You Have Me

Ch. 7

"Harry, no! What's wrong with you! Get.....fuck!....stop hitting him!"

This is is what my life has been like for the last year and a half. Almost every single time I agree to go out with him it's the same thing. A guy can't get within an inch close to me unless they want their faces bashed back into their skulls.

"Harry! Let him go!"

This curly haired man was made to look like an angel but had the ability to kill a man with his bare fist. And just like all the other times (and yes, I know it hasn't been that many. Maybe two or three) my pleas were being ignored. They'd go in through one ear and come out the other.

I don't understand how 'Harry styles' THE Harry styles got away with assaulting a man and going on with his day like nothing happened. How did his conscious allow him to do that, when mine wouldn't stop screaming at me, when I'd yell at Harry.

And like all the other times here come Louis and Zayn to try and pry the curly haired beast (I always feel really bad when I compare Harry to a beast) away from his bloody victim. Louis grabs onto Harry's mid-section tugging him away and Zayn bends down using his hand and arm to help the poor man up. He slowly helps the injured man stand and then helps him lean most of his body weight onto the wall since Harry managed to knock down the circled table. Niall and Liam return to the scene but they're not alone. They've managed to find Paul. Their head of security who's now shaking his head and making people leave, but not before taking their phones and deleting most of the evidence. Between louis, Liam, and Niall they've been able to calm down the angry Harry who's rubbing his face with his bloody hands, after a few minuets I can see Zayn make his way slowly, leaving the stranger alone and bruised.

Fuck guy code. Fuck it, straight to hell.

And by now I feel my body returning and I'm quick to pull out a packet of small tissues (I don't even remember putting them there, but I'm so fucking happy I did) before making my way over to the leaning man. I pull out a single tissue and approach him slowly frowning at the spilling blood that's managed to stain his rather nice blue and white stripped button down. And oh, oh Jesus, please don't let me faint, because it's a lot of blood and his face looks purple and oh shit. It's gross. His face is showing his fear for his safety and I'm not surprised by the way he's looking at me as I make my way towards him. When I'm close enough I let a sigh escape between my lips and I slowly bring the small tissue underneath his nose trying to clean as much of the crimson liquid off.

Ewe.

"I'm so sorry" I tell him honestly. He didn't even do anything wrong, he merely complemented my dress and kept me company, if anything harry should be thanking him for keeping all the creeps a safe distance from me.

"I....I'm......sorry...I'm ...so sorry"

I know my stuttering apology isn't going to heal his bloody wounds or clean up his shirt. But it's all I can offer. After the tissue is too stained, I let it fall to the floor, because no way, am I going to put it in my pocket. I begin pulling out a new one when a strong familiar arm wraps around my waist pulling me back into a hard chest.

Harry.

And no, fuck him right now. Fuck him and his Inhumane strength, fuck his anger issues, and fuck his stupid jealous actions. Fucking fuck him.

"Stop touching him."

No, fuck him.

He hisses and keeps dragging me away. And even though his face is bloody and bruised I can still see the worried look he is sending my way. I should have at least learned his name. If I was a fucking considerate person I would have fucking remembered to get the poor man's name. Harry's leading us to some destination still unknown to me, but luckily we pass the boys and I manage to hand the packet of tissues to Niall and motion towards the man with my head. He takes a look at Harry and his blue eyes take an understanding tone and he nods his head before taking the small packet and walking over.

When we finally stop I see he's brought me to a small secluded corner. Away from everyone. Good, because I'm about to maim him.

I turn to face him, my anger is bubbling up and all I want to do is slap him until his cheek takes a permanent red tone. His face is full of emotions. Anger, sadness, regret.

"Why!?...why did you do that!....why do you always do that?!"

He knows I'm mad (He better know I'm mad) His hand is still holding my waist and even if I wanted to run he'd be able to catch me before I'd make it to the door. I've never been a good athlete.

"He wanted to take you away from me. I wasn't going to let that happen" he responds and his gaze falls to the floor. How do I convince him, that just because someone compliments me, it doesn't mean they want me? Or maybe I should just act mad, because it makes me feel like he doesn't fucking trust me. Like he thinks I can't fucking handle myself. And, no.

That's not okay.

"Harry! No one is ever going to take me from you! Ever! But keep this up, and I fucking promise yo-".

"Don't ," he begins softly removing one hand from my waist and places it on my cheek rubbing his thumb along the bone "Don't finish, what you're about to say. You're my responsibility. I'm not going to let some twatt come and ruin you if I can protect you. I'm always going to protect you."

Not everyone's main goal is to ruin me. Not everyone's a bad person.

This isn't fair. Harry doesn't play fair, because every time my brown eyes meet his green ones I know I'll cave. I've never heard of such a strong commitment between people. I've never felt such a strong bond with another human being. But I don't want this happening every time I go out with him. I understand the want to protect the people you care about, but Harry confuses that with being possessive. And it always gets him into trouble.

"You do this every time, Every time, you think I'm being threatened, or that some random creep is trying to get at me. How am I ever supposed to be with you, or go with you to these kind of things, when I know this is how it's all going to end." I sigh and he knows it's true by the way he's looking down and giving me a small nod. "I can't keep doing this, Harry. I can't keep worrying that you're going to kill a guy for just talking to me."

He looks up, ashamed and fearful. And no, oh god, no, Harry really, shouldn't ever look like that. Ever.

"You can't leave me. I need you, and you-you need me." he says and I know he means it. I do need him. It's frighting and intense how much I really do need him, But this can't keep happening. I look down unable to stand looking at those green eyes that were a darker shade a few moments before.

"I don't know anymore."

*********************************************************

Oh god it's hot, and Harry's arm isn't helping me. I'm panting and oh,I really wish I could crank up the AC or at least open a window. I've either just had a dream, or a memory and if it was a memory, then. Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Who the fuck is sleeping next to me? What the fuck are we?

There has to be a reason why every time I'm near Harry Sty-

H.S.

My tattoo. Oh.