Fix You- a Harry Styles Fan Fiction (UNDER EDITING)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

~Two Months Later~

It had been forever since I had seen my parents, so as I was sitting in the car with Harry as we drove back home after a day out, I decided to stop by my house and see how they were doing.

Harry glanced at me, confused, "You wanna see your parents? Babe, what if they-"

"They won't do anything to me. I know you don't like them, but I want to check on them. I haven't seen them since I moved in with you the first time."

He sighed and stared at the road as he turned down my street, clutching the steering wheel tightly with worried eyes. I rested my hand on his knee and he relaxed a little, putting his hand on mine. I was a little nervous too. My parents might do something totally random, or they could be nice for once. Maybe, since I was out of their lives, they might be a little different.

I swallowed as he pulled into the driveway. The living room light was on, making me even more nervous. Harry squeezed my hand lovingly and parked the car.

"You ready?" he asked quietly.

I nodded as he opened the driver's side door, walking around to my side to wait for me. I opened my door and grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers loosely. I could tell he grinned when I did that when he licked his lips to hide it.

I lead him to the front porch. It smelt like ashes and alcohol, with a hint of sweat. They had really let this place go once I left. The walls needed to be power-washed, the grass mowed, and the bushes trimmed. Buckles' old leash was hung up by the doorframe, becoming ragged.

I must have been zoned out, because the last thing I knew, Harry was calling my name.

"Peyton? You okay, babe?"  

I quickly snapped my head toward him, my mouth wide open. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry."

He kissed my cheek quickly before reaching for the doorbell. I held his hand tighter and heard the quiet "ding" of the bell ring inside the house. Heavy, clumsy footsteps slowly walked to the door. It was agonizing. I was scared, my hands were clammy, and my throat was dry. I heard the many locks on the door turn and switch, making me purse my lips together.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. I closed my eyes in fear until I heard the familiar chime of my friend's voice.

"Peyton?" Marie's voice asked.

I wanted to cry. I hadn't seen her in about three months, maybe more. She was standing there, staring at me through my old screen door with tears in her big brown eyes. I stood still, too afraid to move, too excited to talk. I just stood there, frozen, clinging to Harry's side with my mouth covered.

Harry cleared his throat and rested his free hand on my arm. "Uh, you aren't Peyton's mum, are you?"

She looked at him with an eyebrow raised, "Me? No, I'm her old friend."

She went back to looking at me. I swallowed multiple times, trying to make my throat less dry before talking. She opened the screen door and urged us inside. Harry pulled my shaking, nervous body inside and sat us on the couch. I sat down slowly, feeling the familiar fabric with my hand.

Why did I even come back? I'm so scared of this place, so scared of the memories here. The constant fighting and abuse, the cold nights when I was younger when my dad didn't make enough to keep the heat on. The broken pictures of my father and my long-forgotten birth mother, who I have very little memory of. She wasn't around much, but my dad loved her. And the first time I met my step-mom. That witch.

She was never motherly. She didn't try to help my dad when he was sad about my mother, just urging him to just take another drink and the pain will go away so she could get something out of it. She made my father a drunken brute. I can't remember a time where he was gentle and loving. All those memories where replaced by the constant yelling and fights and lashings.

Everything I had was ruined.

~

"It's all your fault! If you didn't call your mother when she was in that car, this wouldn't have happened you brat!"  he screamed before slamming his hand across my cheek.

~

Heavy breathing snapped me from my thoughts. Someone was slowly walking down the small hallway, dragging it's feet behind it. I stared hard at the dim hallway, making out a tall, masculine figure. His shirt hung loose around his torso, his flannel pants weren't tied around his waist. His thick brown-grey hair was in a buzz-cut. I looked at the man walk into the room and stopped, eyeing me with a confused face.

I wanted to scream and cower in fear as the monster of a man spoke.

"Peyton?" he seemed to growl in his low tone.

I squeaked and jumped up. "Y-yes sir."

His beastly hand rose and reached for my hair.

~

"Why are you being such a baby, you little brat?! Do I scare you?!" he yelled and grabbed my hair.

I screeched and held onto the roots of my hair, trying to help the pain. He threw my to the ground and rammed his foot into my rib cage. I groaned in agony and looked up at him as he did it again, and again, and again, and again...

Why is he the one crying? I thought.

I soon forgot about his emotions as a swift, hard kick into my stomach made me endure some of the worst pain I have ever felt. I screamed and he seemed to angrily walk away from the seen.

~

Ever so softly, a callused hand stroked my hair sweetly. I assumed it was sweet and careful Harry, so I smiled.

"You've never smiled for me..." a low, gruff voice said quietly.

I shot open my eyes and jumped back from my father's touch. His eyes were soft and caring, almost sorry looking. I rubbed my hands together nervously and looked at the floor.

"I never had a reason to." I mumbled.

~

"What did you say to me, young lady?"

"I'm sorry, daddy! Please don't hit me! Ple-"

~

He rubbed the back of his head, probably trying to find the right words. "Yeah.."

I nodded and played with my hands, glancing at Harry, who had moved to sit by Marie. I swallowed and slightly back away from my father. He mumbled.

"Why are you here anyway? Didn't you run off with that guy over here?"

I shrugged, "I don't know why I came back. And I did run off with him. He treats me much better."

~

"Don't you dare use that tone of voice with me! Where's my belt-"

~

He looked at me with those sad, sorry eyes again. His breathing got heavy again and he put his hand into his pocket and nodded to the kitchen. "Come in for coffee. I wanna catch up with you and your boyfriend here."