H.S AU.
Clover's Family have weird beliefs and a deep rooted culture that has weaved its traditions into this family are now being laid upon her. She had seen it happen all around, but never did she expect her parents would do it to her too. But th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Note: Harry's new hair Bomb ass word count: 5969 word bitchhhhh
Harry led me into his room and shut the door firmly before turning around and nodding towards his comforting looking bed. I blushed catching his silent hint of spending the night here. I nodded shyly as I scurried over to the edge and sat down nervously. He switched on the lamp and dimmed the lights down so it was darker but not completely pitch black, I smiled softly at the thoughtful action.
I stiffened as he came and sat down beside me, the warm glow of the lamp casting shadows and contours across his chiseled abdomen. We sat there silently for a few minutes, me gathering my thoughts and trying to banish the flashes of my nightmare away whilst Harry seemed to be sat quietly for my benefit.
"I wish I could forget you know," I murmured into the still air making Harry turn his intense gaze to the side of my head. I glanced up at him as we held eye contact for a few seconds, the green of his eyes and the sheer intensity robbed me of my breath as my heart skipped a beat. I looked away, not being able to deal with his full entire focus on the words coming out of my mouth. "Forget that Richard isn't my real dad, forget what my real dad did to me." I felt Harry tense beside me at the mention of my father, his hands resting on his knees tightened into fists unintentionally. I sighed heavily.
"What did you see in your nightmare?" Harry asked. His voice gruff and sounding as if it came through gritted teeth. I bit my lip softly contemplating, I had never told the specifics to anyone, not even Casey. Harry and Casey knew that my father hurt me, but they didn't know any details, or any specific times.
Maybe telling someone would help?
I lifted my legs up and shuffled backwards until I was presses against the headboard, curling my legs beneath me and hugging my elephant to my chest I got ready to relay the first time my father raised his hand to hurt me with Harrys full focus on my face. He looked menacing, the dim lighting making his tattoos look darker and making every muscle stand out. The angry expression on his face didn't help either.
"I used to see this all time when I was a little younger, every night actually, but. . .I haven't seen it in a while now. God knows where it popped up from today," I chuckled nervously fiddling with Mr. Elephants ears. "I-It's a memory of. . the very first time my father hurt me." I glanced up to see Harrys reaction and as expected, his jaw was slowly clenching tighter and tighter, his muscles tensing and looking frightening.
"I was five, and I'd had a nightmare, can't remember what it was about, but I was scared so I went to my parents room and knocked. I was hoping my mother would come out, but. . . she didn't. My father answered and," I blew out a breath, "He was not happy. He dragged me back to my room and shouted at me." I peeped up at Harry through my eyelashes, his blazing green eyes focused solely on me. "And then backhanded me. I-it was so hard that he knocked a tooth out." I laughed humorlessly, a thick tear rolling down my cheek at the memory. It left a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach and made goosebumps of dread to spring up across my arms.
