Break Me-A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 27-Understanding

Panic.

Panic overwhelms me, building up in my chest, and applying an intensifying pressure onto my pounding heart. The pressure amplifies, and I feel as though I may combust, to cave in on myself and emaciate into an indefinite nothingness. My breaths release unevenly, windpipes producing shaky and trembling air that gets caught in my throat as it tries to escape.

My brain continuously antagonizes me with the reoccurring image of Harry's eyes when he saw the self inflictions on my skin, green irises being sucked of life, happiness draining from them as the truth became revealed to him. I can see the war conflicting behind his expressive eyes, waging back and forth, an unreadable emotion buried deep within the sparkling emerald.

"Bella," His voice is soft, quiet, pleading as it penetrates the drowning silence that we've been residing in.

Unwanted tears involuntarily leak from my blue eyes, dripping down my cheeks and splashing onto my trembling lips. The salty taste of the water stings my mouth, but I do not wipe the escaped tears from my burning flesh, merely allowing them to slip silently down my face in a large abundance.

Unable to formulate a legitimate response, I simply shake my head, shutting my eyes as a sob erupts from the back of my throat. Feeble whimpers fall from my parted lips as an uncontrollable hysteria overwhelms me, breaths trembling and uneven, tears unconstrained and never ending.

"Bella, please." Harry's words once again leak into the heavy silence, voice weak and laced with sadness.

He reaches his hand out to touch me, but immediately stops himself, as though if he produces any sort of contact with my paled flesh, I will shatter beneath his fingers.

I need to collect myself, to attempt to hold onto my straining composure that has been breaking at the seams. Once the thin and weak strings that compose me snap, it will be impossible to resew them, and I will forever remain broken, and unfixable.

I take a deep breath.

"I-I don't know what to say." I admit sadly, tears relentlessly slipping from my dull blue eyes.

"Why did you do that to yourself?" Harry asks, his voice no longer holding evidence of weakness, all frailty being replaced with that of anger, green eyes clouding with darkness, jaw locking in place.

He's mad at me.
He hates me.
He never wants to see me again.

I can see all that I've feared manifesting in front of me, whether they be irrational or not, these anxieties have been pent up inside of me since the day that I met Harry. Now that my self inflictions have become exposed to him, my vulnerability unshielded, I am certain that Harry will leave me, and want nothing to do with me ever again.

Heaving an impotent sigh, my gaze falls to my lap, dainty fingers anxiously fumbling.

"I'm sad." Is all I can manage, pathetic voice cracking mid-sentence, tears continuously pouring from my eyes.

It feels like Harry takes hours to formulate an appropriate response, each passing moment of silence causing my heart to pump loudly in my chest. He parts his lips to say something, but I decide that I don't want to hear his words of discouragement, my fragile state incapable of being on the receiving end of Harry's wrath, and disappointment. I sit up from my lying position, and stand from Harry's bed, the room suddenly feeling much more cramped than before.

