Mad World // Harry Styles

Chapter 7

I’m careful unlocking the door, minding the sleeping girl in my arms. She stirs when I begin to lay her on the bed. Her eyes shoot open and immediately find mine. I sigh upon seeing the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “Mel don’t.” I murmur, pulling her into my arms.

Her voice trembles along with her body. “Please let me. Please, I don’t want to be here anymore.” Her fists clench the fabric of my shirt.

“No. I can’t let you. I promised you. I promised that I’d be here. I promised I’d help.” I hold her to me fiercely. “I don’t break my promises.”

“If you want to help me,” her voice turns cold, “let me kill myself. That’s how you can help me.”

“No.” I whisper adamantly, my lips brushing her cheek.

“Yes.” Her demand is more of a plea as her grip on me tightens.

“No.” I pronounce slowly, burying my face in her neck. “Never.”

“I hate you.” She hisses.

My heart pangs for a moment and I swallow hard to collect myself. “I’ll just have to find a way to deal with that.”

She places a hard, watery stare on me before shoving herself away and rolling over.

I blow out a heavy breath, glancing at her turned figure. “Goodnight love.”

She glares at me over her shoulder. “Don’t call me pet names. I hate you, remember?”

“Sorry. Goodnight… jellybean.” I stare at the back of her head cheekily.

Her glare returns, more intense this time. “I said don’t call me pet names.”

My eyes are wide and innocent. “That doesn’t count because I just made it up. Maybe I was trying to call you something offensive.”

She narrows her eyes at me before huffing and turning back around. “Night.” She mumbles.

I smile to myself, but it slowly turns into a frown. I thought we were making progress, but Melrose mentioning suicide is a huge step backwards. I wonder if her change in direction has anything to do with that guy at the carnival. He was so vulgar. How could anyone say such awful things?

My gaze lands on Melrose and I watch her back as it rises and falls with her steady breathing. “You are a mystery Mel. What all has happened to you?” I murmur. I close my eyes and let out a sigh, attempting to fall asleep.

“Ugh.” I groan, waking from my fitful slumber. I roll onto my stomach. My arm flops beside me and I pat around, searching for Melrose.

“I’m over here.” Mel’s raw voice echoes from the window. I crack an eye open to see her sitting on the sill, a lit cigarette dangling from her fingers. She’s cracked the window so that the smoke drifts in lazy streams outside. “Are you going to join me or not?”

“I don’t smoke.” I manage to rasp, sitting up and rubbing a heavy hand across my face.

“Well then come talk to me. I think I owe you quite the explanation.” Her eyes are fixed on the streets below and her foot taps a steady rhythm against the hardwood floor.

I shuffle out of bed and chuckle. “You would pick three in the morning to have this talk.”

“Don’t ya know? Early morning is the best time for telling secrets.” She smirks around her cigarette, her tone dry.

My back pops as I settle across from her on the sill. I glance out the window and observe the empty streets, waiting for Melrose to talk.

After puffing her cigarette one last time, she begins to speak. “My dad started beating on my mom when I was eight. He came home one day and he was angry, so he hit her. I guess he liked it because he hasn’t stopped. My mom won’t leave him though. She loves him too much. That’s why she drinks I guess, to forget about how bad he treats her.” Her eyes meet mine. “When you love someone, even if they treat you like shit, you’ll stay.”

“Is that what happened with Carter?” I glance down at her feet and wiggle her toes distractedly, hesitant to ask any questions.

She swallows thickly and nods, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. “Yeah.” Her voice is shaky. “That’s what happened with Carter. He treated me like shit, and I still stayed.”

I frown and tuck her leg against my chest, kissing her kneecap. “If it makes you feel any better, he seems like a total moron.”

She smiles slightly, but doesn’t reply; instead she looks back out the window.

I stare at her profile intently, working up the courage to ask another question. “Melrose, when you say he treated you like shit… What did he…”

She whips her head around, not letting me finish. “Tell me about your tattoos.”

“Um.” My eyes are blown wide. I’m taken aback. That came out of nowhere.

“Please.” She tacks on to her previous demand meekly.

“Sure, sure. Where do you want me to start?” I straighten up, letting her get a better look at all of my tats.

“Mm, the butterfly.” Her fingers trail gently against the tattoo adorning the middle of my abdomen.

“I should’ve guessed.” I grin. “To be honest it doesn’t have much of an explanation other than the fact that I thought it looked nice. It seemed like a great idea at the time, but now it’s kind of silly. I mean it’s a butterfly for Christ’s sake.”

She rests her chin on her knees and smiles softly down at my stomach. “I like it. It’s not silly, it’s elegant.” Her fingers trail to my arm and trace the Hebrew ‘Gemma.’ “What about this one?”

“That’s my sister’s name in Hebrew. She’s my best friend so I thought it was appropriate to have a tattoo dedicated to her. I actually have quite a few that are about her.” I point out the iced gem and the cursive ‘g’ on my shoulder.

“That’s sweet.” Mel sighs. “It must be nice to be close to someone like that.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” I grin shyly. “I know I can always depend on her. I know she’ll always be there for me.”

Her smile brightens. “I’d been thinking about getting a tattoo, but I was never able to come up with something I wanted, until now.” Her eyes widen and I can tell she’s getting excited.

I laugh. “Well what are you going to get?”

She blushes and clears her throat. “Um, a crescent moon with a,” she hesitates, “with a ‘H’ in it. It’ll be a tribute tattoo, like the ones you have for your sister.”

“Who’s the tribute for?” I furrow my eyebrows. I don’t know her well enough to know any of her friends’ names; maybe it’s for one of them.

“It’s for you, dummy.” Her blush deepens.

“What?!” I splutter, choking on my own spit. I cough. “I mean, what? Why?”

She brings her face out of her knees and sighs. “Well the ‘H’ is obviously for ‘Harry’ and the moon is because you… you brightened up my darkness.”

“Mel as flattered as I am, and believe me I’m flattered, I don’t think you should do that. We’ve only known each other what, three days? That tattoo will be on you forever. That’s a big commitment for someone you hardly know.”

Her bright eyes dim. “You’re right. It was a stupid idea. I hate you anyways. I just remembered.” She heaves herself off the sill without another glance my way.

I clench my jaw. “That’s not fair. You know I didn’t mean anything by it. I would be honored if you got a tattoo about me, I just think you should wait until we’ve known each other longer.” I’m doing my best not to yell. How could she say such harsh things when I was just trying to be reasonable?

She stares at me with a blank expression before she nods once and burrows herself under the covers.

I stay glued to my spot, perplexed. That wasn’t nearly as dramatic as I expected it to be. She just agreed. No arguing, no tears, nothing.

“Are you coming to bed or not?” Her voice is muffled under the duvet.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” I whisper, padding to the bed. I slide in, maneuvering myself closer to Mel’s body heat.

She turns over to face me and wraps an arm around my torso. “I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you too.”