That's when they took him from me. A Harry Styles Fan Fiction.

Forty Four - Fighting To Get You Out Of My Head.

HARRY’S POV.

She lay there, her eyes closed, sleeping. I watched as her eyes would flicker underneath their lids slightly restless. She hadn’t moved, just lay perfectly by my side on the – what now seemed, rather small couch. Her head lay on my chest and I would watch as her head would rise and fall slightly as my chest would when I’d take a breath. Her fingers were interlocked with mine, still with a tight firm grip. Her legs were carelessly tangled with mine and her right hand palmed my chest. The only sound that broke the empty silence of our cosy London flat was the steady yet soft snores coming from her perfectly parted lips.

It all made perfect sense, and at the same time, nothing made sense at all. She was always thoughtful. Generally she kept her feelings and opinions to herself, observing that outbursts of emotion or careless words were often regretted. There are moments when I wish I could turn back the clock, start over. Just to take all the sadness away but I have a feeling that if I did, all the happiness would be gone as well.

She started to stir in her sleep, soft whimpering sounds escaping her perfectly parted pale pink lips. All I could wonder is what she was dreaming about. Beads of sweat started to form on her delicate forehead and I quickly but gently thumbed at the beads of water, wiping them off tenderly. Then all of a sudden, without any warning at all she shot up, she sat there her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to force the air into her lungs. She quickly wiped the beads off of her face hastily, wiping the back of her hand on her simple white tee shirt. Then suddenly she was crying, she didn’t mean to, but there it was, boiling out of her. I quickly although almost hesitantly pulled her down onto my chest, wrapping a firm arm around her small waist, rubbing comforting patterns into the small of her back. She shuddered under my touch and her body bounced up and down as the cries ripped out of her chest.

“Shh.” I cooed, whispering softly and gently into her ear, I felt as the hair on her bare arms rose and watched as the ones on the back of her neck did too.

It took a few minutes for Tayla to calm down. After those few minutes her breathing seemed to steady and the tears began to stop.

“Hey.” I cooed, tucking a stray piece of hair that had fallen over her blue eyes, behind her ear, cupping her cheek with my big hand.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered, still cupping her cheek. She shuddered at looked down at the couch, fiddling with the hem of her white tee shirt.

I brought my thumb and forefinger to the bottom of her chin, gently lifting her head to look up at me. She ignored my eyes for a few seconds but I lifted her chin a bit more, forcing her to make eye contact with me. Her bright blues met my pale greens and we were stuck in a tantalising stare. I noticed the tears starting to well up in her eyes again and one spilled, I gently thumbed at the clear liquid, wiping it away with the bad of my thumb.

“What did you dream about?” I questioned softly, not breaking the thick contact of our eyes.

She took in a huge breath and let it out a few short seconds later, her breaths coming out in big shuddering heaps. Another tear rolled off her cheek as her eyes resided to focus on the couch again as she continued to play with the hem of her tee shirt.

“N-Niall.” She shuddered, avoiding my eye contact. That’s when I realised that I hadn’t seen Niall around much at all; actually for the few days I’ve been here he hasn’t been here at all.

“What about him, love?” I questioned, keeping my voice soft and gentle.

“I keep having nightmares.” She whispered, prying her eyes off the bottom hem of her tee shirt and locking eye contact with mine. The tears fell silently down her now red cheeks and trailed down the slight crevices in her face, falling off at the end of her delicate chin, leaving streaks of water across her plump cheeks.