(A/N: I’m really sorry for the slow updates but here I made a triple update for those that actually read my stories. Thanks for being patient. I love you guys.)
Songs I listened to:
Use somebody- Kings Leon
Weightless- All time low
Superman- Five For Fighting
Heartache on the big screen- 5SOS
And
Oasis- Wonderwall
Elle’s P.O.V.
“Where the fuck have you been?” were Harry’s first words when I walked in our dorm room.
I wasn’t physically ready for his question.
Heck I’m not even physically ready to talk at all.
I’m broken hearted. I’m broken hearted because after all the good Niall has done for me I hadn’t done anything but ruin him and result him for alcohol.
I was never the heartbreaker, I was the heartbroken.
I don’t know what the hell is happening but I don’t know what else to do.
Harry’s pacing back and forth when I entered our room. He was upset and angry.
Actually he wasn’t just angry, he was absolutely inflamed.
“I.. was just out.” I consider lying to get me out of this position, so that I didn’t have to fight him because I’m not capable of doing so at the moment. I’m drenched from my own emotions and I’m not stable to do this.
I want to lie to him. But I know that won’t do any good.
Oh well, here I go.
“Where?” he hisses through gritted teeth, stepping towards me.
“I just—“ I can’t seem to bring myself to tell him. I don’t know why I’m so scared but then again everyone would probably be trembling if Harry’s blazing eyes were on them.
His green eyes were beautiful and at the same time horrifying. They have this intensity that you just can’t resist.
I see him examining me up and down but stops right at my thighs.
I feel myself redden, but instantly turn pale when he grabs my wrists with such pressure.
He held onto them so tight I could practically feel all the blood drain out from my hands.
Harry pulled me towards the bed and sat me down on my bed.
Harry knelt in front of me and brought his face to my stomach. I winced when he started sniffing, his hot breathe tickling me through the thin fabric of my shirt.
Before I could even ask what he was doing, he stood, let go of my wrists and looked down at me with knitted eyebrows.
“Did you fucking drink?” he asks me, still not over his intimidating tone.
“What? Of course not!”
Why would he even..
Oh.
When I look down, I see the drops of wine Niall had accidently spilled on me.
Or was it even an accident?
“Then tell me where the fuck you went!” He screams and begins to tug at his ringlets.
That’s it.
No more lying.
How could I expect him to be honest with me when I can’t even be honest with him?
