Baby Doll (Harry Styles)

Chapter 51 - Sick

Just got back from a vacation so I wrote this really quick! Sorry if it's short and if you spot any grammatical errors, please ignore them I'll get to the editing soon. And I'll try to have a new chapter up sooner than usual :)

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"What's wrong?" I asked, and received no answer. Confused by his silence I looked up to see if he was asleep but his eyes were wide and full of thought, the green veiled by the darkness of the room. My head was pressed to Harry's chest, his shirt parted just enough for me to feel his skin. I'd planted a small kiss just below his collarbone as an apology for throwing a fit a while ago. My mood had been swinging back and forth these past few days. One moment I'd experience great heights of anger and anxiety, the next I'd be singing myself to sleep. And now my anger had dissolved.

But I still kept in mind that Harry was wrong on his part for fake-dating Kaylee behind my back. He should've been honest about it and maybe I would've understood. I was well aware that Harry had been lagging in his studies in college, business wasn't quite his expertise. And it turned out that his decision to get through college on his own was only momentary. Harry needed help, so he sought for Kaylee's.

"Harry." I called in a hushed tone, twirling the chain of his necklace around my finger. I whispered it again and again until I felt his hand grasp mine. His touch was warm, contrasting with the rough feel of his fingertips.

"Those men back there." Harry finally began to speak. "The way they were looking at you..." He trailed off.

I didn't have the confidence to raise my head back at the place so I hadn't noticed how they were looking at me, but Harry had and from the way his body tensed, I could tell that it wasn't very nice. "I'm sorry." This was big coming from someone who rarely apologises for anything, and so I was certain that Harry really was distressed and worked up over all of this. I didn't want him to be. "I should've been there to protect you." His voice was hoarse. "I let this happen to you."


"I was stressed just now, forget what I said. Please stop blaming yourself." I told him.

"My dad... he's doing everything to keep you from me. He knows about us. He's got Richard wrapped around his finger. I don't think that dickhead was supposed to let me have you, but I guess the only thing that can make him go against my dad's orders is well, money."

"It's funny how your dad was the one who was forcing us to be intimate in the first place."

Harry was quiet after that. Or maybe I just couldn't hear him because the strange substance pumping through my system was pulling me back to unconsciousness. "He didn't expect me to fall for you, neither did I." I heard him say, but his voice was so far away. I clutched the edges of his shirt, a little too forcefully because I didn't want to lose him. He was here. He was here with me, I told myself.

"It was my birthday." I managed to choke out in spite of the sickness I felt. I wanted Harry to talk to me, but not about all the bad things. They can be dealt with later. I longed for a simple conversation.

"Birthday? When?" He asked, his voice echoing in my ears as my eyelids dropped. I didn't know how long it's been since my birthday. A day? A week? I felt Harry's fingers weave through my hair as I struggled to stay with him.

"I'm eighteen now." I said in a whisper, my throat dry and raw. Then I was gone, once again. 

Suddenly I was floating, hovering above myself. I was alone on the bed. I'd lost Harry, and I felt a dangerous presence. His father was watching me from the doorway. I attempted to reach out my  arms to wake myself up but it proved to be futile. Fear washed over me as Damian shut the door and strode toward the bed with an object in his hand. I tried to scream, but failed. I was a useless little thing, and I was being forced to watch a nightmare take place before me.