Harry's Perspective
I watch her sleep, her chest rises and falls evenly. She's been asleep for a while now, but I'm worried that if I look away she'll spring up and try to attack me or some shit.
She looks so small on my couch, covered in my mother's afghan. Her tiny face is the only thing visible under the thick blanket, which swallows her whole body.
How could anyone have raised a hand to something so tiny and innocent?
I don't know any of the circumstances of her relationship, but the circumstances aren't what matters. Being abusive to the girl who came to the bar at whatever hour in the morning to come take your drunk ass home is wrong. Being abusive to any girl, to anyone is fucking wrong.
However, me slipping out to head back to the bar to beat the life out of that prick, feels oh so right. One punch was enough to send my nerves on a frenzy. I've been inching for a good fight for weeks, and I've secretly hoped that guy could've taken more than just a punch to knock him stone cold. Damn my fantastic boxing skills.
As much as I'd love to watch the jerkoff beg me to stop hitting him, I can't leave Del- er Delilah. I can't leave Delilah. I wouldn't want her to wake up confused again. And she deserves to have someone care enough for her to make sure she doesn't wake up alone.
I should probably take her to the hospital. A concussion test is fairly quick, but from personal experience I know she has one. But do I feel like sitting in those plastic waiting room chairs for hours as she files a domestic violence report? Nah. And knowing her she'll make up some phony story on the way there so she doesn't have to rat out her boyfriend. That piece of shit-
My nails begin to dig into my palms and I stop myself before I start. A couple of deep breaths and I'm fine, and actually drowsy. But I can't sleep.
I grab one of my mini Five Hour Energies from my stash in the cabinet and throw it down.
Cozy in my chair once again, I look back at Del. Delilah. Damnit. She's in the same position, eyelashes fluttering slowly; she's dreaming. I can't help but wonder what she's dreaming about. I also can't help hoping it's not a nightmare, and that it's a sweet little dream to settle her head, some gumdrops and lollipops type shit.
Who the fuck am I?
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A/N: Short chapter to get a look at Harry's perspective! What do you think? Should I write more Harry POV chapters or switch back to Delilah? 😬
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bouncer ☓ h.s.
Fanfiction❝He loves the job. It's extra money on the side and keeps him on his feet. It's also an excuse to follow you around, missy. He loves doing that.❞ I notice his fists clench, knuckles turning white. "Haz, don't." "Don't what?" "You don't want...
