Break Me-A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 34-Admittance

*Harry's POV*

I am a fucking idiot.

In the midst of my overreactive outburst of overwhelming discomfort, and anger, I had snapped at the one person whom I care most about. I was stupid as hell, and allowed my state of anxiety to speak for me, instead of thinking before I opened my mouth.

Now I've lost her.

I grumble multiple profanities to myself, as I pack my things, shoving them carelessly into my duffel bag, not caring how wrinkled the clothes will be once I take them out again. Once I'm done, I open the door of my guest room, peeking to the door adjacent to my own; Bella's room. Darkness spills through the cracks of the door, leaking out, and dripping onto the floorboards. She must have gone to bed.
As I head downstairs, I notice that the obnoxious voices of Bella's family are no longer heard, and I assume that they must have left, meaning that it's much later than I thought. I attempt to tip-toe down the stairs, trying to make my departure unknown to those remaining in the house, but my loud boots thud heavily against the hardwood, and I am unable to shadow my blundering steps.
I reach the bottom, and I notice a single light illuminating the kitchen. Shit. I didn't realize that someone was still awake. Unfortunately for me, the only way to exit through the front door, is to pass the kitchen, meaning whoever is in there will definitely see me. I quietly shuffle towards the exit, inching closer to the kitchen as I do so. Before I'm close enough to my destination, however, a voice stops me in my tracks.
"Collin? Is that you?" I try to ignore them, and walk hurriedly towards the door, but they reach me before I can do so. "Ah, Harry. I've been meaning to speak with you, c'mere." Bella's dad, Marcus, motions for me to join him in the kitchen.

Fuck.

Reluctantly, I follow him, awkwardly mimicking his movements, as he pulls out a chair, and sits down at the table. I plop my bags down on the floor, and his eyes follow me. I can't tell what he's thinking.
"You leaving?" He raises his brow, still eyeing my bags. I nod.
"Uh, yeah." I mumble.
"Why?"
"Bella doesn't want me here anymore." I answer honestly. Why the fuck am I telling him this? Marcus seems to be deep in thought, his eyes traveling over my face as though he's reading my mind. This awkward silence is so damn uncomfortable, and I want to leave. Just as I'm about to stand from my seated position, Marcus speaks.
"You know, Harry, my wife isn't that fond of you," He begins, and for some reason, I'm hurt by his statement. This is so unlike me, why do I care about their opinions of me? "But I'm glad that Bella found you. I'm glad that you found her, as well." He offers me a half-smile, and suddenly, I'm intrigued.
"What do you mean?" I ask, to which he sighs.
"I'm sure Bella told you about last summer."
"With Charlie?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, she did."
"Well," He folds his hand across the table, straightening his posture, as he does so. "After we put her in the hospital, she-"
"Wait, what?" I interrupt. "What hospital?"
"Charlie had beaten her," He winces, as if just speaking of the past alone causes him physical pain. "When we found her, she was unconscious. When she awoke, she was so petrified, so fragile, so weak." His eyes glaze over, and I pray that he doesn't start crying, because there's no way in hell I'm comforting him if he does.
The thought of my Bella having to endure such traumatic, and horrific experiences arises a swindling fire to crackle under the surface of my skin, igniting me with anger. I fucking hate Charlie. I should have killed him when I had the chance.
"After that," Marcus breaks me of my thoughts, his tone much more composed. "Bella was different, more closed off. It was only when we found...cuts on her arms that we knew she was in serious danger. We admitted her to a psychiatric hospital for a short-period of time. We were so worried about her, Harry. I was terrified that my little girl was in danger of herself." My heart pounds heavily in my chest. Psychiatric hospital? I'm at a loss for words, as I try to collect that spiraling thoughts pivoting throughout my crowded mind. This newfound information is so sudden, so unexpected, I'm not quite sure how to react. I don't have time to, however, because before I can fit a word in, Marcus continues.
"That is, until she met you." He admits, and I momentarily stop breathing. "You two only arrived a few hours ago, but I can see such a huge change about her, you've had an immense impact on her, Harry. I'm not sure if you even realize." Could that be true? Surely it isn't. I can't have been such a big help to Bella as he says, I'm just a kid.
Why does his confession have such a large affect on me? Why do my insides feel like mush, and my heart's speed increased; the heavy pounding in my chest seemingly amplified. I know I like Bella, I really do, more than anyone I've ever liked in my entire life, but why does this feel so different, so foreign, so right? Why does helping Bella to become stronger somehow help me, too? Maybe because I put her needs before my own. Maybe because to me, she's the sun, moon, and all of the stars. Maybe because when she smiles, it's like the entire world stops for a minute, and when she frowns, I feel a piece of myself break off,and drift away, never wanting to see such an expression again. Maybe because I know she's too good for me, but she sticks around anyway. Maybe because she's the light in my darkness, just like I am hers. Maybe I love her, and maybe, just maybe, she loves me too.
It takes me what feels like forever to process my new admittance to myself. I love Bella, I love her. I love every piece of her, every quirk, every flaw, every beautiful spark that ignites inside of me whenever she's near. I love the way my name rolls off of her tongue so effortlessly, so alluringly. I love the way her expressive eyes observe each and every detail of life, taking in her surroundings, always stopping to smell the roses. I love her loud laugh, and cute button nose. I love her lips, so pink, and plump. I love her body, so sexy without even trying. I love her when she's mad, sad, happy, or anything in between. I love Bella. I love her so much, and I can't believe it's taken me all this time to realize it. I've loved her since we shared our first kiss, and I'll love her until our very last.

