Blood Will Tell || Harry Styles

Part 53

"You told me that you never got the other paintings from my room!"

"No. I asked you if you there was more. You were the one that wasn't being specific in regards to what paintings you were talking about, Baby Girl."

"Don't you "Baby Girl" me, asshole. You knew all along what paintings I were talking about."

"Did you really paint these months before you even spoke your first word to me?"

"That is none of your business." I started walking towards the entry, making my shoulder contact Harry's body as I did so to prove my point of being pissed off.

I had just gotten past Harry when my arm was grabbed in his large hand.

"Answer me Natalie. If you want to continue acting like a spoilt brat you will be punished."

"What do you want from me?"

"You intrigue me. I want to know why you painted those pictures before you knew me and I want you to explain every painting, including the ones down stairs."

I ignore Harry and try to pull my arm out of his grip but that only causes him to tighten his digits.

"Let go of me Harry. I don't owe you any answers." I kept pulling at my arm, twisting and turning it, trying to do anything to get free.

I was suddenly falling backwards onto the ground, slamming my head on the leave seat as I did so. It took me a few moments to realise that with the effort I put into releasing my arm was used against me as Harry removed his grip completely, causing myself to go tumbling to the ground.

I was about to stand when I felt Harry's boot enclosed foot make contact with my stomach. I curled over myself, wrapping my arms around my torso to gather some sort of relief from the ache I was feeling.

I felt Harry's hands on my face and I braced myself, waiting for more of his punishment to come. I had begun to be accustomed with the mood swings of Harry. The entire time I had been with him I was able to see how quickly his mood changes, resulting in beatings and bruises.

It had been a while since the last time Harry had given me any sort of beating in a while so I was sort of expecting this one. Never the less, I was hoping it never came again.

My head was lifted off the ground into a seating position. I felt my stomach groan in protest but Harry didn't care. My back was pushed to rest against the seat, Harry squatting in front of me with my face still in his hands.

"You seem to have that bad attitude of yours back Natalie. I will not tolerate. So you better lose it quick smart before you start losing body pieces."

The fire in Harry's eyes was worse than I had ever seen and that frightened me. Over the past few days Harry's body language had changed drastically. I assumed that he was under stress with all the extra training he was doing for me but is there something else?

I ignored the thoughts in my mind and decided to try and calm Harry down. I knew the only way I was going to get out of this was to tell Harry the meaning behind all the paintings but how was I going to do that when I can't understand it completely myself?
"O-okay." I nodded my head, hoping Harry understands that I was agreeing to his request. I was pleased to see he comprehended the message when he moved and pulled the both of us up to our feet.

I followed Harry as he leads us over to his desk. He lifted me onto the top, throwing a few papers out of the way before leaning on the edge and crossing his arms.

I was nervous with what was going to happen even though we were only going to be speaking. I realised that from our position all my paintings were visible. I looked around the walls and saw more scattered around, not knowing how I missed them in my first assessment of the rooms décor.

"Start with that one right there." I followed Harry's finger as he pointed to the painting on the far wall. I was pleased to see that he started with one of the less embarrassing ones.

This painting was a picture of a shirtless Harry. Of course the work was done before I ever spoken to Harry, much like the others, let alone seen him shirtless; so the lack of knowledge in regards to his torso was evident.

The painting consisted of Harry standing in a dark forest, a knife in one hand and the other wrapped around a girl; it wasn't any girl though, it was me.

Looking back at the painting and I see so many flaws that I am feeling self-conscious about the way I did things but I know Harry isn't worried about that.

He wants to know why I painted him half naked and holding my waist and a knife when I didn't even know him. I looked down and swung my feet on the table, trying to think up the right words to express this mess.

I am well aware of Harry's gaze on me but I try to ignore it.

"Well, as I have said before most of the paintings that you have in the house were scenes of dreams that I have had. That one there I can't remember so much, but like I remembered us standing in a forest with you holding a knife."

I looked over at Harry to see his reaction to what I was saying to him but saw that his face was blank. His attention was entirely on the painting I was trying to discuss.

Without any comment Harry pointed to a neck one; a more recent one. It was a portrait of Harry.

"I was working on this when I first saw you outside my window. Like not right then but that week. I had seen you a few times clearly from art class but still hadn't spoken to you. I had memorized every feature about you since I was always looking at you..." As I said the last sentence I looked down, not wanting to know what Harry was thinking.

Once again no comment was made and we went through every painting individually. The more I explained what each painting was the more embarrassed I became. As I thought up the reasoning behind each painting and saying it out loud, I began to realise how strange this whole concept was.

Harry had said a very limited words throughout the entire encounter and I was starting to worry. I didn't expect him to be tremendously vocal but I assumed he would say a few more things than he was currently saying.

"What about all the ones down stairs Natalie. They are me also aren't they?" Harry brought a glass to his lips, taking a large mouthful to empty the glass. The drinking had started a few paintings in and I had lost count of just how many refilled glasses touched his lips.

I looked down at Harry's question, knowing there was no way now that I can deny it. Not trusting my voice, I nodded my head in answer. I didn't need to check to see if Harry was looking to see my response as the burning gaze on the side of my face was much too evident.
I heard the glass make contact with the dark mahogany, signalling that Harry was ready to remove his body from the desk.

I looked up, not yet moving from my position. I watch as Harry walked into the middle of the room, running his fingers through his hair. His back was to me but I could see the tension in his muscles through the thin material of his tight black shirt.

Harry suddenly turned, instantly locking eyes with me.

"Sommer was right. You were fucking obsessed with me..."