"I should go." I sniffle, furiously wiping tears from my cheeks, but it's no use, the salty droplets have yet to cease their current flow from my red-rimmed eyes.
  Head hung low, and figure trembling, I begin to make my descent towards the wooden door, a heavy weight placed on my heart to remain for eternity. As I take a step, Harry's hand flies out, and grasps my forearm firmly, preventing me from making another movement.
"No," He discourages me. "You're not leaving." I turn to face him, peering hesitantly into his sparkling irises, emerald laced with anger and hurt.
  "Why do you want me here?" I sob, voice shaky and pathetically sad. "If you hate me, then why torture me by keeping me here?" My words obviously have a great affect on Harry, for once my small speech has finished, he jumps up, towering over my wobbling frame in an intimidating manner.
  "Who said that I hate you Bella?!" He raises his voice, face inching closer to mine. I shake my head, screwing my eyes shut tightly, as feeble sobs burst from behind my parted lips.
  "Stop!" I cry, eyes opening to be greeted by the close proximity of Harry's. "Just let me go." The volume of my voice has decreased drastically, now coming out helpless and impotent.
  Suddenly, Harry's arms fly up, and I flinch away, expecting him to hit me, and experience the burning of flesh after any sort of physical contact.
  What takes me by surprise, however, is when his strong arms wrap around my petite body protectively, my fragile figure trembling beneath his touch, a new round of tears flowing from my eyes like a heavy rainfall. His head dips down to the crook of my neck, forehead resting on the clammy skin, hot breath fanning over the flesh.
  Neither of us speak for what feels like ages, standing in the tension filled air, wrapped in each other's arms, as we both collect our whirling thoughts. My tears eventually subside, and I fall into a state of numbness, all feelings and life draining from me, an inexpressive sadness replacing my previous anxieties and worry.
  Eventually, we break apart, my body suddenly acknowledging the empty spaces in which Harry's body used to fill, a cold shiver raking through my frame. Harry's eyes display no evident emotion, merely remaining lifeless, and dull. He guides me back to sit on his bed, eyes locked on mine, not once leaving my gaze.
  "Bella," His voice is calm, quiet. "Tell me why you did this to yourself. What happened to you?" His eyebrows furrow, features hardened as he attempts to keep his anger at bay. I'm unaware as to whether he is angry at me, or the situation, either way, I feel an overwhelming need to shy away, to feebly recoil and apologize for his accidental seeing of my cuts.
  I shake my head, unprepared to inform him of my scarring and traumatizing past, he had promised not to prod me for an explanation.
  "But you said-"
  "Forget what I said. Now I'm making you tell me." He demands sternly. I heave a sigh, my eyes flicking down to my lap once more, chewing my bottom lips anxiously as I twist and turn my fingers.
  "Ok." I agree simply, somber voice holding nothing but sadness and emptiness. I know I have no choice in the matter, I know that no matter what, after this day Harry will never want to see me again.
  So I tell him. I tell him everything of my past relationship, the way that he, Charlie, used to drink profusely and hurt me. The way he pressured and tormented me, the way I was desperately, pathetically, and undeniably in love with him, to the point of being too fearful to leave him. So in love, that I was willing to endure all of his physical and emotional abuse just to ensure that he would never leave me, that I would never be alone. I tell him of my parents finally finding out after Charlie had beaten me to a pulp, the police discovering my unconscious body in a dark alley, Charlie fleeing the town to never return.
  But then I stop. I need to keep some of my past to myself, some private matters confidential. So I do not tell him of my stay in a psychiatric hospital, I do not tell him of my  constant feel of detachment from the world around me, that at any given time a hungry need overtakes me, only satisfied by the unzipping of my veins, eyes finding pleasure in the sight of blood flourishing at the base of my arm, flowing out in a large and unstoppable abundance.
  I observe Harry's reactions intently throughout the course of my tale, emerald irises occasionally glazing over, but quickly subduing, for I know Harry would never allow a single tear to slip from his eye, blinking the droplets away hurriedly.
  Once I've finished my story, I stare at Harry, a spark of courage is ignited within me, and when our eyes lock, I do not recoil shyly, too fearful to hold his gaze, instead I allow the emerald irises to bore into mine, unblinking, and intense. A heavy silence creeps into the room once more, palpable tension pouring into the space, and drowning us both in it. I wait patiently for Harry's response, for him to kick me out of his room, and demand I never speak to him again.
  "Say something." I urge him, my words poking holes in the quiet, and dissolving its suffocating grip. Harry's brow furrows further, but I am unable to decipher which emotion is buried within his hard and masculine features.
  "We should go to bed." He whispers coldly, turning away from me, and crawling under the fluffy duvet. The front of his body faces the wall, green eyes blinking up at the concrete deep in thought. A new round of tears spring from my eyes, rolling down my paled cheeks, and splashing onto my dress. I knew that Harry would want nothing to do with me, it was as I predicted, but I hadn't expected it to plant such a heavy weight onto my already fragile and unstable chest. Rising from my seated position, I shuffle towards the door, vision blurring every so often as new tears pour from my tired eyes.
  "I have clothes you can wear to bed in my clothing chest." Harry mumbles from under the blankets, and I turn to face him in surprise. I hadn't expected him to allow me to stay. Meekly, I do so, wiping the fallen tears from my wet cheeks, and grabbing a pair of his shorts, and large t-shirt from the wooden chest. Too exhausted to stalk into the bathroom, I unzip my dress from where I stand, knowing full well that Harry wouldn't look at me if I begged him.
  I peel my clothing off, eyes narrowing at the sight of my battered and scarred wrist. Though it may not be the most appropriate way to obtain Harry's attention, I hover in my underwear momentarily, hoping to catch his eye, and question his peculiar reaction. I fake an awkward cough, desperate for Harry's gaze to land on my petite frame. He makes no attempts in doing so, and I heave a sigh, tugging his oversized clothing onto my body, and shuffling over towards Harry's bed, shutting off the light in the process.
  I climb into bed beside Harry, his toned and muscular back is faced towards me, and I want nothing more than to wrap my tiny arms around it, and squeeze.
  "Harry?" I whisper sadly, pathetically desperate for his arms around me. I receive no response, and turn away from him, silently crying myself into a deep sleep.