I can only hoped that I haven't permanently fucked things up.

"Harry?" Bella's father snaps me of my thinking, his dark eyes studying me with prominent worry.
"Sorry." I clear my throat, running my hands through my messy hair. "I was kinda lost in thought. About her, about Bella."
"Hm." Marcus grunts in response.
"I love her." I stupidly blurt out, but once I do, I feel a weight being lifted from my shoulders. My confession feels like it's been waiting to be said my entire life. I want to shout it to the world. I love her, I love Bella.
"Is that so?" Marcus raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Have you told her this?"
"No sir." I shake my head. "But if I haven't messed things up for good between us, I plan on it." I can't hide my grin, I feel somewhat euphoric, as though I've just solved a mystery, or discovered a missing puzzle piece.
"Oh, I doubt you've messed things up. Bella is a very forgiving, and understanding girl." Marcus returns a half-smile to me.
"I know that." I say. "I just said some stupid shit that I didn't mean, and I hurt her." I don't know why I just told him that, maybe he's just an easy guy to talk to, but he's still her father.
"Better not have hurt her too badly." Marcus jokes, but I can sense the undertone of sincerity. I nod in compliance, then sigh. "Alright, I'm gonna go to bed." He stands from his chair, the legs scraping across the kitchen tiles loudly. Just as he's about to exit the room, he turns around once more to face me.
"And, Harry," He calls. "Don't leave just yet. Running away from your problems will get you no where." And with that, he bids me goodnight, and climbs the stairs.

~*~

The light of a new day streams in through the window, slightly illuminating the bedroom. I squint my eyes in an attempt to shield myself from the glare of the sun hitting the glass pain. From her position next to me, Bella shifts in her sleep, eyebrows furrowing together as her pink lips slightly part. I wonder what she's dreaming about.
Last night, after I had decided to stay, I boldly climbed into bed with Bella instead of utilizing my designated guest room. She hadn't noticed, remaining in a deep sleep until morning, yet to discover my presence. A mild fear of how she'll react looms in my stomach; will she be mad? Sad? Happy?
Before I have time to overanalyze, Bella's big blue eyes flutter open, her dark, thick lashes batting together in an effortlessly beautiful manner. Her brows furrow once our eyes meet, and an indecipherable expression takes over her features.

I take a deep breath.

"Hi." I offer with an awkward half-smile. She takes a few moments to respond, almost as if my presence alone is throwing her off, as if she's wondering if she's imagining me being here or not.

