Taken

Chapter 19

Saturday 15th January 2014

Harry's POV (A/N. WHOOP, change of POV!)

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"Nice one Haz, you know, for a couple of days there I seriously thought you liked her! Stupid, right?" Louis slaps me on the back and walks away, still laughing to himself at the idea of me liking Evelyn. I force a chuckle out too, but as soon as he leaves my line of sight, the smirk falls from my face and I lean heavily on door. The door that she is on the other side of.

How could I do this? I've never been so disgusted with myself, if I'm honest, and that is saying something because I can be a fucking dick when I want to be. I stare down at the knife in my hand, still covered in her blood, and have the sudden desire to run after Louis and plunge it straight through his heart. No. It's not his fault, this is mine. I'm the one who did this to her, the one who left her in a bloody mess on the floor on the other side of this door.

She didn't make a sound as I carved those dreadful words into her skin, she just stared at me, waiting for me to finish. And even when I had kicked her, repeatedly, she didn't try to fight back. Not that it would have done anything. I know that I won't be able to get that awful image of her lying on the floor like that out of my head for the rest of my life. Or her soft plea's with me, that had pierced through my heart like glass over and over, begging me to stop.

I wish I had. I could've stopped, and wrapped my arms softly around her fragile body. I could've rocked her gently and held her close to my body, where she would be safe. I can almost feel the soft shell of her ear by lips as I would have whispered my apologies, and told her the truth.

The truth. That's something I haven't said much of recently. But my lies have been necessary...breaking her heart was necessary. Of course I wasn't playing her along all that time, or using her purely for entertainment! I mean, I may be a dick, but I don't do that, and with Evelyn...well I really felt something. Whenever she's around me I just feel completely at home. It's like Harry Styles, member of One Direction, slips away and I can finally be me; someone I find it hard to be around even my closest of friends.

But hey I mean I'm still a guy, it's not all gross feelings and shit, little Harry is pretty fond of her too. God how I love touching her. Every time I'm near her I find it impossible to keep my hands of her god damn amazing body and I just have to touch her in any way possible. It's like I'm drawn to her by some weird invisible force that just won't let me walk away.

I have to get her out of here.

I'm shaken out of these thoughts at the sight of a worried looking Niall hurrying round the corner and into the corridor that I'm currently standing in. His eyes are on something behind him, and when he eventually turns to face the door to Evelyn's room, and me, we both gasp in surprise. Him I'm assuming because he wasn't expecting to see me standing there looking like a love sick puppy, and me because, well, the boy's a mess. I suppose he did get punished, after all, for helping Eve.

I stare, horror struck, at Niall's usually grinning face, which is now mostly covered in harsh purpley black bruises. Little of his face remains the colour I am so used to seeing, since even the parts which have been spared of bruises are a sickly grey colour. On top of all this, his left eye is swollen almost completely shut, and has a trickle of blood running down the face from the corner. His lips are also puffy and swollen, making it look like a botox surgery that's gone terribly wrong.

As he continues to walk gingerly towards me, I notice his face isn't the only area that has suffered. There is no longer a bright spring in his step, instead I notice how he limps every other step, and is forced to lean heavily on the wall to keep himself upright. Long, shallow breaths rattle out of his mouth, never seeming to bring enough oxygen into his weak body, and one of Niall's shaking hands clutches weakly at his chest, as if attempting to steady his breathing.