~*~

As I lie in bed, enveloped in the darkness, I can't help but pry my eyes open, thinking back to the amazing time that I've been having so far, a smile creeping onto my lips as I recall the events that have taken place in the past couple of weeks. Never in my life have I had a real boyfriend, and now that I have one, nothing will truly compare. Just as my eyelids flutter closed, the obnoxious vibrations of my phone snap them back open. I grab the device, unlocking my screen as I check my text messages.

1 Message from Charlie

My grin grows wider, as I read his confusing yet heart fluttering text message.

come outside.

Suddenly, I hear a tapping on the glass of my window, then another, and another. I flick the switch of the light, and my bedroom is illuminated. Jumping out of bed, and over to the glass pain, I look down, and see none other than Charlie throwing pebbles up onto the second floor, perfectly hitting my window each time. I pull the glass open, a warm summer breeze immediately hitting my face.
  "What are you doing here?" I quietly call to him, careful not to wake my sleeping parents.
  "I came to see you. I can't stop thinking about you." He confesses, and my heart thumps inside of the confinements of my chest. Without warning, I climb out and onto the roof, cautiously maneuvering my way down the surface, and eventually grasping a hold of the rose paneling that runs up the side of my house, and slide my way down to the ground. My hand is instantly grabbed, and tugged away from the safety of my home, Charlie leading my in the direction of his red sports car.
  "Where are we going?" I giggle, attempting to release myself from his firm grip, but to no avail.
  "Stay with me tonight." He demands, as though I have no choice in the matter. I stop in my tracks, feet clinging to the gravel on the pavement as my movements cease. Charlie and I have only been dating for a few weeks now, and I assume he doesn't want to just "hang out" at his place. I'm not ready to take such a large jump in our relationship, nor am I ready to take the final transition into adulthood, I'm not quite sure what's holding me back, but something in the back of my mind nags me to keep my clothes on.
  "I don't know about this.." I lower my gaze onto the ground, to avoid Charlie's honey colored glare.
  "Bella," he snaps, harshly grabbing my chin, and forcing my eyes to meet his. My heart's pace quickens, at his rough contact, never in my life has anyone intentionally inflicted pain on me. "You want to keep dating, right?" His words are harsh, being spit from his mouth like venom. Reluctantly I nod my head, terrified by the thought of being without him. "Then don't disobey me." He warns lowly, and I offer another silent nod of the head, allowing him to tug me along to his home.

I've only ever been to his house once before, but this time was different. This time I was more hesitant, more fearful.
  "Let's go upstairs to my room." His voice says from behind me, causing me to jump.
  "Charlie, I-I don't think this is a good idea." I plead, urgently begging for him not to pressure me into anything that I'm not ready for. My words have a strange affect on him, his eyes grow dark, clouded by anger, and his jaw locks in place.
  "Bella," He growls, his tone sending shivers down my spine. "Get upstairs, or I'll make you." I gulp, instinctively backing away from him, suddenly wondering what I've gotten myself into. I shake my head slowly, fearful that any sudden movement on my part will cause him to erupt.
  All too quickly, he advances towards me, his fingers grabbing a fistful of my long hair. I shriek in pain as it is roughly tugged, sending me to the ground with a large thud. My trembling figure remains idle, far too terrified to stand.
  "Get up." Charlie's deep voice demands furiously. Timidly, I do so, rising slowly from the ground to avoid angering him any further. "Now, I will tell you one more time to get upstairs, before you really make me mad." Tears spring in my eyes, as I part my lips to respond, but the only sound that I make is a pathetically feeble whimper.
  "I-I can't." I whisper, legs trembling profusely. "I can't sleep with you."

