Bad Blood (h.s.)

Part Twenty

EDIT ON SIDE!

Part Twenty

My eyes close, feeling Harry softly caress my body in his warm hands. His lips brush over my bare stomach, kissing over each purple spot left by the dangerous kidnapper a few hours previous to the current events.

My breath hitches in my throat when his touch moves to my chest. His soft hands place on each breast and his lips move to gently kiss the bruised skin. His thumbs compassionately brush over each nipple and he kisses each one, placing his fingers around them and carefully massaging the skin. He lets go of me and I open my eyes, his looking at my tender body in complete care.

His fingers grab hold of the old black tee Zayn had given me to wear and I sit up. My arms move up and Harry places the shirt over my body. Once through, I look up at him and he smiles.

"Beautiful," he whispers, pulling me onto his lap and grabbing my cheeks, placing a kiss to my lips. I smile and he places me down on the bed, moving to hover over me. I hold him close to me, my trembling fingers gripping his broad shoulders.

My body is sent into a state of unexplainable feelings; no feeling can compare to this. But my thoughts are soon brought out of my care, hearing a familiar ringtone buzzing through the room. Harry groans and slides out of the bed, grabbing the ringing phone in his pant pocket.

"Hello?"

The raspiness of his voice was so hot; each syllable heavy and beautiful. I look over at him and his face seems to drop when the person says something, his gaze darting towards me but then quickly looking away.

"No, that's fucking stupid," he growls, anger ridden in his body as his back muscles tighten and his opposite hand clenches.

"You won't lay a hand on her Keaton."

I feel my stomach drop and I sit up, wrapping my arms around my legs, watching Harry get angrier by the second.

"Over my fucking dead body," he states, hanging up the phone and smashing his fist into the wall. I jolt and watch his angry body stroll around the room, his hands grabbing his hair and fisting it, pulling at the brown locks. I move to stand up, letting my feet hit the bare ground and walking to the over-tired, furiously frustrated Harry.

"Harry..."

"Beth, no, don't come near me. I don't want to hurt you."

His chest heaves up and down at a pace I have never seen before. He is angry as ever and I don't want to see him hurt. He looks hurt, frustrated and hurt.

"Harry, please."

I walk towards him and he tries to walk backwards but I grab his hand, the clammy hand balling into a fist.

"Beth, no."

I let go of his hands and quickly grab his cheeks. I place my forehead on his sweaty one, trying to let him know I'm here. My hands remain on his hot cheeks, trying to calm him down. I watch him carefully, his chest moving quickly and his skin glistening in the moonlight.

"Shh, it's okay."

I run a hand through his hair, his body remaining frozen, arms hanging at his sides and chest panting. I kiss his cheek and lean his head into my neck, letting him rest on my shoulder. I feel his arms hesitantly wrap around my waist and I hold him, rubbing his bare back and running my fingers continuously through his curls.

His arms tighten around me, pressing my body to his in no chance of escape. He grabs the ends of my hair in his hands and holds it tightly, his fist pressing to the small of my back.