𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 ↣ 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉

fourty-six - end of the day

[things change and people leave.
focus on the people who stay
learn to love the good things
you have left.]

_________________________________

Later that night, the boys and I (minus Harry)  were watching a movie, practically on top of each other on the couch. After coming so close to losing one another, personal space didn't feel like a necessity.

Harry still hadn't come home.

I was about to call him when the kitchen door attached to the garage opened and closed. It was him, it had to be him. The boys and I shared a look.

"I'll go," I said. I climbed off of Liam and Zayn's laps awkwardly and walked into the kitchen. I heard Harry before I saw him, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard. "Hey," I said.

"Hey," he said. He sat the cup down on the counter and turned around to face me.

As soon as I saw him, I knew. His expression, his posture- the smell was coming out of his pores at that point.

"You're really drunk, H. Let's get you upstairs," I said softly. I reached out to grab onto him but he pulled away from me.

"Don't," he said sharply.

"Don't... what?"

"Don't help me. I don't want your help!"

"I can go get one of the boys-"

"No," Harry said. "Don't you think you've done enough?"

"You're really drunk, I'm gonna go get-" he cut me off by taking an angry step towards me. I took a fearful one back. He backed me against the wall and put his hands on either side of my head, effectively trapping me. "Haz, you're scaring me, please move," I whispered.

"It was your fault," Harry said. He leaned down and put his face right in front of mine. My heart climbed into my throat as I watched him with wide, fearful eyes. "Did you hear me?" I pushed myself further into the wall, further from him.

Harry slammed his palm against the drywall, directly next to my head. I flinched, because suddenly flinching was all I knew how to do again. "It was your fucking fault!" he yelled.

"What the hell?" Liam shouted, rushing to us. He pulled Harry off of me.

Harry's hand hit the wall. But he would have rather hit me.

I knew that.

I had been hit by enough drunk men in my life. I had seen what they looked like before they hit me.

Harry put that kind of fear into me in that moment. And I really had to think about that, because I didn't expect it from him.

I trusted him, and that made it different. No one that had ever hurt me had ever earned my trust before.

"What's your fucking problem, mate?" Louis yelled, moving himself between Harry and I.

It was a lot going on all at once.

I stayed there, with my back against the wall, barely breathing. Zayn bent down so he was eye level with me, but I looked past him to keep my eyes on Harry, scared. He was sobbing into Niall's shoulder.

"Come on, princess," Zayn said. He grabbed my hands and pulled me into the living room. "Did he hit you?" he asked. He tipped my chin up, and back and fourth, to check my face for marks. He looked into my eyes, waiting for me to confirm with him. I shook my head no and Zayn sighed in relief, dropping my chin.