Your POV
Harry and I had gone out to a club. I knew he was drinking too much, but i couldn't really stop him. All i could do was watch.
He doesn't listen to me when he's drunk anyway. All the way home, he's kissing me. I let it slide, just because i know this happens a lot when he's wasted. When i get back to my apartment, i guide Harry to the bedroom so he can get changed and sleep off the hangover i know he'll have.
Harry has something else in mind. He makes another move on me, grabbing me roughly and kissing my neck.
"Okay, Harry, it's time to go to sleep," i say, trying to push him off of me.
He's too strong though, and he pushes me all the way back up against the wall. I struggle to get him away from me as he kisses me fiercely.
"Harry, stop," i say as loudly as i can. But he doesn't. He starts to pull my dress off.
"Harry!" He won't stop. I know he's drunk, but it's scary all the same. I finally don't know what else to do: i kick him as hard as i can in his stomach. He doubles over and stumbles away from me.
When he finally looks at me again, i can see that he's angry. This isn't my Haz. This is someone else entirely, and the reason why i hated it when Harry drank. He pushes me into the wall with great force.
I knew i shouldn't fight back, but it's just an instinct. Before i realised it, Harry slaps me across the face.
My cheek stings and my eyes well with tears as i look at him in horror. He may have been drunk, but there was no excuse for him hitting me.
I give him one final shove away from me before i grab my keys and a sweater.
"Babe, I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I swear I didn't mean to. Where are you going, (Y/N)?" I was too upset to respond. I hurry out of the apartment and don't look back.
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