safe - h.s (EDITING)

forty-one

Once again TW

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Lana's POV

I was meant to fly out and see my parents for thanksgiving today. I was meant to act like a big happy family with them and pretend to actually like them. Instead, I am laying in Harry's bed like I have been for the past week.

I have barely said anything to anyone this past week. The only talking that's been happening is in my head. Harry's worried. I can tell. So is Willow. I'm sure Niall and Louis are probably concerned about my health, or lack thereof.

It was around 5 pm and I had just woken up. I can't sleep during the night. It's always been a bad habit of mine to stay up all night and sleep through the day but it has gotten worse recently. I have been falling asleep at 10 am and waking up at around 5 or 6 pm.

I haven't eaten anything for a week. I've only drank water and I've even thrown up a few times. I don't know why the break-in caused my health so much harm, it wasn't even that bad. Harry only got shot in the stomach and neither Willow or I were hurt yet somehow, I was doing horrible.

The funny thing is, this isn't the worst I've ever been. In fact, I've been much worse than this but neither Harry or Willow have seen me like this before and I'm sure it scared them a little. I would be fine in another week or so, this is just how I process things. It was unhealthy, that was very clear, but I didn't know how else to cope with shit like this.

I decided to get up for once and just as I did, Harry entered the room. I didn't acknowledge him as I walked to the bathroom but I saw a scared and panicked look on his face. I knew what he was thinking but I wasn't going to the bathroom for that. I simply needed to pee.

I walked in, not even bothering to close the door so Harry wouldn't freak the fuck out. I quickly pulled my pants down and sat on the toilet, peeing like a regular human being. Harry let out a relieved sigh and if I wasn't in the state I was right now, I would've rolled my eyes.

I quickly finished my business before walking back into the bedroom. Harry was seat at the end of the bed and I didn't mean to be rude, but I ended up walking past him. That is until he grabbed my wrist and I quickly pulled it away, wincing far too loudly in pain.

Harry seemed really confused before his face fell and I knew I was fucked. I had been wearing one of his hoodies the past week to cover up and he didn't think anything of it, thank god. Now I was in deep shit.

"Angel," he stated and I didn't even look up at him as I held my wrist.

"Let me see your wrist," he said, half demanding, half soft and caring. I stood there, not moving a muscle.

"Lana I swear to fucking god please don't tell me you hurt yourself and I just grabbed your wrist too tight," he said and my heart clenched at the fact he used my name. His tone was halfway between gentle and aggravated.

"Lana show me your wrist," he demanded and I let out a sad sigh before dropping my wrist from my other hand and pulling the sleeve up. I threw my arm forward with my eyes closed and I heard him audibly gasp.

There sat multiple wounds on my wrist that I had been trying to hide the past week. Some of them were red from where Harry grabbed my wrist since they were still sensitive and hurt quite a lot when touched. Harry sat there, staring at my wrist not saying a word. I hated it. I hated it when he was silent. I couldn't see his face and I knew he would start flipping out just like my father did.

I pulled my arm back and covered it with the sleeve again before I spoke.

"Please don't be mad at me. Please don't get angry an-and don't yell at me. Please don't hurt me I promise I won't do it again. I p-promise I won't just please don't hurt m-me," I ramble as I dropped to the floor, covering the top of my head with my forearms like I always did.

I mumbled a bunch of words that didn't make sense as my automatic reaction kicked in. I always did this when my father went silent before yelling at me. He always fell silent, let his anger bubble a bit before exploding. He would yell at me and hit me. It was a regular occurrence and my reaction was always the same. Drop to the floor, pull my knees to my chest and place my forearms over my head. It was the safest position to be in when being hit, trust me I'd know.

Most of the time he would yell at me for being a fuck up and hurting myself. He said I deserved to have multiple mental illnesses when I couldn't do anything right. Keep in mind, this happened almost every week. It wasn't just a one-time thing.

Seconds later I felt arms wrap around me and I was beyond confused. Why wasn't he yelling? Why wasn't he hurting me? Why wasn't he mad or upset? 

What the fuck?

"Whoa hey baby I would never hurt you, what are you talking about?" Harry says softly and I whimper at the sound of his gentle tone. Why isn't he hurting me physically or emotionally?

"Hey I would never hurt you. It won't matter if I'm the maddest or most upset I've ever been, I will never ever hit you," he tries to convince me but I don't quite buy it yet. My father said the same thing, then he hit me again. And again. And yet again.

"B-but my dad he h-"

"Angel I'm not your dad and I won't ever be like him please understand that. I don't hit women ever and that includes your pretty face," he tells me and I know I should trust him, but part of me still has doubt. Many guys say they won't hit a woman then proceed to slap them or even punch them when they get angry.

"Baby look at me please," Harry whispers gently and I hesitate for a few seconds before slowly lifting my head out from my arms. I look to my left where Harry is sitting on the ground next to me, a pained expression on his face.

"I promise you I won't hit you or physically hurt you. Ever," he says sternly and my eyebrows.

"Y-you don't make promises," I say quietly and he shakes his head.

"I know but this is different. You're different," he says gently and I didn't know whether to cry or smother him with love. So, I did both. As tears fell from my eyes I pressed my lips against his, pilling as much passion and care I could into the kiss.

It took me a moment to realize that I hadn't kissed Harry all this week and I missed it so much. I missed the feeling of his lips on mine and the jolt of excitement that coursed through me every single time. It didn't last for too long since my body's reaction was to pull away but I still stayed close to him as he squeezed my shoulder gently, silently telling me it would be okay.

I know I wasn't in the best mental state right now but it wasn't the worst and I was happy about that. I didn't want to die perse, I just didn't care all that much if I did. I've always been like that though. I never cared much if I died tomorrow or in the next couple of years. I honestly didn't think I'd make it past 16 so I'm surprised I'm still here.

What I did know, was that I was utterly, crazily, desperately, 100% head over heels for Harry and I couldn't stop or slow down as I fell harder for him. I can't say I'm fully in love with him but I can say is that if I don't stop, I will be very soon.

And in all honesty, part of me didn't want to stop no matter how bad it will hurt me.

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well shit... what the hell we gone do now?

this was kind of a little filler chapter for your lovely minds but i felt it was kinda necessary in order for me to continue the story.

have a wonderful day/night angels!

*light bum pats*