bright - h.s

five

A/N: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS BEEN READING AND GIVING ME FEEDBACK! IT REALLY MEANS A LOT!

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Oliver p.o.v

Being creative is my weak spot. I can't turn simple colors into a work of art, unlike some people, so when I need to let my feelings free, I write. No, not a story-more like a poem or a song. I am sitting at a table alone, near the back of the class, but close enough to her as I can. After her revelation today in therapy, I didn't know what to say.

Fuck.

Why the fuck did I go up to her? Fucking hell Harry. I felt the need to tell her that everything was okay, and she will make it out, and that she could count on me, even though I pissed her off. Now I seem weak to her, I know it. She's going to find out sooner or later that I'm not weak.

I keep an eye on her. Her smile triggers something inside of me, and her pain too. I'm curious. I've never been so intrigued in someone; I usually just sleep with a hot babe I find, that would be obviously all over me since I'm Harry fucking Styles, then sleep with her and leave. Its low and I know it, but live while you can. Right?

A big black haired guy goes up to their table. I don't have a good feeling about him, but I stay still, not wanting to attract any attention to myself on my first day- I already noticed people looking at me. I don't blame them, but still. As soon as 'he' pounds on the table with his fist, I stand up, but no one notices. I see him talking, and everyone nodding. 

She is looking at him with wide eyes, but I can't seem to grasp her emotion. Those blue eyes just do something.

Fuck. 

He starts brushing her cheek and then her arm. My heart starts beating fast, and I don't know why. What the hell is he doing. She stands up, with a bewildered look on her face. What the fuck is happening . He grabs hold of her arm and starts to lead her outside the room.

What?

I follow closely behind. I hear her faint voice, "Please," it says and then I lose it. 

Its like my whole mind goes dark, and the only thing I see are the things I could be doing to this sick bastard. I grab the collar of his shirt and pound him against the wall. I hear a soft gasp coming from behind me; from her, but I choose to ignore it. Now that the adrenaline is pumping, there is nothing anyone can do to stop me. Hit, after hit, after hit. 

Blood starts gushing out of his nose, and his eyes are no longer fully open. 

I kick him a few times in the gut, and his legs fall under neath him. Flat on the ground, I have no mercy.

Kick, kick, kick.

"Stop, please!" Someone cries out. "Please!" I recognize the voice, and immediately turn around. Tears stain her cheeks, and my heart drops.