"Hi," She answers cautiously, subtly creating space between our bodies, as she slides towards the opposite end of the mattress. I wait for her to say something else, but she doesn't.
"Are you still mad?" I press, sitting up from my lying position, then gazing down at her. She sighs.
"I was never mad." She sits up, turning away from me to allow her feet to dangle over the edge of the bed. "I was hurt."
"I'm sorry, baby." I coax, gravitating towards her, and running my hands over her bare arms. "I really didn't mean what I said, I just-"
"I know." She snaps, cutting me off, and untangling herself from my grip. She removes herself from the bed, standing over me with her arms crossed over her chest. "I'm going to take a shower." She mumbles, exiting the rooms swiftly, not allowing me to fit another word in. I sit in silence, the only sound heard is that of my unsteady breaths, as I try to keep my growing anger at bay. Not anger at Bella, well, not completely, more so anger at myself, and my stupidity.
I have a feeling a simple apology won't fix this problem, for this isn't just about my accidental outburst, it's something much bigger, much darker. I can only hope that we'll be able to make it through this together.

Right now, it feels as though Bella and I are venturing through a dark tunnel without flashlights. She seems to have taken a few steps ahead, getting lost in the bleak nothingness, leaving me behind. I know I should just turn back, before I'm in too deep, but the truth is: I'm not finding my way out without her by my side.


*Bella's POV*

Just as I'm about to close the door of the bathroom to take a shower, Harry's boot steps between the wooden frame and the wall, disabling me from doing so. His preventive blockage is removed, and he swings the door open, blue meeting green as he stares down at me.
"What are you doing?" I cross my arms over my chest, trying to remain neutral yet display my irritation.
"We need to talk."
"About what, Harry? There's nothing to talk about!" I throw my hands in the air dramatically, then allowing them to fall limp at my sides.
"Yes there is, Bella." I can tell that he's trying to remain calm for my sake, to not allow his prominent anger to implode, and pour down on us both.
"No there isn't." I say, much calmer than before. "Just go, okay? You have no reason to stay anymore." I'm far too exhausted to fight with him, far too exhausted with everything to fight for anything anymore.
"No, I'm not leaving, if it's about what I said last night, then I'm so-"
"No, Harry! Jesus, it's not about last night, okay? I'm just tired of all of this! I'm done, done fighting with you, and everyone else. I can't handle this anymore, and if you knew what was good for you, then you would just leave me alone!" I'm shouting, yelling, bursting from the inside out, all emotions and bottled-up words spilling out of me like the blood that drips from my veins. My face is red, and my hands are balled up into tight fists at my sides.
"No, I don't care if you're tired! Do you know what I'm tired of? Running away! I'm tired of leaving when it gets too hard, tired of regretting! I don't care if you fucking hate me, I'm not leaving your side! I know you think that everyone hates you, and the world is against you, but you're wrong, because I'm here with you every second, of everyday. I never judge you, never question you. I do everything in my power to make you happy, to make you smile. I know most people would think that I'm wasting my time, but I don't care. Do you know why? Because I love you! I love you more than I've ever loved anyone on this Earth. You're my breath, my voice, you hold the key to my soul, and even though you drive me fucking crazy, I still love you! You don't love yourself, so I'll love you enough for the both of us until you learn to, okay? But I'm not fucking leaving you, Bella. I'm not running away, not this time." Hot tears are streaming down my cheeks by the time he's finished his rant; this beautiful, scarred, broken boy stands before me, offering me the key to his heart, for he's just poured it into his words. He's managed to say everything I've ever wanted him to, and more. He's all I could ask for, he's perfect, and he's mine.
"Harry," I croak, my voice cracking as tears continuously fall from my blue eyes. Though the strings holding me together may be weak and straining, he's managed to tighten them, strengthening me in a way I never though possible. "I love you." I tell him, wiping my tear-stained cheeks furiously. Harry exhales a sharp breath, seemingly relieved by my retaliation of his admittance.
"Bella, I love you so fucking much." He breathes, and I manage a half-smile. Harry closes the space between us, engulfing me in a warm embrace. I melt into him, entangling my arms in his, and resting my head on his broad chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
We stay like this for what feels like an eternity, wrapped up in each other, comfortably silent, peacefully content. I want nothing more than to pause my life, to stay in this moment forever, pressed against the boy whom, right now, means everything to me.