Bad Blood (h.s.)

Part Eighty-Six

Part Eighty-Six

A frown is etched on Harry's lips, my fingers buttoning his plaid shirt onto his body. My eyes look up at him and he sighs, nervous about the upcoming hour. My hair has been curled and a navy blue dress adorns my body. Harry's lips press into a thin line and my hands finish the last button, grabbing his waist in my hands.

"I'll be right there," I whisper, his head looking down and eyes closing. He kisses my forehead and I hold him in my arms, my gesture seemingly calm and triggering his arms to wrap around me.

"Nothing will hurt you," I whisper, his chest moving much more relaxed than earlier. "You're strong and you can do it."

He stays quiet and I move my head back, his eyes closed and face twisted into a worried expression. It pains me to think that one man can do this much damage to him. But his father caused some memories that are painful and now the only thing that calms him is his medication and me. My hands move up to cup his cheeks, holding him with my care. His eyes partially open and he looks at me, my eyes watching every move he makes in attempt to help him. He's safe and always will be with me. His lips press to mine in a gentle, unrushed kiss; the moments slow to show love.

"You'll be there...to hold my hand right?" he asks, his lips pursed and eyes watching my head nod.

"Good. Don't let it go," he states firmly. His lips press to mine again and he pulls me closer, my body melting into his arms.

~

"All rise for Judge Stone," we stand up, and once the judge sits, we all sit. Harry holds my hand tightly, holding my fingers as if it is saving his life. Michael walks into the courtroom shortly after and Harry closes his eyes, sucking in a breath. Michael's lawyer speaks and so does Harry's, but neither Harry or I listen. I have wrapped my right arm around his shoulders and I keep whispering soothing things in his ear, calming him down as his left hand holds mine.

"Mr. Styles, please come and state your side of the case," the judge says, Harry's eyes looking at the ground as he nods. My hand stays in his while we walk to the front of the courtroom, the judge curiously looking at me.

I lean towards the judge and tell him that I'm only up here in case Harry has a panic attack, since I know how to care for him. He allows and I stand behind Harry, tightly gripping Harry's hand as he begins the interrogation.

"As you see Judge Stone, Harry has taken a substantial beating from Michael," his lawyer pleads, continuing explaining.

"And Mr. Styles, do you have anything to say?" the judge asks, Harry's head nodding.

"When I was 9, he assaulted my mother and I. We were home alone and he knocked our door down. He sexually assaulted my mother, punching me and kicking both of us. He left and returned numerous times, hurting not only me, but my mum and my sister."

"You've been abused by him your whole life?" the judge asks, Harry nodding his head.

"He's a lying little shit!" Michael yells, Harry jolting and the judge hitting the gavel. Harry begins to breathe heavily and my arms pull him under the table, sitting him down and holding him. My lips press to his ear and I tell him I love him and that everything is going to be okay.

"Miss, is this a panic attack?" the judge asks, my head tilting up to look at the burly man.

Nodding my head, I swallow before I speak. "Harry suffers from post traumatic stress disorder. He gets panic attacks and this calms him down. They usually are triggered when he remembers his childhood or gets overly angry. Michael's presence has caused Harry to be uncomfortable and scared."