Selected || H.S

21.

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**MATURE CONTENT**

"Mady, are you alright? Who's that guy?" Harry asks as his hands softly rubs my back. I haven't stopped crying since we've entered his car and worried him even more. I just want to get to the hotel and sleep and never see his face again. I still can't believe he's here. Why? Why does he have to torment me like this? Wasn't it enough for him to break my heart in front of the whole world on the first day? No, he had to appear in England and completely destroy the growing shell I had around me.

The car finally stops and I hear Harry cuss. I try to bury my face in his shirt more, if it's even possible, but he cups my cheeks with his hands and makes me look up at his panicked eyes. "Mady, listen, there's even more paps outside. I want you to take a deep breath and calm down, I don't want them to see you like this." I nod, my chin trembling as I let out a shaky sigh.

I glance at the window and my stomach twists as I see the larger group of paparazzo surrounding our car. With Harry's arms around me, I breathe in and out deeply, containing my sobs at the same time. I watch myself in the rear view window and I almost burst in tears at my sight. My makeup is smudged and I basically look like a panda mixed with a raccoon who got cake on his face. Harry hands me a box of tissues and I try my best to wipe away the mascara under my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I give him a small nod, biting my bottom lip to hide my trembling chin. Harry tells his driver to open the door for us and he steps out first, extending his arm for me to take his hand. Hiding my face with my purse, I run next to him on the crowded sidewalk and up the stairs of the hotel. His bodyguards managed to make us a small path and they push away the noisy men trying to snap pictures of my disheveled self and Harry's. We don't stop running until we reach the elevators and I finally let my hand down, letting it fall loosely at my side. Harry's grip around my hand loosens and he wraps his strong arms around my shoulders, bringing me back to his warm chest and shirt soaked with my tears. "It's going to be alright, I'm here." He kisses the top of my head and I tighten my grip around his waist.

We hear a 'ding' and the elevator stops. His bodyguards stand in the hallway as we get our digits scanned and finally walk in our suite. Still in his arms, he leads me over to the couch where we both collapse on the soft cushions. He stays silent as I keep letting sobs escape my lips against my will, finally letting myself cry my heart out until there's not an ounce of water in my trembling body. He hasn't left my side and I don't know how I will ever thank him enough for his support. I don't deserve him. 

"Do you want some water?" He speaks softly and I croak an answer, my voice sore from too much crying. The air becomes suddenly cold as he leaves me for a few minutes to get me a drink and I shiver. I mumble a thank you when he comes back, wrapping my fingers around the cold glass and letting the cool water refresh my throat. He places the glass on the table when I finish and watches me as I gradually calm my sobs. When only small whimpers escape my lips, I dare to look up at him, seeing his eyes full of worry.

"Thank you." I whisper, seeing a small smile on his lips at my words. 

"Do you. . .Do you want to talk about it?" He dares to ask and I shake my head.

"Not now. I just. . .I want to take a shower please." He nods, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he helps me stand up. He's being so careful with me and what he makes me feel blends with the pain I already feel and this lump of mixed emotions growing in my stomach is just too much to handle and I don't know when it'll spill. I don't want to know.

Harry 

I feel my heart tighten at her sight. She's broken, completely broken and I have a slight guess of what the reason might be. That guy at the restaurant must've been her ex-boyfriend, but why on earth is he here? She told me he wasn't wealthy, how did he manage to fly all the way to England? Was he stalking her? A billion questions run in my head as I carefully walk her over to the bathroom and make her sit on the toilet. I bend down to take her heels off, looking up at her tear stained face at the same time. Even like this she manages to look absolutely beautiful and knowing that she feels so much pain at this exact moment only breaks my heart even more. I wish I could help, I wish she could let me do something. I feel completely defeated to see her vulnerable like this and not being able to help her recover.