hs: one shots

4. Problems

He fights almost ever night and wins all of them. She doesn't know what he's doing. She know it's dangerous, but doesn't know what he does outside of the house and a small circle of friends.

She hates it. She hates how she never sees him and when he's asked about it, she does't say much or anything at all. 

When he gets home late again that night for the 5th time in a week, she gets brave enough to really confront him about it. 

"Where were you? I tried calling."

He's heard that for the 5th time this week, but can he blame her? If it was the other way around, he knows he would have done much worse.

"It doesn't matter Y/N."

"Doesn't matter? It doesn't matter that I'm worried about you?" She asks.

He grabs a vodka bottle out of the fridge, also for the 5th time this week. She takes the bottle from his weak grasp and holds it away from him. "And now you're drinking?"

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, now give it back."

She crosses her arms. "No."

His head snaps to hers. "What the fuck did you just say?"

She gulps. "No. I said no."

He gets closer to her. His face in her face. "Then you know where the door is."

She gasps. "So you're kicking me out? Because I'm trying to help you? Har-"

"I don't fucking care Y/N! Go away!" Her heart breaks when he goes under the cabinet this time and grabs an unopened bottle of liquor.

"No baby. You're going to hurt yourself if you don't stop." She tries to get that out of his grip also. And in the middle of the struggle, she lost grip of the bottle that was already in her hold. 

She gasps as it hits the floor, glass shards and the gross smelling liquid going everywhere. She closes her eyes tightly as she doesn't to she Harry's reaction. She doesn't have to though. She can feel the anger radiating off of his body. 

She didn't really know what to do at this point. "You fucking clumsy bitch!" He screeches.  "That cost a fortune!"

"Harry I'm so sorry! I'll buy you another one!"

"Get out!" He roars as he points to the door. 

"But Harry, I don't have anywhere to go and it's freezing outside." She shivers just at the possibility of her walking outside when it's negative 20 degrees outside. 

"Not my fucking problem! I don't want to see you anymore! I hate you!" He gets to the floor and tries to think of a way he can clean it up. 

Her face crumbles in pain as the tears come down her cheeks. She takes a blanket from the end of the couch, but a voice interrupts her. "That's my blanket."

She quickly sits the blanket back down on the couch. "I'm sorry."

He doesn't say anything. 

She walks of the door and the cold rushes all of the way to her veins. She hates the cold. Where will she stay?

Harry's truck. 

She knows he always had a bad habit of keeping the doors unlocked, but tonight she was happy of it. She climbs in the back seat of the little vehicle and tries to spread out her limbs. 

When she stars t become colder, she places her body in the fetal position, in hopes of getting warmer. 

That night, the sound of teeth chattering is what put her to sleep.