Pain: Her (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 90

"Harry, stop!" My legs are moving faster than my words but no matter how tight my grip around Harry's shirt is, I can't seem to pull him back.

Amused and not a least bit intimated by his actions, Alan remains seated on the desk, watching Harry attempt to touch him seeming to be hoping he actually goes.

Oliver, one of the football players who is seated in the front jumps from his seat fast enough to hold Harry back. He's just as big as him, but not as strong.

"Whoa, bro! Calm down!" Harry's chest bumps with Oliver's as they collide while Harry's fury consumes him in a way I'm far too, unfortunately, familiar with.

"Don't ever talk about my father!" Harry's accented voice laces with rasp and venom, pointing at him with a stern finger as everyone watches unaware of what to do or say.

This was bound to happen. Alan had it coming and talking about his father, especially Mia and scattering his personal life in front of everyone was uncalled for and blatantly disrespectful, not to mention unprofessional too. None of this is surprising, although his reaction is a bit scary, I can't blame him; no body can. Alan has been practically begging Harry to hit him and now he finally has his opportunity. But as his girlfriend, and as Alan's daughter, I can't let that happen; no matter how badly I want it to. It wouldn't be right for me to stand here allowing them to hit each other because both of them would suffer the consequences.

"I'm fucking sick of you!" He shouts. He's so angry I don't even think he knows who he is. I grab a fist full of the back of shirt to help pull him back but it's doing no justice. He's too strong.

Suddenly, Harry shoves Oliver by his chest and he falls to the ground, hitting it and sliding across the room from the power he put into it and Harry charges towards Alan, tearing himself from my grip.

I nearly fall to the floor from his abrupt detachment when I see a blonde boy in a red shirt charging in to the room, grabbing two fist full of Harry's shirt by his chest and shoving him back just as he lifts his arm to swing. A few other boys in class attempt to help him, but his strength didn't need any.

"Niall, get the fuck off of me!" He commands completely fed up and obviously impatient.

"C'mon man, relax." his voice is mellow; calm and almost comforting and surprisingly, it seems to be working, "Harry," he follows his movements as he steps side to side to try to get to Alan, blocking his way preventing him to, "you need to relax. You're scaring Alee." he states truthfully.

My chest is jumping from holding in my tears creating a strong pain and Niall sees that. His eyes are holding sympathy and sorrow while he tries his best to tame the beast.

Flashbacks blocks my vision as the day Harry got suspended clouds it. The way he attacked Liam and merciless hit him to the point where he broke his nose and gave him a concussion plays out like a movie. Although I dislike Alan at the moment, I can't stand to see the same happen to him. I can't let it happen to him. My mom would never forgive me and I know how strong Harry is. I know exactly what he's capable of and even though Alan is much more broad than him, Harry could snap him like a twig.

I stand and watch along with everyone else. The silent room is now filled with Harry's heavy breathing while Niall still keeps his grasp around him.

Harry slowly turns him head to face me and the look in his eyes nearly causes me to fall back. They're wide with rage and dilated with fury, his brows pulled together creating intense lines on his forehead and I study him. The small amount of time that I have, I study him. Rapidly and mentally trying to compare his rage to another time but I can't.

"Harry, you're bleeding." A girl points out with evident fear laced in her tone. Simultaneously, everyone looks at the red color seeping through his shirt and a sudden panic overtakes me.