Indie (Harry Styles Fan Fiction) *ON HOLD*

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“I think it’s time we talk.”

Hearing these words from his mouth caused an irregular heartbeat to pump through my veins, a bead of sweat to be formed on the fold of my top lip and palms that caused me to subconsciously wipe them off on my jeans.

“Talk about what?” I nervously ask him after a few moments.

He takes a deep breath and answers with a short, but terrifying, statement.

“My past.”

“Alright, then tell me now.” I try to say in a confident voice to cover up my anxiety.

I don’t think it helped.

He is about to talk but is cut short by a knock on the door.

He frustratedly sighs and mutters for me to ‘stay here’ as he walks out to see who is at the door.

Me, being the nosy person I am, poke my head out of his bedroom door so I have a direct line of sight to the front door.

When he opens the door he is met with a rather large, bald headed man who has tattoos adorning his arms, neck and even on his face which give him a terrifying appearance as he towers over Harry’s 6’5” figure.

They talk in hushed voices in which I hear a few vulgar words from Harry as his voice get a bit higher with anger. The other man would tell him to shut up and they would go back to their hushed voices.

When it sounds like their conversation is coming to an end and the man is about to leave, he makes eye contact with me and I try my best not to look away from his seemingly corrupt look. He smiles and winks at me in a way I would never want one to do and he walks away.

Harry closes the door rather forcefully and I jump back into the room before he can spot my presence. I stare at the deathly words on the wall before I hear him in the hallway.

“What did he say?” I cautiously ask when he is in speaking range.

“Nothing.” He mutters as he brushes past me to go into the bathroom which I follow him into.

“It obviously wasn’t nothing, I heard you almost yelling at him.” I confront in an annoyed tone because I know he isn’t telling me something.

He ignores me and begins to scrub at the words on the wall with a sponge and some water he got from the bathroom so furiously he might take of the paint with it.

I give up on trying to get an answer from him and so I grab another sponge and stand next to him working on the wall.

Harry leans over and presses a kiss to my temple before explaining his anger.

“I think he is the one who broke in and wrote these damn words on the wall,” he pauses and frustratedly scans the wall, “and I also believe that he is an alliance of my fathers.” he finishes.

His father?

“What do you mean ‘an alliance’ with your father?” I question him.

He stops scrubbing the wall and sets it down on the floor which I also do and follow him out into the dining room.

We sit at the chairs that weren’t damaged and he finally starts to explain everything to me.

“It all started when I was little, maybe about 10 years old; I heard muffled noises coming from our basement late at night and so, being the nosey one I am, I walked downstairs slowly to hear my mom crying out hysterically and begging ‘please’ to someone who I could not yet see. As I cautiously took more steps until I came in view of my mother on her knees and my father, with a gun to her head. She was begging him ‘not to do it’ and that she was his wife, he scoffed and slapped her across the face. I held my breath so my father would not hear me as I watched the scene unravel before me,” he stopped and gulped as I prepared myself for what was to come next, “before I could even blink, he pulled the trigger sending a piercing sound through my ears and my mom’s blood splattered onto the wall behind where she had once kneeled but now laid on the floor in a pool of her own blood. I screamed in terror which shocked my father as he turned around evilly smiled at me, “sorry, did I wake you?” he said in a tone that sent shivers down my spine. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could, but not before my father had already caught up to me and knocked me out.”