"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?"
Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and sh...
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The cool air hits us like a wall when we enter the house through the back door, sending chill bumps over my skin in an instant and relieving the warm flush from my cheeks. Using his foot, Harry kicks the door closed with a click, continuing to carry me bridal style through the kitchen and up the stairs.
"Where's your bathroom?" He asks when we reach the top, voice totally still despite just carrying me up a flight of stairs. At first I think his question to be stupid, but then the realization dawns on me that he's never actually been anywhere in my house besides downstairs.
"End of the hall to the left," I wince slightly as another shooting pain engulfs my hand in its clutches. Eyebrows furrowing intensely and mouth pressing into a more determined line, Harry picks up his pace.
We reach the white door at the end of the hall in what feels like no time due to Harry's speed, and he bends down slightly to use his elbow to twist the handle, eventually pushing the door open with his shoulder once the lock releases.
My anxious eyes, golden irises swirling with darkness from the pain, watch as Harry's own eyes explore the all white bathroom in desperate search of a place to put me down. Settling on the counter, he rushes over before gently releasing me, white marble cold against my bare thighs.
Chills race down my body, skin reacting to the air as if ice water is running down it when in reality it's just the air conditioning mixing with the slight shock of everything that just happened. My bottom lip becomes a playpen for my teeth as a replacement for my need to twist the ring that adorns my pinky until the skin grows raw, but since one hand is currently incapacitated, chewing on my lip until it bleeds will just have to do.
As Harry runs rampant through the master bathroom, opening cabinets and searching every drawer for anything he can use to ease my pain, I crane my neck to look out the window to my left, thankfully finding no signs of Bennett or his friends, only dust in the air from when they must have peeled out in their overly expensive cars.
"Is it broken?" Harry suddenly asks, face stone hard as he pushes himself between my knees and sets down the first aid kit he's spent the last minute looking for. He takes my balled up fist in his large hands a little too forcefully, causing me to suck in a breath to which he immediately softens his touch, eyes flitting between my face and injured knuckles.
"I don't know, Harry. Do I look like a doctor to you?" I quip, eyes baring into the top of his head while he continues to hunch over and stare down at the purple bruises. A shiver runs down my spine as the cold starts to become too much, but as quickly as the chills came, they evaporate upon the heat of Harry's peeved gaze training into the deepest depths of my soul.
"Could you try not being so sarcastic for once in your life, and just answer my damn question?" He exasperates, clearly irritated with the entire situation, but his touch remains caring unlike his gaze and tone of voice which have switched up faster than my thirteen year old self choosing between Edward and Jacob when New Moon came out.
