The Pool Boy

Blonde & Deaf. (11th Chapter)

…. A Week Later…

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Melody's POV:

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Since that day with Harry’s conversation, I killed any contact or friendly gesture attempt. I tried to push myself to form hate for him, but once I remember how he dove in the pool in complete worry, or when he mentioned I’m beautiful; the process becomes difficult.

Even though I have not talked to him what so ever, he still kept watching my every movement. On Tuesday, I parked my car on the main road, and not in our parking lot. As I left my Mercedes, I caught him staring at me. Once I did, he shook his head and went into the guesthouse. He frustrates me and his character is so complex, even I, the psychiatrist major, can’t figure him out.

Today’s plans revolve around my hair. I just got bored of my bangs, and I felt like straightening it. Once I was done with my hair in the salon, I notice a strange truck parked outside of the gate, preventing me from parking my car inside.

I press my hand on the horn, and it keeps beeping until a familiar blonde gets out with Harry. Niall, was it? Yeah, he walks out and smiles apologetically, as I groan impatiently. He slides his keys to the truck and I back away, for him to reverse.

Harry, surprisingly, walks over to my car and opens my door in a snapping force. “Get out.” He spits, and I furrow my eyebrows in total confusion. “Blonde and deaf… interesting.” My eyes wide at his impolite words, and he shocks me with the next action.

He leans down and unbuckles my seatbelt, then grabs my arm and forcefully stands me outside. I don’t dare to say a word, since he looks pissed off to the extreme.

He closes the door, and drives my car inside to park it where it belongs. I’m amazed, but still so disturbed from his behavior with me. I clonk my Rossi heels, and I tap my foot anxiously(http://www.polyvore.com/emerald_stone/set?id=112711578&lid=3328693), while he gets out of my Mercedes.

He opens my hand, and places my key in it, then closes it. His hand covering mine looks like a tortured love painting by the finest artist. “A thank you will do.” He smirks and laughs in negative humor. 

“(I spit back at him) Thank you for what, Harry? Thank you for treating me like I work under your hand? Thank you for blasting these harsh remarks at me? Thank you for confusing me with your mixed up emotions and violent behaviour ” I breathe after what seems like a year, and he doesn’t dare to speak back. “(My eyes tear, but I manage to use a high pitch of vocals) I gave you so many options to choose, figure which reason you like the most and tell me. Or, you know what? Don’t because this is nonsense…”

Before any painful tear slips, I begin to walk away; not until he twists me to face him quickly. I almost tripped, but he held me in his arms to prevent that. I ball my fists and try to yank away from his hold, but he keeps staring at me in what seems like… soft eyes?

“(He sounds broken, but still he finds words in his stutter) I-is this how you feel about me…?”I don’t reply, I just let my tear slip and my face squeezes as the emotions drop. “Mel, please answer me… (I open my eyes, and he looks scared/worried) Do I do these things to you all the time…” My sobbing quiets down, and my watery eyes focus on his.

“(I stutter) Ha-harry, let me go… I beg you, please.” He doesn’t budge, why am I surprised. Speaking of surprise, he replies in a raspy voice: “What if I don’t want to let go of you…? Can I keep you…?” The crack produced by his last spoken words, make the entire world spin around me. His grips loosen suddenly, and he pushes himself away from me, leaving me stand like a numb statue from the utter shocking moment.