon." He guides me away from the window, navigating me onto the soft mattress. I pull back the itchy blankets, and climb into the bed. Once my head hits the pillow, it feels heavy and exhaustive. My eyelids begin to weigh down, fluttering closed as my weary body shuts down, sleep engulfing me.


  I check the clock. 12 AM. Charlie said that he would be home at 10. I know that he hates when I wait up for him to come back, but what if he's in some sort of trouble? I sit at the kitchen table, arms firmly crossed over the wooden platform, as both exhaustion and worry spin wildly throughout my brain.
  I let out a sigh of relief as I hear the jingle of keys entering the lock, the creaking of the door echoing throughout the apartment, then slamming quickly.
  "Fuck!" A loud thud is heard, and I hear Charlie stumble into his home.
  "Bella?!" He roars. The relief that previously shielded me diminishes, an overpowering sense of fear taking its place, encompassing me tightly.
  "I-I'm in here." A small voice calls. The girl who sits in the wooden chair trembling is not me. The girl who lives in fear of the boy she loves cannot be the one who stares back at me in the mirror, blue eyes dull and dead, dark circles prominent below. The Bella that I once knew has left, fading away into nothingness. All that she left behind is this empty shell, full of despair and self hatred.
  He enters the kitchen, eyes red rimmed, and glazed over. He stomps his intoxicated form over to me, and I intake a sharp breath, unsure of his next move.
  "Make me some tea." He slurs angrily. I nod my head in compliance, walking over to the stove. I fill the kettle with water before I return it to its rightful place. I turn the handle, and the flame ignites, heating the water inside of the metal pot.
  "You know I hate it when you wait up for me." Charlie growls. I pull a mug from the cupboard, dumping two spoonfuls of sugar into the cup.
  "I'll go to bed right after this." I assure him. I try to remain as calm as possible, avoiding any and every way to provoke his already protuberant anger.
  The kettle pot screams, steam escaping from the spout in substantial puffs. I remove it from the stovetop, pouring it into the ready mug. I flick the handle on the front of the device, the fire diminishing before my eyes. I place the steaming cup in from of Charlie. He takes no milk in his tea.
  "Why do you always try to piss me off?" Charlie snarls at me. I blink up at him, shaking my head.
  "I don't."
  "Don't lie to me!" He yells, closing the distance between us. My body begins to tremble, a petrifying fear swathing me.
  "I-I'm sorry." I attempt to soothe him. "I'll just go to bed." Ducking my head, I try and squeeze through the small space in between his arm and torso. Once he realizes that I am escaping, he roughly tugs me back.
  "Don't walk away from me." He spits, and I nod vigorously. He looks down at me, meeting my fearful blue eyes in a honey colored glare. He stares at me for what feels like hours, as if deciding my fate. Eventually his choice is made, and my wrist is ripped from its dangling position. My hand is slammed onto the surface of the stovetop, the exterior still scorching hot. I howl in pain, as my flesh is held in place, tears pouring from my blue eyes without warning.
  "P-please! Stop!" I shriek, the sound of my burning skin crackles under the heat. His honey eyes bore into mine, hatred filling their entirety.
  Moments pass before he releases me, stomping out of the room without a word. I pull my burned flesh close to my heart, cradiling it as sobs raking throughout my chest, and I fall to the floor. The pain of the singed skin courses over the rest of my body, unconsciousness sweeping over me. I did this, I think to myself. I deserve this.


  My eyes jolt open, sweat drips down my forehead in salty droplets. My chest rises and falls quickly as I take in my surroundings. I lie in a single hospital bed, blackness from the night devouring the small room, light from the moon pouring in through the window. My eyes spot Harry, curled up in a chair next to my bed. His body is far too large for the small object, long legs spreading out over the sides. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, I almost do not wake him.
  "Harry?" I whisper. His eyes open slowly, a yawn forming in his mouth as he sits up.
  "Are you ok?" His raspy voice asks.
  "Can you come and sleep with me?" My voice is desperate, begging for his touch. A smile tugs at his lips as he stands, and walks over to the side of the bed. He removes his shoes before pulling the blankets back, and climbing in beside me. All trepidation dissolves, as Harry wraps his muscular arms around me, his body heat radiating onto me. I nuzzle my head into his chest, a sense of security washing over me.
  "I thought you left." I admit quietly. Harry's hold on me tightens, and he presses a kiss to my forehead, exhaustion overpowering me once again.
  "Never." He whispers.

Thanks so much for reading!! I can't believe Break Me has 1k reads!! I'll update again when this chapter gets to 10 votes :) Also, I've started a new Harry fanfic called Teenage Runaway, so if you all could check it out and tell me what you think it would be great! :) xoxo

Twitter: @slamminstyles