And he snaps.

His hand flies up, forcefully clapping down onto my cheek, as my head twists along with his movements. A stinging pain immediately accompanies the obvious red mark, a burning sensation rushing to the skin. Salty droplets pour from my eyes, dripping down onto my cheeks, and burning my reddened flesh as they roll down to my chin. My hands cradle my face, hoping to prevent any further abuse.
  "You stupid bitch." He spits, shoving me back onto the ground, my body hitting the hardwood floor harshly, trembling frame curling up into a ball in a weak attempt in protecting myself. I hear the sound of his footsteps stomping up the stairs, the slamming of his door indicating that he makes no plans in returning downstairs for the night. Once I'm alone, I allow the pent up sobs to escape from my throat, tears flowing from my eyes in a steady current, as I eventually drift into an unpeaceful and tempestuous sleep.

~*~

"No!" I hear myself shout, as I jolt awake, covered in sweat and tears. My entire body is shaking, shivering and shuddering under the warmth of the wool blankets.
  "Bella?" Harry's raspy and sleep filled voice reminds me that it was only a nightmare, that I am no longer forced to reside in my own personal living hell. I am ashamed to admit that fresh tears well up in my eyes, for what seems like the millionth time this evening, tumbling down my cheeks in clear blue droplets.
  "Harry?" My voice cracks, sadness and loneliness take me by the throat once I remember the way that Harry reacted to my self inflictions. Without another word, Harry's strong arms wrap around my trembling figure, causing an indescribable warmth to fuel my body. I burry my face into his bare chest, my tears wetting his inked skin.
  "Shh baby, it's ok. I'm here." He gently soothes me, the delicacy in his tone almost immediately calming me, a sense of serenity overcoming all other feelings of sadness. We lay in silence, and I wait for Harry's breathing to steady, indicating that sleep has engulfed him, but it never comes. Both anxiously awake, wrapped in each other, our confusing thoughts whirl throughout our brains, as our inner turmoil causes a havoc within us. Thoughts so loud, the silence doesn't feel at all like silence, merely an empty background for our screaming minds to penetrate.
  "Harry?" I finally pipe up, tears subsiding, leaving my stinging eyes blood shot and red rimmed.
  "Yeah?" His voice holds fear, confusion, but most of all, sadness.
  "D-do you hate me?" I have to ask, for that question has been eating away at my insides since the second that Harry's eyes caught hold of my scabbing cuts. I hold my breath as I wait for his response, biting my lip in an anxious anticipation.
  "I could never hate you." He admits, and I let out a relieved sigh, a portion of my anxiety emaciating. "I just didn't know what to say," Harry surprises me by continuing, looking down at me so that we lay face to face, the sparkles in his green eyes visible through the blackness of the night. "I'm sorry for reacting like that, you-you mean so much to me, and everything with my sister just came flooding back, you know? I was a dick, I know, I'm just always terrified of something bad happening to you, and now that I've found out about this," He gestures down to my scarred wrist. "It scares the shit out of me knowing that I can't protect you from yourself. I hate that you think that you're so alone that the only way to free yourself is by damaging your beautiful skin." By the end of his speech, he's almost out of breath, and I can't help but feel an aching knot squeezing at my heart.
  "I-I never thought what I was doing was hurting anyone else." I admit, lowering my gaze to Harry's chest, my dainty fingers resting upon the hard surface.
  "Cut me," Harry suddenly says, and I look up at him in confusion, brows furrowing and lips pursing.
  "What?"
  "Cut me." He repeats firmly, and I shake my head.
  "I could never hurt you like that." I say.

And suddenly I understand.

A/N

Hope you liked this chapter! From this point on, the story is going to get a little intense so be aware. Sorry this chapter is so long, I didn't realize it would be this length! :) xoxo