Chapter 17

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We spent a week and three days in the safe home. Everyday we saw who could wrap themselves in the most blankets. We shared countless kisses and cups of tea. Everyday I fell asleep cuddled into his arms. No signs of brutal gang members were shown at the safe home Well that is not until day eleven.

Harry's P.O.V

I woke up to the sound of my phones irritating default ringtone. I slid my thumbs across the smooth and coldy-fogged over screen.

"Mm hello?"

"Zayn is in the hospital and alive. He's alive Harry and he's pissed beyond belief."

I couldn't believe what Niall's Irish accent was telling me. Alive? I left him laying there ready to bleed to death. How could have that dumb fucker be alive? How could he touch Lily like that? I just want to bash his head in whenever I think about his useless and sex driven kisses planted all over Lily. They meant nothing and I wanted nothing more than to plant meaningful kisses on her. To wake up to her angelic face every morning and kiss her soft forehead.

I leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Lily's forehead followed by one on her lips. Her deep blue eyes fluttered open before a small yawn escaped her mouth. A sweet morning smile crept up on her scarlet lips. She would never realize how beautiful she was in the morning. She was her most vulnerable and serene in the morning. The way her blue eyes were glassy and her hair spilled all around her delicate frame.

"Lily I have to tell you something and I know it won't be easy," I said as I cupped her small hand in mine.

"Zayn is alive."

Lilys P.O.V

On day eleven Harry got a call from Niall. Zayn was in the hospital and he was alive, alive and utterly pissed off. Alive, Zayn is alive. These words rattled my bones and were attached to my core. The constant reminder of his hungry lips on me were forever in my mind. Harry said I was whiter than a sheet when he lets those words tumble from his mouth. Unlike him no words could tumble out of my mouth. I laid in his arms deadly silent. Shivers sent down my spine so often that my whole body went numb.

The feeling of his meaningless kisses trailed all over my body. I wasn't pure. I never was. I could never be for Harry.

How could I be so dumb to think Harry would want a used up thing called myself.

I lifted Harry's rather large and muscly arms off me and slowly paced into the kitchen. I had nothing but a baggy white t-shirt over my bare frame. I surely looked like a sick person with my bird nest like hair and slow pace. I took a baggie of green tea and placed it into a plain black mug filled with steaming hot water. In all honesty sometimes I put weed in my tea bags, just on bad days that needed some perk to them.

I place my right hand into the dainty handle of the mug and made my way over to the coach. I sat Indian style on the couch with the tea in between my legs. After staring at the wall for 15 minutes I made my way over to my jacket and pulled out a cigarette and my lighter. I thought my old ways were over.

"Is that a cigarette?"

"Yes Harry it is," I said a little too bitchy.

"I thought you quit."

"I'll quit when you quit all this dumb gang shit."

"It's too late for that," he said his eyes a cold, unwelcoming shade of green.

"Then I guess it's to late for me to quit," I replied before smirking and prancing away.

Harry's P.O.V

I can't believe she started smoking again. Over such a silly reason. "I'll quit when you quit all this dumb gang shit." It's not dumb shit. This "dumb shit" is keeping her alive. If it wasn't for me she'd still be in the adoption center. Then again if it wasn't for me she would have never had to go in the first place. I never realized how badly I ruined her life. No wonder there's always a cigarette perched between her two small fingers.

I walked away from my awkward stance to go find her. I had to mend a few things before the stitches barely holding us up, came loose.

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