Promising Memoirs | soft h.s.

Chapter 12.

"Who the hell gave you authority to answer my phone?" He barked making drop the phone terrified from his tone of voice. 

Harry forcefully from my hand causing me to take a few steps back. He was not that Harry that I got to know earlier that we had casual conversations about things. He was not the one who placed his hand ever so gently over my cheek to prevent me from crying earlier. This dark personality of his wasn't something I was used to. Knowing who he was in such a small period of time, I did not expect to enter into a fight so soon.

Entering into this moment, my mind is frozen from everything around me. I hear a loud strong voice, seeming that is similar to yelling, but the words are muffled from around my whole body. For minutes, another shock travels through my brain causing me to not understand what is happening - until silence. 

My mind has returned to whatever normal state it was in before, even though highly confused about why Harry was so angry. I look down and see his phone on the ground, the screen slightly cracked, making my body ache at the sight.

I've never been in a situation where someone has raised their tone of voice at me like this in a long time. My father previously had his moments when he would come home drunk, but when my mother told him to straighten out. Threats were made that she would run and take me with her - he became sober ever since. 

"Harry, I'm so sorry. It's just a habit of mine. I tend to answer ringing phones if the owner's not around. I hate when calls go to voice mail. I do it when I'm with my friends and vice versa, I'm sorry." I spoke out, speaking everything in one breath. 

There was no stir or movement from him. He is just standing, frozen, in front of me. I don't know if he is still angry or at least in a content state right now. I was still looking down from everything, ashamed of what I did. 

Seconds. Minutes. Time. It all passes by, not sure of how long we have been in this position - all until Harry gave a deep breath and I looked up at him.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I've been doing really well with keeping myself together lately, but I think of hearing that my father called, it just pulled the trigger. He said as he neared me and wrapped his arm carefully around me. My body winced at his touch, it was so calming, yet somehow gave a caring feeling to it.  

He placed my un-wounded hand in his and he led us to the sofa, walking past the partially broken mobile, sitting down next to each other. Quiet took over for a few seconds before he spoke out again.

"My father and I don't exactly have the best relationship, or any relationship per-say. It's been like that for about two years now." He stood up and walked near the entertainment center. Opening a side door, a picture frame that was faced down was now in his hands as he walked back to the couch.  

"When I was a kid and until my mid-teens, he was the best father anyone could have imagined to have. So caring, protective, free to let his son do whatever he pleased. Little did he know doing that would backfire."

"Did you start drinking, doing drugs, or something along that?" I asked, partially interrupting. Curiosity overcome my thoughts. 

"To my dad, it was worse. I decided against joining his company when I was seventeen. So I rebelled everything for a while. That included school and yeah, I had lots of opportunities to drink and do drugs, but I did not want to hit rock bottom at that point. I still maintained good character even though I was also dealing with my mum's passing during the same time. It was also a little hard, since my mum and I took off and lived in Marylebone for a while, so I was real close with my mum." He took a deep breath and showed me what was in his hand. It was a frame of a photo with him, his mum, and his dad. They all looked like one perfect family. There was also a girl in the background, she had long brunette hair, and seemed young.