Hiii. My name is Everleigh Anne Styles, and I am Harry Styles' daughter. I have three -well.. four; but I'll get to that later..- Uncles and an older brother named Oliver. It gets pretty crazy in this house. Wanna join?
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I suck at descriptions, bu...
Before I start this chapter, shoutout to @lashton-bxtch for the incredible idea! Thank you lots:)
Also, last chapter I put "What in tarnation" and I was on Instagram and found a meme for it and omg ahahaha
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Anywho, on with the chapter lol:)
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When Dad is angry, you truly do not want to cross him. He has so much authority and it is so scary.
But what's even worse, is when he is already mad at you. And you've already crossed him. That is just scary and awful.
Plus, the look he was giving me right made me want to run to Australia. Even if I get eaten by a shark. I would run on the water to Australia if I could because this look.. geez..
"Graffiti.." Dad said, lowly. I jumped out of my skin when his voice raised and he boomed, "You did fucking graffiti?!"
He's never cussed towards me before. Never. Tears welled up in my eyes and I sniffed a bit.
"I.. yes.. I'm sorry! I didn't-"
"You didn't what? You didn't 'mean to'?!" He asked, using his fingers as quotation marks. "It was Noah wasn't it? He convinced you, didn't he?!"
"Dad, it was a mutual agreement!" I said, defending Noah.
"Everleigh, you promised me that if I bought you spray paint you would never do graffiti. You lied straight to me face," he stated. Tears dropped down my eyes and I sighed.
"I didn't lie! I just.. I don't know what got into me.." I admitted. He chuckled.
"I don't either. This isn't my daughter," he sneered. "I don't know who this.. delinquent is."
"Dad.." I said, nearly sobbing. He knows I hate being called that, yet that's all he calls me when I'm in trouble.
"I raised a proper young lady. Someone who respected everything," Dad started. "And suddenly, you're this law breaking delinquent brat who I didn't raise."
The thing about Dad is that he has his way with words. And not in the charming way. When we're in trouble, yes he'll yell, but he'll break you with his words and hurt you. He doesn't understand that it hurts.
"No, I'm not!" I yelled. Fire grew in his eyes and he glared at me, but I didn't stop. "You-you act like I killed somebody, Dad! All I did was paint!"
"Yeah. You might as well have killed somebody because I don't know who you are as it is," he started. I wiped my tears and shook my head. "It's probably not even that good. I mean.. anything a delinquent does isn't worth a glance."
