His Territory | Harry Styles

Truth Hurts.

Dissimulator:(verb)

(used with object), dissimulated, dissimulating.

1. to disguise or conceal under a false appearance; dissemble: to dissimulate one's true feelings about a rival.

(used without object), dissimulated, dissimulating.

2. to conceal one's true motives, thoughts, etc., by some, pretense; speak or act hypocritically.

-

Harry

Pain.

That's what I felt when my eyes flung open. That's what I felt when trying to move a single muscle in my body. But it's what I heard, when the sound of soft sobbing echoed through the room. 

Coming to my sensors, I managed to lift my aching, and throbbing body off the bed. Without even looking at my surroundings I forced my feet to the floor and although, every step sent waves of pain throughout my body; mostly my ribs. I followed the sound of sobbing.

The sobs became louder as I neared a door, I assumed was a bathroom. 

My right hand gripped the cold silver-metal knob.

Turning the handle I opened it quickly before walking in, the sobs were louder now. My eyes followed the direction of the sound. When they fell on her I felt my heart sink.

Joe was sitting near the bathtub with her back against it, her knees bent and rested against her bare chest, and her arms hugging them. 

She's completely naked.

But it didn't seem to bother me. What bothered me was that she's crying, I hope it's not because of me.

Fuck.

Everything that had previously happened between us flashed through my mind, I felt guilty, anger pulsed through my veins. 

How could I be so stupid, and senseless? I already supposedly took her virginity, yet, here I was treating her like a piece of garbage. 

My feet carried me right in front of her, a small grunt left my lips when I lowered my sore body down to her level.

"Joe?" No answer, I seemed to make her cry harder. "Joe?" I tried again, only thing time I place one hand under her chin and pryed it away from her knees. "Look at me."

"No," Came her answer. "I can't do that." With her eyes closed and mouth slightly parted she turned her head away from me.

I watched as a tear slid down her right cheek.

She's so fucking beautiful.

Stretching out my hand, I used my index finger and removed the droplet of liquid from her red cheek. "Please don't cry,"

Finally, she turned her head and looked directly at me. Her blue eyes roaming my face, "It's my fault," Her bottom lip trembles as she released more tears. "I'm sorry Mr Styles, it's my fault y-you got hu-"

"No, don't say that," My hand grapped the side of her face while I used my thumb to remove the falling tears. "It wasn't your fault, I don't blame you."

She briefly closed her eyes before opening them. "He hurt you," a whimper left her throat. "My father hurt you Harry, he could've killed yo-"

"Hey," I leaned across her smaller frame, with my legs now on either side of her body. I used my legs to straighten out her knees, although I know she's completely bare beneath me; I don't look. "You're dad has wanted to beat me for sometime, this was just an excuse for him to do so."