Bad Blood (h.s.)

Part Eighty-Nine

Part Eighty-Nine

"Harry," I whisper, feeling cold. I reach around me but I can't find his hand. My eyes open and I don't recognize the room I'm in. I raise my body up and feel cold, realizing I'm not wearing anything to cover myself. I'm bare with the exception of flimsy lace underwear on my hips. They don't look familiar; why are they on my body?

"Harry?" I ask, grabbing the shirt on the floor and putting it on my body. My ears hear groans and angered yells, my feet hitting the cold wood floor.

"What did I tell you?! You are shit!" I hear a voice boom, my ears hearing the yelling but I can't find where it's coming from. I turn a corner and see Harry on his knees, his bare back gleaming and his jeans on his legs.

"Harry!" I yell, his head turning and his expression worried.

"Beth, leave! Please," he chokes, pain etched in his voice. The man above Harry hits his head, Harry groaning and my feet barely able to move.

"Now she can watch you die," the deep voice booms, the man's head turning and looking at me. The same green eyes as Harry, yet they are so cold and hold no life.

It's his father.

A black gun is put to Harry's head, but it soon retreats, placing the muzzle on his tattoo. The trigger is pulled right on my name, Harry's body falling and my scream rings in the hall.

I jolt up, my hands clutching the blankets tightly. My breathing is in pants and my hair is damp, the nightmare pulsing through my thoughts. Two arms wrap around me and I shake, moving my body to straddle his lap and let him hold me. Harry kisses the top of my head and my hands grab his shirt, fisting the material as I calm down. That was too vivid, too real and I can't let it happen.

"Tell me what happened," he whispers, his lips warming the skin near my ear. I shake my head, not wanting him to know what happened. It will scare him and I don't want him to freak out.

"You need to tell me so you can calm down," he pleads, my fingers tightening.

"N-No."

He sighs and tries to lay me down but I keep my arms around him and cling onto him. My head buries into his chest and he stays sitting, holding my body in his arms. My eyes close and I breathe him, his chest moving at a steady pace.

"It was your father," I whisper, trying not to make him mad. He doesn't seem to react, just slowly rocking me back and forth at a soothing pace.

"He won't get you. He'll fucking die before he lays a hand on you," he says, surprisingly relaxed. My hands move from his back to his chest, my fingers tracing his tattoos over his Henley and then grabbing his shoulders. Pushing him down, his head places on the pillows and his curls flow around his head. My arms move and I set my forearms against the bed, my head moving down to his neck and kissing it gently. He moves his hands to cup my cheeks and he pulls my head up, meeting my lips with his.

His lips move unrushed with mine, his hands cradling my face and holding me gently. Carefully, I bring my hands to his sides, holding him to me and continuing the kiss. I hesitantly pull away, not wanting to break away. His eyes open and I look down, captivated by his beautiful eyes and tan skin.

Not even a second passes by before my lips are attached to his and my body is flipped, his body hovering over mine. His hands rip the buttons on my, or should I say his, plaid shirt open and trails his lips down my chest.

"All mine," he whispers My eyes close and I feel his mouth splay open-mouth kisses to my chest, my bra remaining on my body and my hands are taken in his. He trails his lips down my stomach and I feel his tongue licks my naval, the tickling sensation washing through my body and I begin laughing. He smiles and moves back up, kissing me again and letting go of my hands. His fingers button the shirt back up and then his arms wrap around my body, my hands brushing his hair out of his eyes.