Criminal (punk harry styles)

Chapter three

Delilah's P.O.V.

Watching the mysterious boy eat tinned spagetti was more intriguing than watching him sleep. He ate like a wild animal, as if he hadn't eaten in months - who knows, maybe he hadn't - and the sauce was seeping out from the corner of his mouth, threatening to spill onto the clean clothes I had given him to wear after the shower he took. At some point he'd even choked on the thin strings from swallowing too fast, but he'd quickly cough and continue eating.

He slammed the now empty can on the bench and took a deep breath of air, wiping the back of his large hand across his mouth.

"Thank you," he smiled, revealing a big, dimpled grin.

"Did you like it?" I asked eagerly.

"It's nothing I haven't eaten before," he shrugged, making me giggle like a kid. Oh how nice someone else's company was, even if they were a wanted criminal.

"So what's your name?" I asked casually, leaning my elbows against the table as he tossed the can into the bin beside the fridge. 

"Harry," he yawned. "Harry Styles."

"Ooh, that's a name you'd expect a celebrity to have," I said, raising my thick eyebrows.

"In a sense, I am a celebrity."

"Yeah, but all you did was rob a bank. Why is that such a big deal?" I asked. When he didn't respond, I frowned. "Harry?"

"That's... not really what I did," he muttered, looking down at the floor. "My step-dad - a horrible man really - he's always treating my mum and I like shit. I've always let him get away with the abusive language and and hits aimed at me, but then a few nights ago when I came home from work, I walked in on him hitting my mother, which is just too far for me. I grabbed him by the neck and used the closest thing I could find to hurt him the way he did her, which turned out to be a knife."

I was silent before whispering, "That's so heroic!"

Harry shook his head and laughed, a deep, throaty sound which was actually really attractive.

"How are you not scared?" he wondered aloud, staring me down with his cat-like eyes.

"I never really grew up around danger. When you live with the type of protection my parents gave me from the world, you never have to be scared of. I don't think I've ever been scared in my life," I shrugged.

"Not even in the eyes of a murderer?" he raised an eyebrow in a menacing manner.

"Not even in the eyes of a murderer," I winked.

"You're so weird."

"So I've been told."

The house phone started to ring, cutting off his response.

"I bet that's my mom," I muttered, picking up the ancient thing from the kitchen wall beside Harry's head and pressing it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hey sweetie! Just checking up on how you're doing."

"Mom, you rang less than 12 hours ago with the exact same excuse," I laughed, swatting my hair from my face in the process. "I'm fine, you need stop worrying so much."

"But-"

"No buts, mom," I said jokingly, twisting the long chord around my finger nervously. I wonder what my mom would think about safety if she ever found out I had a criminal over for the night. Harry waltzed over to the cupboard and scanned the shelves boredly, searching for god knows what - probably more food. "Now go enjoy your anniversary before Dad calls the whole thing off and flies your butt back to America."

"Okay," she sighed. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"For the last time, yes! Now go."

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "I'll go now. Be careful okay? I love- Delilah, what was that?"

My breath hitched as Harry stood frozen with sugar pooling at his feet, small shards of glass littering the floor around him. Shit.

"N-Nothing." I stammered, trying to wrap up the conversation before anything else bad could happen. "Just dropped the phone. Now go have a good time, and stop calling so much!"

"Okay," she said slowly, obviously unconvinced. "I'll call you later. You're father's really annoyed with me now. I Love you."

"Love you too." I slammed the phone back into the cradle and leaned my head back on the wall, closing my eyes and letting out a breath I was unaware of holding. "That was close."

"I'm so sorry, I was just trying to get to the noodles and-"

"It's okay," I smiled, closing the small distance between us and patting his shoulder. "It was an accident, right? Besides, nobody really liked that jar anyway. Don't bother yourself about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

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(Ugh seriously hate this chapter! I edited it twice and I'm still not satisfied. -.- Just wondering, do you guys want longer chapters, or do you like it short? Lemme know! 10 votes and 5 comments for the next chapter. Adios!)
ps OMG 100 READS ALREADY YOU GUYS ARE FABULOUS THANK YOU SO MUCH