Give Me Hope (h.s)

11

"What are you doing? You can't be down here," I say, her eyes trained on my bloodied face.

"Wh-What happened?" she asks, my jaw clenching. I'm fighting myself horribly right now and I glance around the hall. My hand grabs her arm and I pull her into my room, locking the door behind us.

"All that happened was I got into a fight. It's nothing serious," I tell her, but her eyes watch the blood drip down the side of my face.

"Harry, you don't have a non-blood covered part to your face right now," she says, and I shrug.

"You need to get back up to your room," I say, but she puts her hand on my stomach. Just the stupid touch has my head spinning.

"Let me help you clean up," she says, my lips releasing a sigh. She is making this incredibly hard for me.

"Arabella, you really shouldn't be here," I say, her blue eyes almost begging me to let her stay here to help.

"Please," she whispers, and I lead her into the kitchen.

"What do you need?" I ask, her eyes looking back up at my face.

"A washcloth, and a few bandages," she says, and I reach into the cabinet, retrieving both.

I sit up on my counter and she wets the washcloth, my hands removing my shirt due to the blood. She steps between my legs and washes my face, my hand holding her waist to stabilize her.

"Harry," she says, my eyes opening to look at her.

"Did you know my father was going to lock me back here?" she asks, my head shaking.

"I knew he was going to try to stop Bone Thrashers. I didn't realize he was going to lock you away again," I tell her, her lips pursing.

"I just...I don't want him to blame you," she says, and I blink heavily when I feel blood dripping down my eyelid. She moves the cloth back up and I look back down at her.

"He does. I'm the only one making him believe I'm causing them to find us. He only believes what he wants," I say, trying not to swear in front of her.

"I know you wouldn't hurt me," she says, bringing her other hand to my face. My mind processes her words and I smile, her lips curving as well. She's got that right. All things aside, I would never intentionally hurt her or put her in harm.

She reaches and grabs the bandage and opens it, pressing it to my forehead. Her hands move to my cheeks after and I look down at her, my heart stopping. This girl is treating me so gently, something I've never had. I don't know how to treat a girl like her.

"I really like you," she whispers, my hands moving to fold on the small of her back. I lock her between my legs and I part my lips when our foreheads meet, my eyes closing.

"You are the most dangerous part of my life, Arabella," I tell her, her soft fingers brushing my cheeks.

I feel her lips brush mine and I tug her close, pressing my lips on hers. She moves back and I slide off the counter, tugging her hips into mine.

My hands lift her up and she wraps her legs around my waist, her hands moving into my hair. She curls onto my body perfectly and I want her so fucking bad, but I can't. The last thing I can ever do is be with Arabella.

As I make my way into my room, I take a seat on my couch and have her sit on my lap. She pulls away and I take a deep breath, looking up at her.

"I can't do this," I whisper, her hands moving to my cheeks again. "Arabella, I-I can't be with you."

She sighs and I sit up, keeping her on my lap but in my focus.

"I-I thought," she starts, but I cut her off.

"Look, I want to, but I can't. Your father..." I trail, her eyes closing. It looks like she understands but I have no idea.

"I hate this," she sighs, leaning her head into my neck. I hug her, my arms wrapped tightly around her.

"H-He is the reason my life sucks. I don't know why he even cares about me. He hated my mother, threw her away after I was born. I-I just don't understand," she starts to cry, my hand running up and down her back.

"You deserve so much more. But I can't...fuck," I groan, her head lifting. The tears seem to be slowing but she just looks at me. My heart is pounding against my chest and she keeps her arm wrapped around my neck as she brings the other up, moving her fingers to my cheek.

"What are you doing to me?" I pant, losing all my control around her.

"Just be with me," she quietly begs, placing her lips on mine.

For the night, I put all thoughts into the back of my head and just go for it. I lift her up and lay her on my bed, straddling her body beneath mine. I run my hands down her sides, her hands winding in to my hair as I move my lips down into her neck.

"Harry," she whispers, my forehead lifting to press to hers. "I-I can't..."

"I know, Bella," I whisper, pressing my lips to hers. "I know."

She moves her hands back to my neck as I kiss her, my hands feeling her. Her body is a wonderland, every inch a new discovery. She's curvy, and I love finally being able to touch those curves.

"Fuck," I groan, her hips something that have driven me insane since we met. She's literally everything I want in a girl, and yet I should not be going for her. I can't stop.

I lift her up and she climbs into my lap, looking at my lips as she begins to retract her shirt. The action alone is hot, my senses filled with all things Arabella.

"You called me Bella," she whispers, holding my shoulders. I look away from her chest to look up at her eyes, my teeth releasing my bottom lip.

"It means beautiful in Italian," I tell her, her cheeks flushed. I smile at her and lay her back down, fanning her hair beneath her head.

"Are you complimenting me?" she blushes, my arms propping me up to look down at her.

"You're so beautiful," I tell her, my view of her absolutely perfect. She turns red and her hands comes up to over her face. In the action, her breasts move up and I glance down, seeing her stomach and her curves in her jeans. There is something about seeing the little bit of skin appearing over the waistband that just proves to me she's real. No, she's not toned, but hell, she's healthy. And that's all I want

She smiles up at me and I move my arms down, moving my hands into her hair. Her hands settle on my biceps and I kiss her, keeping her shielded from the room.

"You're really pretty," she whispers, making me laugh. The term 'pretty' has never even remotely been shared with me before, but from her it makes me happy. It's something about her. It makes the moment perfect.

"No, Bella, that's you," I retaliate lightly, but she shakes her head. She moves her hands to my cheeks and her thumbs brush my dimples, making me smile.

"You're perfectly sculpted. Lord," she gasps, making me admire her even more. Instead of talking, I just lean down to kiss her. We both know that the odds are so far against us, but in this moment, neither of us cares.

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