Even Angels Fall (Harry Styles)

Chapter 16

Even Angels Fall ~ Chapter 16

(A/N): IMPORTANT! Listen to "Make You Feel My Love" by Adele while reading for the full expericence if you want! It's attached on the side. xx

“I am the devil,” he whispered, “and I’ve fallen for an angel.”

I frowned down at him, clutching my chest as if I could feel the tremendous thud of my heart hitting my stomach. My breath would only come in ragged puffs as I struggled to untangle myself from him and move away. He watched me intently, an almost hurt expression adorning his near-perfect features. “What’s wrong?” He called, sitting up as I stumbled towards the door. I only shook my head as I raced through the house as if I were mad. I felt lost in the sea of marble and chiseled stone, ornate glassware and framed hallways. All but tumbling down the central staircase I threw open door after door in my manic attempts to escape. But what I was escaping I knew not.

I tumbled into the kitchen, trembling hands sifting through cupboards to snatch a glass cup and choke down icy water. I braced my hands on the sink as I fought to hold back the tears pooling in my eyes. My resistance faltered as I heard Harry screaming my name, his feet pounding on the floor as mine had. It’d be seconds before he burst through that door. I’d no less thought it before he was standing before me, panting and panicked. “What happened?” I bit down on my lip as I watched a drop of water slide down the side of the glass and pool in its base.

“How many glasses do you have in here, Harry?” I tried with all my will to keep my voice stable. “What? Why does that matter, what’s go-“

“How many?!”

“I-I don’t know!” he stuttered, looking about him frantically. I took the cup in my hand, slamming the edge down firmly against the counter. The fragile crystal snapped and shattered, glittering shards scattering against the bench top and the ground. He looked at me in unadulterated bewilderment. I held up the remaining base of the cup in my hand, peering at the distorted image of the boy in front of me through the fissured glass. “Can you fix it?” I asked, gesturing to the splintered remains. He stared at me as if I’d gone mad and took a step forward. “Rose…”

“Can you fix it, Harry?” My resolve crumbled as tears streaked down my face. He shook his head as he took another step forward. “No,” he said softly, “no but there are plenty more of them. Here,” he opened a cabinet, pulling several identical glass cups from the shelving. I only sobbed harder and now that he stood before me he took the remains from my hands and tossed them into the sink. “Or I could buy another one.” He said, his voice almost pleading understanding of my tempestuous outburst.

“Exactly,” I croaked, my voice catching and cracking on a sob. “I’m broken Harry,” I shook my head, “destroyed, ruined!” His eyes widened and he reached out a hand for me but I turned my face away. “When a toy gets wrecked Harry, you’d throw it away and buy another.” He balled his fists at his sides and fixed me with a hard stare. “You’re not a toy, Rose. I’m not here to play with you.” I looked back at the fuming boy and took a step towards him. I allowed my fingers to trace the lines of his face, gently over his full lips, through his curls.

“You can’t fix me, so you can’t love me.” He hushed me with the gentle whisper of his fingers against my flesh. “I can’t fix you,” he began and every fear in my mind tore at the seams and began to trickle through the gaping hole in my chest, “because I don’t have the pieces.” I peered up at him through my matted lashes as he swiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumb.

“Girl let me love you and I will love you until you learn to love yourself,” he sang softly to me, cupping my face in his hands.

“For fear of it myself I won’t tell you I love you,” he whispered, raw emotion in his voice, “but maybe…maybe in some time and place, maybe if I showed you my scars and you showed me yours, I could love you. And maybe, by some miraculous chance, you could love me also.”