CHAPTER -40
Good song to listen to: Make Me (Cry) - Noah Cyrus
Claire's point of view
"Claire, wake up," I hear his voice beside me.
I slowly open my eyes, to see his piercing blue eyes, looking intently into mine.
"Niall," I breathe, inhaling deeply before stretching out on the bed.
"Morning," I say with a smile, moving closer to him. He frowns, backing away and sits on the edge of the bed.
"What happened to you last night?" His stern voice makes my heart beat faster. I look around the room, sitting up against the headboard.
"Last night? What are you talking about?" I ask, clearly confused.
"You came here completely groggy, in the middle of the night, unable to speak!" he turns around to face me, totally frantic.
"We hung out with Liam last night Niall, he left like around 10 PM, and then we... called it a night..." I slow down, completely forgetting what happened after Liam left.
"No, that was two days ago Claire! You left because you thought Harry might be in danger, then I didn't hear from you until last night," he raises his voice, his wide eyes frightening me. What is he talking about?
"I tried taking you to the hospital, but you refused..." He explains fourthly, as my mind scatters. What is he talking about?
When I really think about it, that day seems very distant. Could what he's saying be true? He believes I left here around 10PM to go to Harry's house, because I thought he was in danger. Then the day after I show up at his doorstep drunk in the middle of the night? It... just doesn't add up in my mind.
"You have been sleeping for 15 hours," he says, pointing at the digital clock resting on the nightstand.
"You really don't remember?" he asks, frustrated. I shake my head but then I remember something. I remember a text from Louis. I look around me, searching for my phone. I find it the jeans on the floor, and I see it through the screen.
*Harry's manager just called. They wanted me to ask you if you have heard from him, no one else has for the last 48 hours*
I remember getting it. But I don't remember leaving...
"What happened to Harry?" I whisper sharply, panicked at the thought that something might have happened to him.
"He got drunk, don't worry he's okay," he shrugs, clearly a little annoyed.
"Oh my god," he gasps, staring down on my hips. He pulls the duvet off of me.
"What the fuck... is that?" he trails his finger over the blue marks. They're bruises.
"I don't... know," I exhale, realizing he must be telling the truth. I am missing an entire day of events.
"Did he do this to you?!" he raises his voice, getting off the bed.
"Did Harry give you those?!" he shouts, leaning over the bed up close to me. I see the veins sticking out of his throat, and the intense red in his face. He is furious. I lay my palm on top of the marks, and I soon find a whole set of bruises up to my throat.
I try desperately to remember what happened last night, but to no avail. Is it possible that Harry gave me these bruises?
"I fucking knew it, I knew he was abusive!" Niall pulls at his hair as he walks across the room, kicking the bedroom door.
YOU ARE READING
WRONG // (Harry Styles)
Fanfiction❝This is wrong Harry,❞ I pant as he rips off my top, exposing my bra. I soon give into him as his arms lock on my waist, lifting me onto the kitchen counter. ❝Be quiet baby, we dont want to wake Louis up.❞ // Absolutely no translations or resposts...