Sister Styles

{23} Did You Call Me Lima?

He closed the space between us as tears dripped from my eyes, his breathing was smooth now, and his face was only a few inches from mine. The smell of liqour was strong. I wanted to vomit.

"Oh, Lillian, I'm so sorry," he said, his words small. He brought a finger up to my sore, wet cheek, stroking it smoothly. The stinging from my cheek was still oh-so burning. "I love you, babe. You know that right?"

He just hit me, again. What for? I don't even know at this point. We've been yelling and arguing for hours about a whole bunch of stuff. At one point, it was about him lying to me about going out with his mates when I actually caught him talking to Amelia Paddington. At another point, it was about my mental health problems and that if I have a problem with myself that I should fix it. As much as I wanted to leave him, I couldn't. I love him too much, because at the end of the day, he is this sweet guy. We do have sentimental conversations, and he does take me out to dinner. He does love me.

"Do you love me?" He asked, taking his finger away, maneuvering to stand a couple feet in front of me. He picked up the whiskey bottle, once again, and slurped back a shot.

I wanted to scream. And as much as I wanted to scream, I also wanted to hug him tight. I'm so sick of these games. I'm so sick of these fights. I'm so sick of blaming this on myself. But I love him and I can't leave him.

It's Harry's fault. If he was here, I would have someone to talk to about this stuff, someone to give me advice and help me through these problems. If he was here, I would be sleeping instead of fighting with him. We would be at my mother's house. But no. Instead, he had to leave and go off with his stupid music career and send me away to live with my dad.

This guy calls me names, and he pushes me, but deep down I know he would never truly hurt me. We play fight a lot, but that's all it ever is. So he hit me? So what? I've been hit lots of times as a kid from my siblings and mum. But he would never intentionally hurt me. Right?

At least, that's what Payton always told me. God, I miss that kid. It's been weeks since I last spoke with him. He left for a vacation with his Dad and step-mom. And here I am, waiting for him to barrel through the door and save me. At least, that's only if he knew.

"Lillian!" The voice snapped, the echoing causing me to jump. I sat there, no longer crying, letting the numbness take me over now. I was staring at the floor between him and I. "Do you love me?"

I paced over to him, reaching both hands up to cup his blank face. "Of course I do." I muttered out.

He pulled my hands down and looked at me with dead cold eyes. "Then why did you cheat on me?" He blurted, and I was immediately confused.

What? Cheated on him? How? When? With who? I would never. I've been loyal and honest with him since the start. How could he possibly assume that? I've hardly even glanced at a guy since we started dating. If anyone's been cheating, it's him. And he has in the past before so I wouldn't be surprised if he's done it again.

"Answer me!" He shoved me, hard, so I stumbled back to hit the wall behind me. "I saw you messaging that Payton guy again. I thought I told you to cut him off."

My lips parted as I didn't know what to say. "Babe, why would you think that? Payton's just a friend. And I only messaged him because--"

He stopped me and barked, "Don't you lie to me!" He was now marching forwards and placed another mean cold hand on my face.

I wake up sweat drenched and panting hard. My room is dark, the curtains drawn. But not even the sunlight is shining through. I glanced over at the clock and see it's only quarter to six in the morning. I sit up, trying to control my breathing and settle my heart. I ran a hand over my cheeks to find them wet with tears. I try to clear my head from the traumatizing nightmare, but it's vivid images remain.