Clash | Harry Styles

Chapter 31

Harry's P.O.V

"Harry," I hear Ashley's soothing voice as I stare down at my unconscious dad sprawled on the floor. "Come on Harry answer me, please you're starting to worry me now!" She continues panic lacing her words.

I'm unsure how long I've been standing here, a few minutes, hours? I don't care. My life is over if I let anything happen to this man. The man who drinks when things get too much for him, the man who hasn't said he loves me since the day my mother passed. He's a terrible man but, but he's my dad and I'd be damned if he wasn't here anymore. Not to mention Gemma she'd be devastated.

The memories start invading my vision.

My mom falling...

My mom hitting her head...

Dré and I sat on the stairs watching everything play out confused and angry but unable to do anything. I don't...I can't...

"He's alive," I faintly here Dré call out from somewhere in the blurred out room.

He's alive?

"Dré I think he's in shock. Harry come on your dad is fine, please come back to me." I think she's crying? Why? I feel her pulling on my hand, tugging it to grasp my attention but I can't get my body to move the way I want it to.

"Move," Dré orders when moments later I feel a fist connecting with my face shooting me back into the present at full speed.

"What the fuck Dré?" I immediately shout staggering back a pace blinking rapidly. My hand goes up to my cheek; I'm defiantly going to have a bruise there tomorrow. Not to mention a huge gash from that stupid bottle.

"See it worked." Dré smiles smugly.

"You didn't have to fucking hit me you prick!" I argue.

"Ah, yes I did. You were stood here like a bloody statue while our dad is unconscious on the floor, you can thank me later." Dré continues with his self-victory of getting to hit me, again.

"Harry?" Ashley, who is still holding my hand in a death iron grip, says. I turn to her as soon as the words leave her mouth. Tears stream down her flushed cheeks and her bottom lip is trembling slightly.

"You okay?" I ask, drawing her closer to my body. My arms wrap around her waist, our foreheads touching.

"Yeah, but we need to help your dad..." She murmurs softly.

"I know. I...I love you Ash," I say I think for the first time really truly meaning it.

I've never said that too her before every time I've tried in the past I've either been cut off or couldn't find my nerve in case she doesn't reciprocate the feelings but I needed to say it, to show her that I do really care about her and to get me through these next few minutes. If she's by my side I can get through just about everything.

Ashley's P.O.V

My breath catches in my throat. He said it. I honestly thought he's never say it truly meaning it, not after the shit that's happened but he just did and my insides are going crazy. I know he's in shock so I probably shouldn't take anything too serious but my heart is taking over my brain.

"Harry, help me get him on the sofa?" Dré interrupts. "You get his legs and I'll get his arms."

"Sure," Harry pulls away from my grasp reluctantly. He takes hold of his dad's legs, while Dré takes his arms; they silently count to three before heaving him onto the sofa. I watch silently for a few seconds more before turning on my heel and heading into the kitchen to get a damp, cool cloth, an icepack and a bandage for his head - I don't know if he's bleeding but I'll get it nonetheless.