I Didn't Want To Be Saved (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter Nine

The taxi pulled over next to a block of flats. Great. Please god let there be a lift.

I looked down at the sleeping Harry and noticed that his arms had found their way around my waist. I shook off his hold on me and lifted one of his arms over my shoulder, supporting his weight. I paid the taxi driver, and opened the door, staggering under the weight of the tall man.

The taxi driver closed his door without a single word and drove away. Remember the days when people were actually helpful.

The night was freezing, and the only light came from the street lights letting off a dull orange glow. I looked at my watch. It was 1:00 in the morning.

Harrys head shifted and fell upon my shoulder. His curls tickled my cheek and his face was slightly lit up from the streetlights. His expression was peaceful, long curved eyelashes, and deep pink lips. He was beautiful. I had never really seen it before, perhaps because I had never really seen his face without a scowl.

I shook the thought away.

Thankfully there was a lift. I lay Harry on the floor of the lift, taking out the paper Liam had given me. Level 6. I pressed the button, and the lift zoomed upwards. As Harry gave out a light snore, I leaned down and hooked his arm around my neck, pulling him towards the flat that Liam had said was Harry's. I pulled out the key that had been in Harry's pocket and opened the door. I found the switch and turned on the lights.

The only word for Harry's flat was bare. It was almost unlived in. Like no one ever lived here but someone still came in every day to clean. It was open plan, with the living room joining straight into the kitchen and dining room. The walls were white, in the kitchen there was a black table, a cooker, fridge, the work surfaces were also black. There wasn't a single other colour from black and white. Even the laminate flooring was a shiny white colour. There was a single leather black sofa and a flatscreen TV. Apart from the simple blandness of the flat, everything was clearly very modern and expensive. You could almost call it classy, with the whole black and white colour scheme. There were no pictures, no photographs, no clutter. Nothing that gave away anything about the person living here.

I pulled the unconcious man towards the black door that must lead to the bedroom. I pushed open the door revealing one king sized bed (black duvet and pillows, of course) and a wardrobe. On the bedside table, a single book. The only sign in my eyes of someone living here.

I placed the sleeping boy on the edge of the bed, pulling my arms away from him. I curiously picked up the book that I saw and read the title. Lord of the Rings. Hm, maybe he does have taste.

Looking at him now, spread out on the bed, he looked so young, so vulnerable, a completely different person to the angry, hot-headed man that had pulled me out the water.

As I began to walk away, I felt someone grab my hand. The hand was cold and smooth. I turned to see bloodshot eyes, however still as piercing as they were when he wasn't totally drunk. He clutched my hand tighter.

"Sammy" he croaked. The vulnerability in his voice made me turn back round. He was gazing at me desperatly.

"Don't leave me" he whispered, and there was no chance I could loose the iron grip.

"I have to go, Harry" I whispered, kneeling down beside his bed. His face turned to look at me.

"Don't go. I need you here"

I was taken aback at these words. I knelt on the floor next to him. If I made any move to leave he would just grip my hand tighter. He lay there, not taking his green eyes off my face once. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but eventually my head fell onto our incased hands, and I was asleep.

*

Harry's POV

Pounding. Somewhere in my head. The pain was almost unbearable. I opened my eyes. What the fuck? I felt a weight on my arm and turned over to find a girl under the sheets with me. I couldn't see her face, her brown hair covering the most of her head. I slid out of bed, almost falling over from the pain in my head and walked over to the other side of the bed giving the girl a light shove.

"Wake up" I said, and then I saw her face. It was her.

"Fucking you again" I growled. Why was she here? In my flat? In my bed??

She stood up, rubbing her eyes. Woah she looked angry.

"Are you kidding me?" she shouted, her blue eyes blazing. My head throbbed at the volume of her voice. "I fucking carried you home after you treat me like shit, and puked on my shoes, and all I get is 'fucking you again'!?" she yelled.

I couldn't remember a thing from the previous night, just a messy blur of faces and words and, shit. I must have been mortal.

"Why did you help me?" I mumbled

"I didn't have much of a choice, Harry, however tempting it might have been to leave you on the side of the road after you blew chunks over my shoes, I couldn't just leave you"

I just stared at her. I didn't really know what to say to her. I must admit, I was a dick to her most of the time, yet she still stood by me when I needed help. She looked at me like she was expecting me to say something.

"I can buy you new shoes?" It wasn't meant to come out as a question but the look on her face caused uncertainty in my voice.

She scoffed lightly and shook her head, tucking her stray hair behind her ear. She was beautiful.

"Goodbye, Harry"

"Wait" I caught her arm and spun her round before she could go.

"Don't leave me"